This is not an eccentric writer who thinks the sun shines indoors, but a writer (my husband) who keeps getting dive bombed by a kamikaze fly. The hat worked and now I am being plaqued by the rogue fly.
The year was brought in with a bottle of Cava and Jools Holland on the TV. Fireworks went off in Monda and the customary meeting in the village square at midnight will have taken place. Grapes are eaten, one at each chime (12 in all for the non-mathematical of you) Seedless are advisable. The supermarkets sell little tins of 12 grapes, seems a good money-making venture. I also noticed the prices of loose grapes were considerably higher than normal.
It was a glorious sunny day yesterday, but we have had a rainy night and indoors seems to be the best place to be today. Max is away skiing with his sisters so it seems a good time to write and our working music today is Leonard Cohen and Cheb Mami (sang on Desert Rose with Sting). I find Cheb is great to write to and when I eventually learn to belly dance I already have my favourite tracks. Don't think I can manage it with Leonard though.
Alistair and I have decided not to drink any alcohol for a month. Why? To give our livers a rest after the festivities? As I know I have a fatty liver this is a good idea, especially as I hear you can lose a stone in weight just by stopping drinking for a month. We will test our will power - one day down 30 to go.