End of 2006

Things are not quite looking up. But it's not disastrous. In fact, the end of the year is looking more promising than some of our previous attempts at celebration. In 2002 we decided to go to the family pile in Northumberland. When we arrived there at 1o.30 pm on 31 December we discovered that neither Uncle Eff nor Aunty Dee had thought of getting in a celebration bottle. And Unwins was shut. By twenty-five past midnight we'd turned out the back of every cupboard and found one bottle of cheap wine that had soured, probably around 1973. So that wasn't a good year. The next one wasn't much better. In 2003 me and Dig hadn't spoken to each other since November in a relationship that resembled the reenactment of the Cold War. Then in 2004 Shark spent part of the winter in West Suffolk hospital unable to breathe without ventilation. And in 2005 I fell asleep on the sofa and missed it.

And now we're at the end of 2006. Things might get worse. Happy New Year.