New Years Eve is a time for elegance and extravagance. It’s pretty much the only dinner party of the year where black tie doesn’t feel like a crazy dress code. And much as I usually like to mix low brow high brow, nobody feels good about eating lasagna in a cocktail dress. Continue reading
You’d think that a little detox between Christmas, Christmas leftovers and New Year would be a good idea. This would be the day to eat vitamins, to go for a brisk walk perhaps, to feel healthier again.
A great day for a spinach salad, in fact.
But I will be tucking into another Christmas dinner. Continue reading
It’s Christmas Eve.
I’m in Wigan celebrating a double whammy with my family. That joyful Christmas hunkering down feeling; the shops are shut, there’s nothing else to do but sit and wait for morning. Also, my grandparents’ wedding anniversary. They have been married for 71 years.
That’s a lot. Continue reading
Christmas is a compromise. I have family in London and Wigan and Shropshire. Jon has family in Scotland, in Surrey, and Worcestershire. And this year, his mum and dad rented a house in Somerset for a party, so that went on the mileometer too.
The house, utterly beautiful with its grey stone dusted with a light frosting of snow, had everything that you might need for a classic murder, including a library and candlesticks. And there we were, in laws all together. It was a perfect set up. Continue reading
On our last day in New York before returning to the UK for Christmas, Jon and I have established a tradition. I finish off the Christmas shopping. He meets me at Columbus Circle to see the giant hanging stars do their light show thing and to carry the bags. We go to Thalia and eat cheeseburgers and drink martinis.
Then we go home to pack. Continue reading
“Congratulations! You’re engaged!†said one woman to another as they boarded the subway at 42nd street station. “Can I see the ring?â€
“No.†replied the other. “He’s not given it to me yet.â€
Interesting. I stopped, hand on my iPod. Continue reading
I love a good carol concert. I love to sing in one and I love to listen to one. I want descants and cheesy bell music. I want Winter Wonderland and Most Wonderful Time of the Year. But I also want carols that take me back to being a child, singing along to the tape as we drove up to Wigan in the car; O Little Town of Bethlehem, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, We Three Kings of Orient are. Continue reading
It’s been an interesting weekend for Sara who is recovering from the aftershocks of the office Christmas party after-party.
The office party was a sober affair. She sipped a glass of white wine and had intelligent conversations with superiors, and got out of there along with several of her colleagues at close to 10. At which point, they decided to go to a dive bar on the lower eastside to have a proper drink and relax. The text message circuit went into overdrive, and pretty soon, the whole office Christmas party had upped camp and moved over to the dive bar, where relaxing began in earnest and people even took off their jackets.
Tequila occurred. Continue reading
“What do you buy a man who you think you might be falling in love with for Christmas?†wondered Amazing Grace as we admired the food-themed windows at Barneys (though, on a slight tangent, did anyone else find them aggressive? Were they supposed to be that angry?)
“I mean, what if I buy him something really heart-felt and he buys me a cd? Or what if I buy him a cd and he buys me tickets to the ballet or something really expensive? It’s so hard to know.â€
And so the great Christmas Present Quest begins. Continue reading
It was a night-in with the latest addition to my Christmas music collection (obsession); Christmas with the Rat Pack. Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis jr. really getting into the Christmas spirit (and, from the sound of it, Christmas spirits.)
So there was red wine, and there was my friend John, and there were all the ghosts of Christmas romances past. Continue reading
