277 days….

Another day at school:  the boys were OK again.  They are a tough crowd.

Mum picked the kids up from school today as I have decided to face the work Christmas party.

I don’t want to go, but my well-meaning friend Mishi has bullied me into going.

Rightly so, because even I can recognise the fact that I’m turning into a hermit: I often don’t answer the phone; I don’t phone anyone if I can help it; I don’t travel far from home; most of my social life is online….

But I’m making myself go and driving myself there.  Maybe to prove a point, maybe because part of me wants to go.  I don’t know.

and I can come home early if I drive myself.

I’m not looking forward to dressing up … I feel fat and frumpy and I really can’t be bothered finding anything decent to wear – my entire wardrobe is jeans and t-shirts.

and it’s humid so my hair is frizzy despite the fact that I dried it with the hair-dryer this morning.


There was one positive this afternoon   – J picked up the portrait we had done a few weeks ago and It. Is. Gorgeous.

I have resolved to go and see all the proofs and will probably spend an inordinately large amount of money on photos this year.

Because photos are important.

Really important.

Especially when you know that you can never get another photo of your loved one (ie -YOU)  NOT doing something insane or pulling a face at the camera or in a group of other people.


I’m off to “make an effort” for the party.

Knowing me, I’ll probably have a good time once I get there.

Except Christmas work Christmas  parties were something we always suffered through together.

I miss you.

I love you.