Blimey, it’s blowing a hooley out there. The weather is feeling suitably wintry and I am feeling reflective. I have said it before, and I will say it again, as a blogger you have got to mark your milestones. It’s that dead period between Xmas and New Year, I saw a funny meme (oh God I have spent too much time with an 11-year old) about how you feel festive in the run-up to Xmas and then just fat for most of January but in this in-between time you eat cheese and wonder what day of the week it is. So, tis indeed a time to reflect upon the greater cycles that govern us.
I was out this morning tackling a pile of wood that we chopped down last year. It’s now the time to collect it from the field and stack it inside to dry fully to keep us warm next Christmas. It’s why we make chutney, you lay things down to pick up further down the line and enjoy the fruits of your past labours. Oooh, I think I am going to go full Lion King and present a child to the future generations and chant.
Failing that, let’s look back at 2017. I was putting together a “Faces of 2017 Quiz” for New Year’s Eve, so went through the People We Lost pages in the paper and 2017 was a lot kinder on the great and the good than 2016… obviously not for the people who actually died in 2017. But where 2017 we lost David Bowie and Victoria Wood, for 2017 it was Bruce Forsyth and Johnny Hallyday. So, that’s errr, great.
Well, I should probably steer clear of politics, but I won’t… We had a General Election and it was well, basically, the biggest political miscalculation we have seen since someone decided to call a referendum to resolve the “European Issue”, way back in the mists of time when dinosaurs roamed the sunlit uplands and David and George were masters of all they surveyed, circa: the year before last. How we managed to go from what looked like a dead cert of Teresa May consolidating her hold on power to do with it what she willed, to Jeremy Corbyn looking like the sensible option, is certainly beyond me. I think it’s great but I certainly didn’t see it coming. For what it’s worth, I didn’t vote for him and I wouldn’t until he had a clear plan for Europe. But what a complete, total, fascinating mess.
If this wasn’t the actual reality that I, my family and so many people I know and love were living in, the current political landscape is a thing of scandalous beauty for the beholder. Who cares that Kevin Spacey is too morally repugnant to continue in his role as President Underwood in House of Cards, the U.S. remake of the classic BBC series? Neither of those series have got anything on the reality unfolding before us. On the “oh, come on you are really taking this too far” test, real Trump scores far more highly than fictional Underwood. “Oh, come on, just a whiff of collusion between a U.S. President and Russia would bring the whole house of cards tumbling down! …surely…? wouldn’t it?”
And what’s more! While some 25 years separated the airing of the U.K. and U.S. versions of the series, we have the two running concurrently! Exclamation marks!!!!
Meanwhile on the home front… Otto has hit secondary school and… and I really shouldn’t write about him anymore online. So no more photos of him in the bath, marked Public on Facebook and certainly no rants about “What the bloody hell happened there? Why did no one tell me that just because you had got them to sleep through the night and not poo in their pants you hadn’t actually Achieved Parenthood? That there was a whole lot more poo to come and very much outside of the pants (I feel I am stretching this metaphor)”, however cathartic such a rant might be.
So, onto Ava-Jane, after all this blog is supposed to be all about her… well, she is still the most fabulous creature alive. She is still having the occasional fit but I think we are getting the meds balanced and they seem to be less frequent. They do leave her a bit shell-shocked. Fo could see she had had one today even though she saw her a long time after it had happened. But other than that she is really progressing with her language. She managed to tell Helen that she had had a bath yesterday and didn’t need one today – needs must! Really importantly, I think she can focus on things for longer stretches of time.
I am not someone who generally or genuinely reflects much about the future. It has always seemed to have crept up on me, which I enjoy. I like history and the cycles of nature, viz chutney above. But the future, who knows? I think this is especially true for AJ, no one lives for the moment like she does. If she is having a drink of milk and you put a fluffy toy on her table to cuddle with while she drinks her milk, she’ll chuck the milk on the floor and cuddle the fluffy toy. Then when she has had enough of cuddling the fluffy toy, she’ll chuck that on the floor and say, “milk, please,… floor” while transfixing you with her piercing blue eyes. I don’t think she really feels complicit in the milk being on the floor, so exhorting her not to chuck it on the floor again doesn’t get you very far.
So we should all be more like Ava-Jane: live for the moment, giggle as much as you can and if you have made a bad decision and chucked something on the floor that you want back again, you only have to ask and look cute (FYI in this laboured metaphor, which is even more stretched than the one above, the milk represents the EU, so remember: Milk = EU.) Essentially all we need to do is realise that we didn’t want to leave the EU after all because it wasn’t that bad and all this leaving was a bit of a pain in the arse, flutter our eyes at some Eurocrat and ask to come back in again, bitte schön and Roberto is your mother’s son. So, all very unlike AJ dropping her milk or likely to happen. I think our milk is staying on that floor and even if we do a really sad face, no one is going to pick it up for us, that’s where it’s staying, down there with the fluffy toy and our table will be empty and we will be hungry and thirsty and bored.
And on that happy note, I bid you all a great 2018 from us all.
AJ with Auntie Lau-Lau