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Today was really just about buying bits and pieces that were not on lists. A family board game to play, stocking fillers, and so on. I had planned on going out yesterday, but forgot all about the War Horse trip.

Going shopping on Christmas Eve was always going to be entertaining for the wrong reasons. It started with an old lady telling us we were standing in the way of her seeing the bus coming at the bus stop this morning. You know – the same bus everybody was waiting for. I was somewhat taken aback, but laughed into my sleeve a little later in the day when I spotted her at the back of the queue to get on the bus home – no doubt chewing wasps about all the younger people who were not getting out of her way to let her on the bus first.

The shops were rammed with people doing last minute shopping. For the first time in years I didn’t see any children being dragged along the floor, or being threatened by exasperated parents. Everybody seemed calm. Even the teenage girl waiting for the bus, who exclaimed to her friends “my face looks too big, right?”. I don’t know how I didn’t laugh out loud. Our eldest daughter nearly spat fizzy drink everywhere.

Anyway. It is done. We got home in one piece. From this point out, Christmas is mostly downhill – time to relax into it, have a drink, and try to switch off. If I vanish off the internet for the next couple of days, I’ll probably be watching terrible movies with the children, or trying to understand the rules of various board games.

Merry Christmas to you and yours – wherever you may be. With a little luck I’ll catch up with you at some point over the next few days.

This afternoon we went on our annual “surprise” family Christmas outing, and managed to keep a lid on it right up until the moment we arrived at the theatre entrance in George Street, Oxford. I beckoned our youngest into the road to stand alongside me and look up at the huge poster adorning the side of the building. Her whisper and excitement was heard by everybody nearby, and brought everybody to a standstill -

“WAR HORSE!”

It’s probably worth noting that I have not read the book, seen the movie, or anything of the stage play either. The children had seen it on the stage in London, and at the cinema. They could have warned me I would need tissues. Granted, I’m often the softest grown-up in the place, but oh my word…

Quite apart from me falling to pieces more than once, I have to mention – as everybody else has – about the genius of the puppeteers that bring the horses to life. To begin with it was pure wonder, but as the play went on I completely accepted them as horses on the stage. Another shout out has to go to the cast – particularly the narrator, or “Song Man”, played by a famous folk musician called Bob Fox.

If you’ve not seen the stage version, perhaps this video might help explain just how good it is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FS51Ut9cnXA

If you ever get the chance to see it on-stage, take it.

At 3pm this afternoon I finished for Christmas. I go back on the 4th January. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet – it won’t until we get Christmas morning out of the way. Until then, everything looks like a huge struggle – getting the house tidy, the washing done, presents wrapped, and so on.

Our last grocery shop before Christmas arrived this evening. Although partly wrong, the majority of it was delivered correctly – and included the biggest drink order we have ever done. We’re not going anywhere this Christmas, so I suggested that a box of wine might be a good idea – a present to ourselves, you might say. I guess the funny thing about the wine is that I’ve felt awful all day, so I’m sitting here drinking tea with sugar in it. Go figure.

We have beer, cider, wine, spirits, fizzy drinks, chocolates, and snacks galore hidden around the kitchen – and it’s all off limits until at least Christmas Eve.

I think the TV magazines kick in tomorrow morning – I may spend some time tonight flicking through them to see what’s on – although the world has changed so much since I was young. In my teenage years the arrival of the Christmas TV magazines was ahuge deal – to find out what movies were on which days, and planning ahead to either record or watch them. The internet has changed everything. I suspect there is still value to be had in sitting down with the children to watch old movies though – the same stories that thrilled me as a child will still thrill them (I hope).

I hope my other half likes the present I bought her.

I have never taken part in any of the viral blogging awards before, but when I checked my e-mail first thing this morning (isn’t that what all people do as soon as they wake up?), I saw the notification from Melanie and thought “maybe it’s about time”. She writes a fantastic blog, so it feels more like an honor to be nominated, rather than if some marketing moron was trying to build yet another version of a pyramid traffic scheme.

I discovered Melanie’s blog “The Story Addict” some time ago, while searching for interesting blogs to read. She writes about anything and everything, and does so wonderfully. In among the posts about daily life, she also writes fiction, and against expectations I got sucked into reading – she’s one of very few people posting fiction that I’ve ever followed. ### What is the “Mystery Blogger Award” ?

It’s an award for amazing bloggers with ingenious posts. Their blog not only captivates; it inspires and motivates. They are one of the best out there, and they deserve every recognition they get. This award is also for bloggers who find fun and inspiration in blogging, and they do it with so much love and passion. It appears to have been started by Okoto Enigma – I’m not entirely sure how long it’s been running for, and am not about to spend the afternoon digging through back-links to trace it’s route (although that does sound like a fantastic diversion for a quiet afternoon).

If I nominate you, you can take part too – and there are a number of simple rules to abide by: ### Rules

  • Put the award logo/image on your blog.
  • List the rules.
  • Thank whoever nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  • Mention the creator of the award and provide a link as well.
  • Tell your readers 3 things about yourself.
  • You have to nominate 1020 people.
  • Notify your nominees by commenting on their blog.
  • Ask your nominees any 5 questions of your choice; with one weird or funny question (specify).
  • Share a link to your best post(s).

Questions Asked of Me

  1. If you could pick any name to have other than your own, what would it be? Good question. I’m already known by several versions of my name – Jon, Jonathan, and even Joe. I might shorten my name to just “Jon”, purely to avoid everybody spelling “Jonathan” a variety of incorrect ways.
  2. What are you most looking forward to in 2018? The release of the movie “Ready Player One”. I read the book several years ago, and it remains one of my favourite books. Stephen Spielberg is at the helm of the movie, so fingers crossed!
  3. If you could have any superpower, what would it be? Being able to grant wishes would be a pretty amazing superpower, wouldn’t it ?
  4. What post that you’ve written are you most proud of? I don’t think it’s a single post – it’s probably the entire canon of posts I have written online since the early 2000s. I’m one of the few bloggers I knew “back in the day” that have kept at it. Perhaps that means I’m the biggest idiot too?
  5. Who would play you in a movie? Oh this is difficult. Perhaps Dan Stephens, or Kris Marshall.

My Nominees (in no particular order)

  1. Bedlam and Daisies
  2. Ginger Effect
  3. Back in Stilettos Again
  4. Dater Analysis
  5. Rachel
  6. The Mingling Momma
  7. Just Jen
  8. Almost Drank the Cool Aid
  9. Brian’s Brexit Chronicle
  10. Boldly Going Forward

Questions for my Nominees

  1. What are you most critical of yourself about ?
  2. If you the lottery, what is the first thing you would do ?
  3. What do you remember about your first day at school ?
  4. Who are the friends you can count on – and how do you know them ?
  5. What was the first music single you remember buying ?

I just got home from the cinema. I’m happy, sad, excited, weary, elated, and torn – all at the same time. So many emotions.

I grew up with the Star Wars movies – something about them taps into the eight year old me, leaving the cinema in the dark, holding my Dad’s hand, wanting to run down the street making light-saber noises.

For a couple of hours every few years my life isn’t about expectation, obligation, chores, parenting, responsibility, and all those other things – it’s about a galaxy far, far away.

In spring this year I was assigned to a project that involved travelling to Frankfurt in Germany to spend several days on a client site doing “proof of concept” work. I had never been to Germany before, didn’t speak a word of the language (outside of comedy phrases learned from TV shows), and certainly couldn’t read or write any German what-so-ever. I also hadn’t been through an airport, or flown on an aircraft in years.

I wrote at the time about my various adventures – everything was new, and rather strange. Visiting the supermarket became an adventure. Finding places to eat became a trial by fire. Walking the city streets, camera in hand, because an escape.

I discovered that the Germany people are polite, funny, warm, and charming. I also discovered that Frankfurt is much quieter than London, and much cleaner. Having only really known the mayhem of London, being able to sit down on a rush-hour train was something of a novelty.

Throughout the year I visited three times – staying in hotels twice, and in a hostel perhaps a mile from the city center. While the hostel was more basic, it’s location also forced me to explore a little more – I discovered Turkish and Chinese restaurants, and all manner of small supermarkets built to service the non-existent army of office workers.

Perhaps the most inexplicable puzzle was the lack of coffee shops. While travelling around England with work I invariably arrive on-site an hour early, and sit in a coffee shop gathering my thoughts. They don’t seem to exist in Germany. One morning I took it upon myself to find the legendary Starbucks in central Frankfurt (well – legendary to me), and sat almost alone with a cappuccino at 8 in the morning.

Anyway.

It turns out the people I worked with while visiting Germany thought I did quite a good job. A conference call yesterday morning served as the first step towards many more visits. After visiting for three days, another three days, and another three days over the least year, an order arrived this week for over a hundred days throughout next year. My chin probably hit the desk with an audible clunk.

I suppose it’s time to learn a few more words of the language. Time to find a few more places to eat. Time to make a few friends in the city perhaps. How do you even go about making friends in a place you only visit for a few days now and again?

It’s funny though – actually spending time in a place. You see the photo of the central railway station accompanying this post? What the photo doesn’t tell you is the experience on the ground. To the right of the entrance, somebody painted the car parking spaces across the kerb-stones of the pavement. Drunks hang out around that area. The low buildings on either side of the central arch cover the passenger food and drink halls – filled with coffee shops, and various food outlets. Down in the far corner of the station there is a McDonalds – I laughed when I saw it. Directly across the road from the station entrance there is a small Starbucks, usually filled with international travellers. The train platforms within the station are huge – stretching on for the better part of half a mile. I’m guessing the trains that travel out across mainland Europe would be long though, right ? The entire place is pristine – clean – organised – far removed from the bustling stations I’m used to in London.

Maybe in the new year I should concentrate on the small things, rather than the big things. I see so many blog posts about “how to live your life”, and very few about “this thing I noticed on my travels – isn’t it interesting”. I know which I would rather be remembered for.

Final conference call done. Final expense claim filed. It feels like I’m lifting rocks from an imaginary back-pack and casting them aside, one at a time. I have little or nothing left to do – after months of craziness, it feels strange. Two and a half days to go. I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to sit around in the office and successfully “look busy”.

Two of the children have already finished school – they finished yesterday evening, as did my other half. Miss 17 finishes today. When I got in from work last night, downstairs was littered with boxes of Christmas decorations, and a Christmas Tree had magically appeared in the lounge (the one from the infant school where my other half works).

I wonder how many infant school children would be horrified to discover that the moment they leave the building on the last day of school, the staff rip down everything to do with Christmas, and prepare the classrooms for the first day back in the new year?

We also have the infant school chicken to look after through the holidays. She’s a big black farmyard hen called “Jewel”, and seems very friendly. I let her out this morning. We had chickens years ago, so still had an “ark” at the end of the garden – apart from needing a little maintenance it’s fine, so guess who will inevitably find himself at a local farm in the new year, buying chickens again? There is already talk of converting the trampoline frame into a chicken run.

We have a brilliant photo somewhere of our youngest daughter – aged about four – standing in the garden with a pink glittery cowboy hat on, bright red wellington boots, daisy duke shorts, with a long suffering chicken under her arm.

This Christmas feels strange. I’ve only really bought a present for my other half – she organised all the presents for the children, and has warned me off buying any last minute things, because “they have enough already”. At this point the only avenue left is Amazon anyway, so I would have to order something this afternoon if I was going to.

What do you get for teenage girls for Christmas though? A card for Starbucks with infinite credit? An all-expenses-paid visit to Build-a-Bear? A board game about how stupid teenage boys are?

Apart from a conference call that will determine much of the year ahead for me, I have little to do this week at work. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to fill my days with, other than hiding in the office to avoid setting foot in the house and having to deal with everybody else trashing every room, every day.

I suppose the good news this week was the receipt of an unexpected Christmas bonus. For a few minutes I imagined buying the children something nice for Christmas each, and floated the idea with my other half. That got shot down in seconds. The cooker needs fixing, the kitchen lights need replacing, the kitchen wall needs re-plastering, and the bathroom floor needs replacing. There’s always something.

It’s funny in a way – although I’m looking forwards to Christmas, I know the entire holiday is just going to be a continual stream of people wanting something from me, or other people not having done things that I end up doing – and if I do those things, I’ll be shouted at for doing them.

Perhaps I’ll make up excuses to wander into town with my Kindle, and sit in Starbucks for hours, reading. Of course if I even tried that, somebody I know would walk in, and insist on making conversation. Shouting “F*CK OFF!” at an acquaintance as they walk into a coffee shop isn’t exactly the right thing to do, is it.

Given all the things going on in the world, it often feels ridiculous to complain about the situations we find ourselves in. We bottle up our stresses, our concerns, and our frustrations, bury them deep down, and keep moving forwards. We are encouraged to “keep calm, and carry on”.

We sometimes wonder how long we can keep doing it for. How long can we keep putting one foot in front of the other and disregarding the mountain of stress, obligation, and expectation we drag behind us?

I can’t even remember where most of my mountain came from, or how long it’s been there for. I sometimes wonder how one might go about cutting tethers to it all, but then wonder if “who I am” is tied up in the experiences, memories, and lessons learned along the way. Maybe it all has value. Maybe not.

Perhaps the empathy we feel for others is bound up in the stuff we drag behind us. Maybe the connections we make with others happen because we get caught up with each other somehow while trudging along our path, and curiosity does the rest ?

I don’t know. I don’t expect anybody else knows either. We’re all kind of making it up as we go along really. Some people rely on old books full of stories to dictate their behaviour, others rely on fear, and others don’t seem to have an instruction book at all. They blunder from one disaster to the next, while the rest of us pick the pieces up in their wake.

I don’t think I really have a point to this post. My writing has become a broken weather-vane of sorts – spinning in the wind, pointing this way and that. I’m sure somebody will come along and fix it soon.

The alarm clock was programmed for 6am this morning. I woke at 5:50am after a pretty spectacular dream about some sort of school reunion, and watched the last ten minutes tick away. I could have got up, but an irresistible force kept me from sliding out into the morning air. With moments left before it would explode in noise, I cancelled the alarm, and tiptoed downstairs – looking in on the children’s bedrooms en-route. They looked like they had collided with their beds at some velocity during the night.

After finding clothes, packing my bag, and wrapping myself in several layers, I wandered off into the early morning darkness towards the local railway station.

The journey was unremarkable. I managed to buy a ticket, the various trains connected, and I even found time at one of the major stations en-route to buy lunch, and something hot to eat for breakfast.

We’ll try to forget about me stressing throughout Sunday about going on-site again. I swear I get worse every time. I literally sucked the fun out of everybody elses Sunday while vanishing inside myself and getting on with chores. It’s done now though, and of course the day wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be.

I need to give myself a break.

Anyway. That’s it for work journeys until the new year. Just the rest of this week to get through. Oh – and you know that company in Germany that I’ve spend a few days visiting this year? They put an order in for over a hundred days. I better start learning some German.

p.s. I know my blog has been interminably boring, and terribly written recently. It feels like I’ve been “mailing it in” for a while now. Fingers crossed my mojo returns over the Christmas break, and I find it in me to fill pages with the utter jibberish you’re more accustomed to.