Merry Christmas

Despite the earlier panic, I’ve finally finished ticking off my Christmas list and am getting ready to relax with a glass of Glayva.

The presents are wrapped, the tree lights are twinkling, there’s a mince pie for Santa Claus, a carrot for Rudolph and warm wishes to all for the festive season.

And remember, if you don’t get what you want in your stocking, smile graciously because it’s the thought that counts.

Besides, there are always the January Sales to look forward to…

Lots of love and festive frolics from all at the House of Hall
xxx

Farewell My Love

The end of a love affair is hard to bear and although I knew mine couldn’t go on forever, I had no idea it would stop so suddenly.

One minute you’re merrily skipping through life and the next you’re standing at the Chanel counter in Debenhams wearing an expression like a startled trout and saying, “How much?!” over and over again.

That was how, after many happy years together, my skincare and I parted.

Admittedly for a good few of those years I’ve come up with all manner of excuses and promises to cut back on other little luxuries to justify my costly cream, but with my day cream alone now weighing in at a hefty £82 (yes, that’s £82), the only way I can justify it, is if I give up food altogether.

Maybe one day we’ll kiss and make up again, but for now I’ll just have to live with my memories of our happy times together.

Tutus & Tinsel

Okay, it’s official. I’m panicking…

There are just 11 days until Santa and his sleigh arrive and I haven’t got a single present wrapped or card written. The internet order I placed to cover all possible pressie problems hasn’t arrived yet and I’m in Christmas crisis.

I’ve been planning the preparations (in my head) for weeks, but just haven’t got round to actually doing anything about them and now I realise that even if I enlisted Nigella and Delia to give a helping hand, I still wouldn’t be ready with a carrot for Rudolph.

Having decided it must be because we weren't feeling festive enough, Kevin and I celebrated our 17th Anniversary (Furniture is the official present for 17 years just in case you’re wondering) by going to see ‘The Nutcracker’ on Saturday night.

Usually that or a screening of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is enough to have us topping up the tree with tinsel and piling up the parcels beneath its branches. But this year – nothing.

The ballet was beautiful, but it didn’t fill us with the Xmas Atmos we had hoped for. I guess it’s time to hit the mulled wine and hope the elves will do the rest…

Perfect Presents

Just when you think you’ve seen the last of hospital wards…

Kevin had to be rushed in this week with pains in his neck and chest, and difficulty breathing. After a lot of tests (him) and a lot of trying not to cry (me), he was diagnosed as having a condition called Dressler’s Syndrome, which causes fluid to gather around the heart.

Honestly, the things he does to get attention!!

I’m being flippant – the reality was that I’ve never seen him in so much pain and I really thought I was going to lose him.

However, the arrival of two perfectly timed presents quickly put the smile back on our faces.

First up was the milk frother sent from London by Willie and Claudia. On their last visit to us, I had mentioned that despite being a lifelong tea drinker, Kevin had recently discovered the joy that is a latte and this was their gift to help him indulge his creamy passion.

Then a beautifully wrapped box arrived from New York. It was brimming full of spiced nuts, lovingly hand-made in April Benson’s kitchen (I’m beginning to think there is nothing this woman isn’t brilliant at) and they are delicious! I had to wrestle the box from Kevin twice and even in his fragile state, he’s quite strong.

It seems there are always little things just waiting round the corner to cheer you up when you need them the most.

Tress Stress

I’ve been fooled into a false economy with my follicles.

Because I’ve been so busy lately (and trying to cut back on my spending) I opted to have my hair cut at a local salon, rather than my usual James Dun's House, where they throw in all kinds of lovely extras as part of the package.

The five minute journey - as opposed to travelling into the City Centre - and twenty pound less charge for a cut and blow dry was enough to have me tripping to the salon with the smug air of Cheryl Cole in the L’Oreal advert.

It was only after my hair had been washed that I realised I had made a mistake and as I wasn’t prepared to leg it back to the car with soaking wet hair, I had no choice but to sit it out. My sadistic side was refusing to let me leave anyway; it wanted to punish me for my lack of loyalty to Liam (my hairdresser).

To be fair, the haircut I left with isn’t that bad, but it took over two hours. Well, actually the haircut took about 15 minutes – the rest of the time was taken up by my snipper talking about himself, looking at himself in the mirror and fixing his own hair.

That episode has been more than enough to let me see that once you find the hairdresser of your dreams, you stick to them like the glue on your extensions.

So, how lucky am I to have opened a belated birthday card - dropped off last night by my lovely chum, Kirsty - and to have found a voucher for James Dun's House inside?

Sharpen up your scissors Liam, here I come!