I love January. I tried to explain my love of January to my 10 year old son.
‘January is fast becoming my favourite month. It’s bleak grey light, the complete lack of socials, no alcohol, rich foods or glittery eye shadow. No need to leave the house other than for work, school, garden labour and jogging. Bed at 9pm. It’s great.’
He shook his head with an unfathomable look that dissipated quickly into the charming ‘my mother is doolally’ smile. Of course he doesn’t understand yet. But he will. When he is over 40 and sick to the stomach of a month of high living, high fiving and high heels (maybe not the last one). These days I almost find myself pushing December to the limit so I can doubly enjoy the old clothes and porridge month to come.
It is also the quietest month for the B&B. The local town closes down. Hastily scribbled signs hung up in doors saying ‘Back in Feb. Thank you for your Christmas custom. We now have enough cash to pop off to the Turks and Caicos for the entire month. We sure deserve it after slaving through summer while you all lounged on the beach’. No chance of a drink or dinner even if you wanted to and weren’t on detox. And I do my best to dissuade accommodation enquiries after the Frozen Pipe Incident of 2010. It was a particularly snowy January but the memory of ferrying buckets of water around is still raw. And this was before we had paying guests. Besides we now have a couple of vats of Seville orange marmalade to make up for the B&B breakfast table to take us through the year ahead. That will be this weekend’s entertainment. Possibly with a boxed set of something we have been meaning to catch up on – like the first series of Mad Men. Seriously.
So let’s wallow in soup and slippers. No lamenting of tucked away decorations and ends of stollen. Embrace the new year and the resolutions that won’t last beyond the second weekend.
BACK IN FEB…