2012 a late start

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Christmas 2011 was a good Christmas, not the best , but good. As I get older there is more obligation around this time of year and as my family has extended to include my flatmate and ‘babber’ scheduling was getting a little tough. In the end I spent christmas day in Bristol with flatmate and squeal monkey then headed home via my brother’s car to the family christmas gathering on boxing day. All boxes ticked :)

One criticism for Christmas 2011 was our lack of snow (in Bristol anyways). Jack Frost made a very brief visit before the big day but Christmas weather was rainy and drab, a sight nay seen on Christmas cards.

Seeing my family back home was lovely but seeing the village I grew up in so different, well its hard not to feel saddened by the greedy progressive expansion. As a youth I wished the vilage was bigger and more interesting, now I question the arrival of 1000 new houses on what was a comfortably sized village’s doorstep.

I don’t like watching the quaint nooks and crannies of this country get washed over with a swathe of characterless dwellings all ‘purpose built’ and plasterboard. I don’t mind new development in a city but I don’t want everywhere else to follow suit. My village will eventually link up with the surroundings areas to become a giant megalithic city, a property developers wet dream and a nations shame.

Its just change as I get old and realising things don’t last isn’t it?

The house where I grew up, where I had spent all those years going through so many changes. The toddler hiding behind the sofa in my jim jams while the adults watched TV me able to plot my military operations, spinning around on my knee really quick without slamming into things. Watching the a-team to red dwarf on less than 5 channels, learning to play the piano up to 5 grades and years of cub scouts. Turning my back on both and becoming direction-less, small amounts of weed while sipping tinnies to acid trips, ecstacy and snorting lines of speed off a moving record. Listening to 7″ and borrowed TDK-90, Working in factories to offices seeing my brothers grow up and my parents get old.

To remember it all would take way to long and so much has been forgotten. So many people and experiences, so much culture. All those experiences whether good or bad all feel precious to me now. Each of these beautiful memories happened while I lived in my parents 1970s purpose built semi-detached house (with adjoining garage). The house with a steep drive that’s a nightmare in the snow, the house that was always white……is now a pink blancmange colour.

I weep.

Back in Bristol away from odd coloured exterior walls and I had around a week off work still. I spent it leisurely and lazily, mainly watching TV and eating trash.

New years eve saw me crammed into a mate’s house consuming guinness and any other cans that had strayed from the pack while catching up with old faces. A nice time with no ticket requirement.

Sleep pattern well and truly jolted and an exercise shy routine meant I went through the usual detox and restlessness , 4am would start to creep into my waking day and correcting this was going to be tough.

But I knew I had till the 5th of January when sweet sweet work would dent my relaxed demeanour. This had been confirmed by the project manager on the last day of work , in the last minute of the last hour.

The night before work (that would be the 4th jan) was spent sleeping in chunks , waking every couple hours with the remnants of the nightmares I had just summoned from my own mind still lingering in my sleep thoughts. Not the best nights sleep but atleast it was still some slumber of sorts.

First day back at work and I walked the knee buckling hill to the office. Outside our building I met a colleague at the main door while he fiddled his keys in the lock. We said hi , asked about each others holidays that sort of thing, then he said:

‘ Oh yeah you were supposed to be in yesterday’

‘what!?’

Start of 2012.


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