Central–mofo'ing–heating yeah baby!
Ah home. Home, home, home, home, home. Land of tea and umbrellas. Of cadbury's and duvets. Of football hooligans and murderers armed with claw hammers – tho lets ignore that last part for now eh? Still I'm glad to be back and in the warm radiant embrace of my computer.
I felt that in absence of a keyboard I ought to attempt to keep a diary of my holiday, using only the primitive tools of my forefathers. You may know them as a notebook and pen. Unfortunately my lack of preparation left me armed only with a biro and a used envelope. Never one to be deterrred from a challenge I set upon my diary keeping with gusto. Here, word for word is the entry for the 20th.
Tuesday: early cold travel cold house cold can see breath. pyjamas size of boat sails no water no food no central heating. bleugh.
My punctuation leaves a little to be desired but space, you must understand was at a premium. The next day was mildly better.
Wednesday: yawned and could see breath. steam actually rose from my hands. set up tree and christmas lights went shopping entire house still frozen. almost fell asleep reading my notes hands went entirely blue. Forced to endure scrabble yet to brave a shower. finally have running hot water. had a cup of tea too. getting ill, feel all germy. slept fully clothed under two duvets and with a hot water bottle.
After that near-death experience with my developmental biology notes (leading, I believe to the resulting illness) I abandoned my work lest something worse should occur. Secondly I was running out of envelope and the biro in was freezing over. So I indulged in the full-time job of keeping warm until I discovered some paper and doodled away like a happy hermit. Some time among all this doodling Christmas happened. It strolled by in a rather nonchalent way and, not to be out-blazé-d by a mere day, I wished Jesus a happy birthday in an equally nonchalent manner. Then we each went merrily on our own separate ways. A few days later when I ran into Christmas again it was lying in the gutter, beaten and dirty, having been pimped out like a cheap whore. We had a long emotional chat over some expresso and pain-au-chocolats – but that's another story entirely.
Still, I'm distressed to have missed all the christmas television although on second thought "distressed" should maybe read "rather strangely overjoyed" instead. But managed to fit in the Goodies and the Marx brothers today which my parents insisted that I be educated in. Oh dear, what a dismal sounding holiday, I assure you it was a lot more enjoyable than it appears – I missed most of the boring bits whilst in a hypothermic coma anyway…
I leave you with my boxing day pixie doodle.
Or rather I would do if my scanner decided it liked me. :|
Bwahaha winnar! I restarted the hell out of that scanner, Scanner 1; Mia 7 woohoo :D