If you caught my TikTok/Insta Reel/YouTube outpouring last week (I KNOW you won't have missed it) you'll remember I've broken up for Christmas. Hurrah! This means, I've put the first draft of book 5/Leeza MacAuliffe book 3 to one side and am forgetting it for a bit. Whoppeee! Apart from being free to fully embrace the season, it means I'll be all the more creative and energised when I pick it back up in January. But I've not downed tools completely. Nope, I've got this blog, silly. Aren't you, and indeed the world at large, the absolute luckiest?!
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| Home to weights and toiletries, it's the PHOTO CHEST. |
Usually around now, I start to look for a childhood photo of me - from a Christmas of yesteryear. I use it as the focal point of a post about this time of year, and I publish it the Monday before Christmas. It's a nice one to write; seasonal, meaningful, yet relatively quick. I can get it done in half an hour, then get back to whatever's next on my To Do list. That's my job for today. The thing is, when I look through the folder on my desktop labelled Old Photos, it seems I've previously used every single childhood festive snap. I've only got about six to begin with, and as I've been writing this blog since 2017, I'm not sure how I've managed to eke them out this long. So what happens now? Well, I'm going to have to eschew my digital records and - brace yourselves - venture into my photo chest! This is a wooden box at the end of my bed, that holds every physical photo I've ever taken. As my camera-owning days ran from the age of sixteen to thirty five, there's a finite number of photos from that distinct window. Imagine if I were of a generation that didn't have a smart phone in my pocket. The photo chests would take over the house! No matter. That's my job for this afternoon. Open the box, find a suitable photo, and write a festive blog for your reading pleasure. Wish me luck.
I heard the best thing this week. A child I know of, is getting a diary for Christmas... so she can 'be like Leeza'. My fictional protagonist, Leeza McAuliffe, whose diary spans two whole books (available now for stocking filler fun!) is influencing young minds up and down the country. And you know what? I couldn't be more chuffed. I got proper chills and thrills when I heard. Look, diary writing as a youth is SO useful. It's a gift to your older self. You're finding your voice, learning your ethics, solving your problems and having the space and privacy to make mistakes and work out life. A diary is the route to finding yourself. It's the way of moving from being told what to think by the adults in your life, to discovering it for yourself.* So if Leeza and her antics have encouraged just one person (who may or may not know they're getting a diary at this point) to develop their inner world in order to live their outer life, then I am SO chuffed about it. It's not so much writing news but it made me happy and it's book related. It'll do.
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| How is this 40 years ago? |
Because of where I spent the past week (see Out and About for details) I rewatched Netflix's A Castle For Christmas. It's not the greatest movie but it was filmed near my recent break so I cracked on, awash with vibes. In more music-focused Culture news, I watched the BBC doc, Band Aid: Do They Know It's Christmas. The song is forty years old this year. And whilst it gets understandable criticism these days, this documentary - showing the stars of the day, awkwardly chatting, nervously singing in front of each other, and wondering if it would all come together in the end - is charming. Plus, the 80s pop nostalgia for those that love it, is unbeatable.
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| My version of local delicacy, Cottoms hotpot. FIT AS. |
One more week of healthyish eating and drinking. I say heathyish, but what I mean is, 'not crazy.' I'm keeping the cheese, the party food, and the puddings at bay, and trying to eat balanced meals for as long as possible. This weekend I made fish pie, cullen skink, and hotpot.** Warming, hearty, but each one with a decent amount of veg to keep me feeling virtuous.
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| North Berwick, forever in my heart. |
Ah, guys. I was in Scotland! Obvs you know that if you follow me on Insta - my timeline was riddled with it! But the mid-December week in North Berwick has become an essential part of my year. It keeps me sane when everything around me is not. This year, there was an added bonus. I tend to have a pint in the local pub - shoutout to The Ship - each night I'm there. When you're that close to a cosy boozer, why would you not? Last Monday, there was live music. Not only that, it was the North Berwick Songwriter's group, showcasing their Christmas songs. What started as a quick pint after tea, turned into a gorgeously festive, community-filled evening, jam-packed with musical loveliness. I bought the CD and ev. The night has become one of my top holiday memories and yet I just stumbled across it. Mad, innit?
I'll leave you now, to your days. I've got to venture into the photo chest, remember? I may be some time. There's always the chance, of course, that there'll be NO festive photos in there. And then what'll I do? I guess you'll find out this time next week. I'll be back, with, or without a photo. Until then!
Have a lovely week, folks.
*Caitlin Moran has more on the power of youthful diary writing, here (2.16 - 4.12)
**Cottoms hotpot is a regional delicacy - all over the place where I live, not so much elsewhere. No matter, my version pictured above tasted EXACTLY like the real thing and I couldn't have been happier.
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