The Hallowe’en box is well and truly ticked, we’ve the sugar hangovers to prove it, which means we’re on a clear run now to Christmas … but all I really want to know is whose turn is it to host this year on the 25th?
• I SUPPOSE finding yourself sobbing quietly in a dark room over the fate of an animated crocodile doesn’t reflect all that well on me does it? That’s exactly what I found myself doing mid-way through the mid-term (always a tipping point). Given the monsoon-type weather, and exhausted from proclaiming things like ‘ah sure the skin is waterproof’ and ‘there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear,’ we gave up and headed to the cinema on a Wednesday lunchtime and it felt deliciously rebellious. If no one is going to miss you for a few hours, I’d recommend it if you can, as I would the film Lyle, Lyle Crocodile. I had lower-than-low expectations (having sat through what feels like endless Minion movies, my soul feels crushed), so having a major role played by none other than Javier Bardem was a most pleasant surprise. But dashing and all as he is, it was the croc who stole my heart. I think everyone could do with a Lyle in their life. Check it out.
• Anyway, now that Hallowe’en is out of the way we’re on a clear run to Christmas. Six weeks I think. to be precise. The question on everyone’s lips will now invariably be along the lines of ‘So, where are you going for The Christmas?’ The ‘The’ is important. I’d love it if my reply was someplace as glamorous as Aspen or St Barts but as it’s not, I’m practising my poker face, and am holding out for an invite to someone else’s gaff while trying to dodge playing host if I can at all. I’ll let you know how that goes.
• Now to be fair I’m a dream dinner guest at any time of the year, not to mind Christmas. I’m one of those freaks who can’t sit down until the pots are washed, or are at least soaking and I’ve put the first load on in the dishwasher. At that stage everyone else will be ready for dessert and as I’m usually on my feet I’ll get stuck into that, and put the kettle on for the teas and coffees. I won’t rest until the last of the dishes are put back in their rightful places and sure at that stage it’s generally time to go home. There’s never a fear I’ll overstay my welcome as I absolutely hate staying in people’s houses overnight. I find most people are way more interesting over candlelight than cornflakes, no matter how good the coffee is, so I always prefer to wake up in my own bed. In the same way, while I enjoy a lively soiree as much as the next, I am not a fan of overnight guests, and not just because it would involve an epic tidy-up of the spare room. By the time I’d have the good sheets and towels pulled out, I’d need a lie-down there myself. My great granny had a saying that if you’re invited for your lunch, you should never stay for your tea. Wise words indeed.
• What else is new? We’re doing ‘Sober November’ in our household. I know, it doesn’t have the same ring as ‘Sober October’, but I’m offering it up for the holy souls in any case. I’ll be honest, I’m not feeling any of the benefits of my abstinence yet, though, as I’ve mainly swapped the night cap for the nightly bag of jellies from the trick-or-treating mountain, and a few mini bars while I’m at it. Turns out sugar hangovers are the worst of all.
• Also, what in the world is going on with Madonna? The 64-year-old is looking totally freaky in her latest Instagram posts. I think she may have had one (or 10) procedures too many and is making the Kardashians look like they’re letting themselves go. I’m all for doing what you can to turn back time, especially after my six-year-old recently suggested I might get a safety pin to fold over the skin on my neck. Out of the mouth of babes and all the rest (no wonder I turn to jellies at night for comfort!). So it’s a yes to the Material Girl’s sculpted neck and jawline, but a no to her squinty cat eyes. For now.
• Despite saying I wasn’t going to subscribe to another streaming service, in a moment of weakness I relented and signed up to Disney Plus. Oh my god! I’m gorging on The Dropout, and can’t wait to get stuck into Dopesick, that still leaves The Crown on Netflix. There won’t be a thing done for Christmas at this rate, so I’ll definitely have to wangle myself an invite some place. Any takers? I’ll even bring my own Marigolds!
