Christmas Presents

Without wanting to cast gloom over the proceedings, it makes me think that Christmas is very much about other people, and how bad news always seems worse at this time of year.

Yesterday three of my friends had bad news.

One has been told she has osteoarthritis and is terrified that she is going to lose all mobility and end up in a wheelchair. I think this highly unlikely, because she’s very active, but she has been in pain for a long time and is to have a thorough examination at the beginning of January. But as you can imagine, it’s not done much to uplift her spirits.

The second came in a phone call from someone who hasn’t been happy with her husband for a while. Well, years. She has always worked her butt off, cleaning and cooking and doing all the shopping as well as working seven days a week (she’s self employed) while her husband does – well, nothing would cover it.

Their marriage is over which should make her feel better, but she feels it’s all her fault, and for some reason she’s the one leaving the family home and the cat. (She is going to work in America in January for 2 months which has some bearing on who looks after the cat.)

How sad though. To have tried so very hard at a marriage that obviously wasn’t working, and to feel that she’s failed. I do feel for her so much.

The third is from a dear mate who’s just discovered her father is very ill.

Happy Christmas, eh?

But on a brighter note, I doubt I will get any work done today. As my Christmas preparations are zilch, I’d better get a move on.

And I’m meeting another writer, Liz Fenwick, this morning for coffee. She’s a member of the RNA and of the Novel Racers, and spends part of her time in Dubai and nips back to Cornwall when she can. It’s always great to meet other writers and will be a good chance to indulge in writerly chat/gossip for an hour or so. Called networking, you know?

I also have to buy presents, decorate the house, walk the dog, have my hair cut, and meet friends in the pub.

Yesterday was the most beautiful afternoon and a friend and I took Mollie out on the Woodland Walk at Trelissick (see picture above - not mine but that's what it looks like). It was the first sunny day for what felt like weeks, and although the sun was low in the sky, it painted the woods a soft gold, the sky a palest Wedgewood blue, the sea a clear emerald green.

I got back to find a card from a friend saying, ‘thanks for wonderful walks and for invaluable friendship.’

I couldn’t get better presents than those two.