On Christmas... and being M.I.A
For anyone familiar with London during December, you will know that once the temperature drops, and the light dims, the city takes on what I like to call the Christmas-Threw-Up-On-Me look. You can't wander down a high street, visit a park or shop without being assaulted by colourful lights, Mariah Carey's singing and mince pies.
Even if you aren't attached to an office and their Christmas festivities, you can find yourself caught up in their merriment just by being in the same pub, bar, or restaurant. It's a very real hazard.
Which brings me to why my blog has been on the quiet side the last couple of weeks.
The first very real excuse is that I have been toiling away at the library, eager to finish a draft of my manuscript before the festive season completely takes over (and when I will find myself in France which I canNOT wait for!).
The second very real, though less worthy, excuse is that I have, yes, been caught up in the drunken merriment the city showers on its inhabitants in order that they may survive the sub zero temperatures and the burden of darker days. (Surviving the merriment is another matter entirely.)
So, I have decided, to cut the year a little short and say my Happy Christmases now rather than continue to post placeholder entries which, really, aren't fooling anyone.
And so I say to you all, a big thank you for reading my blog this year, have a fab Christmas, and you will hear from me soon-ish.