Christmas party pratfalls

We had our work Christmas party on Tuesday night.

It was, genuinely, a lot of fun. I have the bruises to show for it.

FEAST

Oh the joys of an English winter. First the collective germ-sharing that is public transport dishes up a London-wide epidemic of stomach viruses and "vomiting bugs" (oh delightful) and then, when the immune system is down and out, along comes snot & co. to really amp up the already considerable gross factor.

All of which is a very whiny, long-winded way of saying, I'm currently at home with a box of tissues and a nose that's running at Olympic speed. The stomach bug has gone now thankfully but I wasn't much up for eating last weekend, which was totally inconvenient given we went not to a feast but The Feast on Sunday.

Carols at St Martin-in-the-Fields

The weekend festival of festivities continues today. Still wilfully ignoring my stomach bug, not least because this afternoon we're off to Feast, a pop up Christmas banquet in an old disused building in Islington where food will clearly be unavoidable... The terrible teenage girl in me would see this set of circumstances as a fortuitous silver lining but I'm an adult and so I'm pretending otherwise. Actually, the down-to-my-last-10-pounds-before-payday adult that I really am sees it as a shocking waste of money.

But enough with the slightly impolite discussion about stomach bugs and what happens when you feed them...

Christmas markets and frozen toes

Anyone who knows me knows I love a good market - flea market, antique market, food market, craft market - I love them all. Mostly because they encourage my unadulterated love of treasure hunting, or "looking for tat" as my lovely husband calls it.

The chance then to re-visit my old (and still favourite) neighbourhood on Wednesday night AND to pay a visit to the Columbia Rd Christmas markets while I was there was too good an opportunity to pass up...

Bits and Bob Bob Ricards

In between the day trips and the mini-breaks and the cocktails and the list-writing I've had a number of small but delightful moments of observation and aesthetic appreciation lately. My Peckham punk granny with her Batman-esque eye shadow delicately devouring her sandwich above being just one of them...

Knit one Purl two

I love a good cocktail. Throw in quirky or beguiling environs, brilliant company and a small gas burner for distilling your drink and you have, by my count, a winning evening.

A visit to Hampton Court Palace

My love of lists is rather well documented. And the only thing I like more than writing lists is ticking things off them. In fact I so love crossing things off my lists that I have been known in my time to write things onto said list that I’ve already done, just so I can get my ticking and crossing off to a promising start. Though to be fair, this premature behaviour usually only happens on lists of Boring Life Admin, or worse, Depressing, Overdue Work and/or School Activities.

What was my point?

Playing the long game

Normally about this time of year - when you realise after four consecutive days of grey that the sun is now permanently gone until next April, I start to countdown to Christmas. And by Christmas I mean home.

Except this year, well, we're not going to home. A virgin London Christmas is upon us. If I think about what we'll be missing - bellinis by the pool, morning swims at Bilgola Beach, time with family - well I cry a little bit. So I'm playing the long game. And that means A List of Things I'm Excited About...

Christmas Carols at St Martin-in-the-Fields. 
I first did this 13 years ago with my dear friend Kirsten, a bittersweet end to our gap year in Brighton. This year it will be with my husband and Tor and Andy. And mulled wine.