Sue's Sports Starter by Sue_Thearle

Well with a ding and a dong and a not particularly merrily on high, I want to usher in the festive season with a slight moan. Oh yes. Deck the halls with boughs of holly.....err no.. First off I have a hideous cold which has left me looking like a panda. Sweetie and Sunshine at Edinburgh Zoo have nothing on me. Puffy eyes, wet nose, it’s all there in its spectacular glory - in fact here's a picture of me lying on a branch. I have felt so poorly, I even had to take a day off work, which it must be said, is not like me. And in the midst of my cold, or shall we now refer to it as a chill, a la Emily Bronte, the bathroom renovations have finally concluded, with slightly mixed results.

The guys have done a brilliant job, but the legacy of ancient plumbing and pipe work in our house means that currently we can only turn on our new power shower, by first turning on the tap in the sink. No really. Apparently it’s something to do with low pressure and a rubbish water pump and old pipes (no jokes please). If I could actually weep tears out of my swollen eyes, I would. I must confess the prospect of sprinting from the sink to the shower to turn it on, then back to the sink to turn that off, then back into the shower, might be good from a health and fitness point of view. But from an aspirational lifestyle perspective, it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Added to that of course is the maelstrom that is Christmas. I have been Christmas shopping approximately 475 times now since mid-November, and still I am not done. I keep making lists, losing them, forgetting them, making them again, taking them, shopping with them and then remembering stuff that I forgot to put on the list about 5 minutes after I get home. And let’s not even start with the prospect of actually wrapping stuff up. In fact the children only sent off their letters to Father Christmas yesterday. I do hope (she says with fingers firmly crossed), that those letters make it to the North Pole in time. How I laughed (bitterly) as I watched their original list, compiled so lovingly from the Argos Catalogue 3 weeks ago, metamorphose magically in front of my very eyes when they actually wrote their letters. As a result, all the things that Father Christmas might have been ‘making’, might not now actually be on their letter. Stifles another sob.

The party season is also in full swing, although if I get offered one more mince pie, I may actually scream. I am also feeling the same way about nibbles. Crisps are not a huge favourite of mine at the best of times, but I am at overload currently. In fact I am almost craving vegetables....... mind you, I did say almost. Incidentally I have just sneezed all over my computer, but pluckily I am ploughing on. And all of that against a backdrop of no exercise for the last 10 days. None. Not a thing. How utterly appalling. Mind you having said all of this, and having moaned unforgivably for the last 500 words, Roy Wood and Wizzard's I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day came on the radio this morning. (Didn't they have great hair by the way). The kids love that song and we all sang along joyously. It even brought a tear to this old cynical eye. Not that it could actually exit my puffy eye and roll down my cheek of course, but still, the thought was there.