And Now… The Weekend

I was working today, and exhausted yesterday, but at last it’s the Easter Weekend and I have plans.

Tomorrow we have a special guest for our live stream for the DDC as it is Lady B’s birthday weekend. The stream is in support of Chrysalis, and I even have a plot lined up.

Then on Monday we’ll be catching up with the ex-Lady M and the Charleesi (plus boyfriend) for an open air catchup for the first time since before Christmas. I can’t wait, it feels like years rather than months since I’ve seen them.

So that’s the plan.

Sunday? Again?

Happy Easter everyone – I won’t get into the whole debate about origins or alternative names or anything like that, I’m just going with the name that the dominant culture knows it by and looking across the room at the small pile of chocolate eggs that we’ve either bought or had gifted by neighbours in our block of flats.

There’s a definite sense of inertia today, so Lady M and I have made a point of going for a walk around our estate to get some laps in on our step counts and look at something other than the proverbial four walls. As much as I love my flat (and I’m still getting used to calling it that), I do miss having the option of a garden. As we live on a private estate however there’s far less worry about traffic cutting through so a good half-hour or so amble has been a welcome change of scene.

Along the way we’ve seen some neighbours we know, and others we don’t but in each case there’s been pleasantries and checking in on each other as we swap stories and jokes. You could be forgiven for thinking it an average Sunday if not for the occasional facemask on dog walkers. We’ve decided that we do need to make a walk a part of our regular routine now, before we start working on our assassination plans.

The decluttering continues apace – how is it that we have so much stuff? Well some of it is still stuff left over from clearing out Lady M’s father’s place, and other bits are paperwork from earlier in both our careers, and others are just the detritus that builds up. I’ve even been throwing out old tabletop gaming notes and characters on the basis that if we’ve not played a given game in the best part of twenty years its not very likely that I’ll need it again. One thing I do need to start doing is taking photos of some of the older rulebooks that I have that I want to sell on because there’s a frightening amount of space being taken up by these older systems. I may hand the documentation then to Lady M to take charge of as doyenne of all things Ebay in our house, but we’ll see how the lockdown goes.

So, here we are. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and we’ve survived another week.

Happy Easter

I’m reminded of the probably fictional story doing the rounds of the mortification of a set of parents who took their young child to a restaurant. When asked what the child wanted to eat, he says “I wish to devour the unborn!” After a stunned moment of silence, an embarrassed parent says “Eggs, he’d like eggs.”

It’s Easter Sunday, of course, where people are gorging themselves on chocolate, and at least here in the UK also giving thanks for a couple of extra days off. Oh yes, and of course there’s that religious element too – which I have all manner of mixed emotions around depending on time of day, memories, seasons and random fluctuations in causality. I grew up in a vicarage, so it’s fair to say I had a religious upbringing, but that’s not where my path has taken me these days.

So, if you are celebrating – Happy Easter, He is Risen – if not, hope you’re having a great time with your families, or doing whatever you please. We’re having a quiet day, and some friends over for Cards Against Humanity in the evening. I think I’m going to go and craft some more #MadeUpModFacts

Happy Easter

It’s been a wonderfully weird weekend, juggling work, a good friend’s birthday, travel and chocolate with more tequila than I’ve drunk in a while; and now I’ve just realised I’ve even got a Bank Holiday Monday to enjoy.

Being diabetic, I can’t go overboard on alcohol or chocolate too often, simply because of the fluctuations in blood sugar levels they cause. Fortunately though there’s no ban in indulging now and then.

So, I can be moderately disreputable this weekend. Woo hoo! I’ll catch you all later, I’ve a book to finish reading, another to continue writing, and somewhere in there possibly some sleep too

Happy Easter

Growing up in a vicarage, Easter was always a busy time. It sounds fairly self evident, but a lot of people, especially if they aren’t regular church goers, don’t realise that Easter is far more important to the Church calendar than Christmas. Of course, being a typical child I was far more interested in the chocolate – being a vicar’s son didn’t make the slightest dent in that.

While my own faith and spirituality ebbs and flows and twists and turns on a regular basis, the one thing I miss from those days is the sense of anticipation and excitement that there always was in the vicarage. There were so many things at Easter to anticipate. It might be for the planning and logistics of the running of the parish and who would be on duty for which services (clue: no one wanted to do the eight am service after the dawn or midnight service). More selfishly for me it could be the desire for chocolate confections or the arrival of family for holidays.

Even more loaded with tension and anticipation were the various parties thrown for the congregation – which might range from pot-luck picnics if the weather was good or wine and cheese nibbles if it wasn’t. These were ‘all hands to the pumps’ affairs, with myself and all my brothers pressed into service taking coats, distributing drinks and circulating snacks to all and sundry – it’s probably why I always have time for anyone performing a similar job at any events I end up at.

These days though, it’s usually me doing the plotting and planning, and so tend to get wrapped up in organising things for other people rather than being able to enjoy them. If you ever see me at something I’ve organised, I’ll usually be the one looking slightly glum because I’m holding myself to an impossibly high standard. I’ll be worrying about balancing people and personalities, making sure the costs are covered and that things are going as smoothly as possible.

Contingency plans and alternative ways of doing something will be buzzing and competing for space in my brain and so I’ll be somewhat introspective, or distracted, or grumpy or a combination of all of the above. When I forgot how to button my own shirt while dressing for my wedding last year, it wasn’t nerves about getting married, it was a state of pure distraction from dealing with last minute cancellations, people not turning up at all, getting cravats issued to people and waiting for something to go wrong that I hadn’t anticipated. And that’s just from what I can consciously recall off the top of my head.

Thankfully my Best Man was on hand to dress me and remind me that there wasn’t anything else I could do now – the hotel staff would have it all in hand or would deal with it. It didn’t stop me worrying all evening though.

How is all this relevant to Easter? Well, it’s only by way of illustration of the sort of nineteen to the dozen things that run through my head, and probably goes some way to explaining why I’ve been so grumpy today. T’other half and I have had a bit of a grouchy start to the day – and it’s just been over something small, like not getting an Easter egg this year.

Adult me has spoken and grumped and we’ve batted it back and forth in our usual brutal and loving way, but the little kid in me is still looking round and feeling somewhat discombobulated, having made sure to get one for everyone else. And of course, being Easter Sunday morning, the local Tesco is shut which is entirely right and proper. It’s all just a bit of a ‘humph’.

Right – whinging done – roast beef dinner with all the trimmings is about to be served up to me, I have a glass of stout in hand, and the second series of Game of Thrones to watch with a very long suffering wife.

See you later, and Happy Easter.