I have all of the above as I prepare to leave on Monday. Finding somewhere to live in Truro, albeit temporarily, has helped to set my mind at rest a little, but Buddy the orange moggy being ill has undone most of that. He was repeatedly sick on Tuesday so we took him to the vet and now he is better but has started to sneeze a lot. I'm really scared he may have caught a virus whilst at the vets' surgery - not a good thing for an FIV+ cat. So far he seems ok, but with it being New Year weekend the vets' are shut, apart from the extremely expensive emergency one we took him to on Tuesday. Why do animals always seem to time these scares with such appalling accuracy?
I'm sure that Buddy will be fine and so will I once I arrive, shake off the jetlag and the aforementioned Evils, Dreads and Panics and start work. Just not enjoying this bit very much. Whilst counting down to leaving somewhere every little incident takes on enormous significance as you realise it could be a good few months before you are able to do/see/hear/touch that again. Tomorrow is New Year's Eve so I hope y'all have a good one as many of you experience it up to 21 hours earlier than we do. Hurry up and invent that time machine/matter transporter one of you, will you?
It's finally Christmas Eve here in the sloooooowwww timezone. It's A Wonderful Life and the burning log are on permanent loop on the television, the 8ft inflatable snowman is guarding the deck, I've had a mince pie, a slice of Christmas cake and several glasses of sherry. We have cheese from a newly discovered cheese emporium of great dairy
goodness - Wensleydale, Caerphilly, Cornish Yarg, Guinness Cheddar,
Stilton with cranberries, Saint Agur and Camembert. Who could ask for
anything more? (A little Roquefort and some goats cheese spring to mind,
but even Canadian fridges have a finite capacity.)
We are very lucky, and everything is very nice but unfortunately my impending departure is overshadowing everything, in terms of both pleasant anticipatory excitement and sheer panic and dread, to the extent that for the first time EVER I just don't feel Christmassy. It's never happened to me before and I am not impressed at all. So this is how all those dull, Scroogey people feel... well, they can stick it. Tomorrow, regardless of how we feel, Will will have his rubbish santa hat from the dollar store stapled firmly to his glowing pate, Buddy and Samson will wear tinsel collars (even if just for a second), the nut roast will be bursting with cranberries and walnuts, the pork roast will be bursting with - pork, I guess, (didn't fancy turkey this year, maybe that's what's been tripping me up) Carols from Kings and silly videos will be on the tv and fun will be had by all. By order. Or else. No Grinches here. The only thing that's allowed to be green here is the Sage Derby (unaccountably left that one off the earlier list o' cheese) and no fucker is stealing Christmas on my watch. Not even me.
So Happy Christmas, everyone. In the words of Allan, the world's greatest wedding minister, may your day be awesome.
I'm really not joking. Feeling much more like myself now I've got something for my brain to work on again, and am excited by the new job/Truro etc, but the thought of what I'm leaving behind (albeit temporarily - roll on Easter holiday) is heartbreaking.
Not feeling very festive at present and the weather is not co-operating - 12 degrees and drizzly today after a few weeks of lovely sparkly snow and frost. However, Will is now off work for Christmas so we're off to the taproom at Granville Island Brewery to see if a few flagons of their Lions Winter Ale or Merry Monks Doppelbock will bring some cheer. Yet another item to add to the 'things I'll really miss' list, but although Cornwall cannot supply a Billis or a Meezer, I believe they do at least brew a tolerable ale in those parts. § ¶Cornish Kate
Been a bit quiet recently, haven't I? Once again that has been due to much shenanigins in the living of life department, including a travel marathon to Cornwall and back. I'm in Vancouver for Christmas and then I'm off again, because after 18 months as a jobless mass (minus those awful 3 days in the summer) I am again gainfully employed. Just a shame it couldn't be in the same country as my husband... (more) § ¶If You Can't Say Something Good, Don't Say Anything At All
Not that I've ever really
subscribed to this, generally feeling that if you have bile building
inside you, it's probably best to let it out now and then, but my mood
recently has been so sour that I judged it better not to post anything
for fear of (a) melting the keyboard with toxic keystrokes (b) saying
things I might later regret and (c) causing friends and relatives from
3 continents to rush for details of Vancouver's psychiatric services under
"call us if you need a loved one committed".
The problem is that I am bored, terminally so, because I have no
job. I have tried to get one, believe me, but I am always either
overqualified or underexperienced which gets to be very wearing after a
while. The trouble is that I am perfectly qualified and
experienced to teach English at A level and I just can't do that
here. Radical solution required before all marbles are totally lost. Watch this space.