Sun 1: Damn, the Christmas lights aren't working after eleven months in storage, so I've had to resort to my spare string instead. Mon 2: I enjoyed Knives Out at the cinema, a proper whodunnit, carefully crafted, but perhaps not enough twisty turns to be fully satisfying to a UK audience. Tue 3: Reading Elton John's soul-baring autobiography, extremely surprised in an early chapter to discover that he once lived in Croxley Green ("in a horrible flat with peeling wallpaper and damp"). He's risen a long way since 1960. Wed 4: Dear Surrey Quays, it is Christmas even if you haven't visited the Wishmas Owl. Thu 5: Went to Hyde Park. Entered Winter Wonderland. Walked Through Winter Winterland. Exited Winter Wonderland. That'll do me for 2019. Fri 6: The new link road connecting the north and south sides of the Olympic Park looks like it'll be opening early in the New Year, and then they can close Clarnico Road (and build flats on it). Sat 7: Greggs don't have a branch in Pinner, otherwise I would have succumbed and bought my first festive bake of the season.
Sun 8: Several of the Tesco carrier bags I stashed ten years ago, hoping to reuse and recycle later, have disintegrated into a white confetti mulch. I fear thousands of microplastic flakes are environmentally far less friendly than a single bag ever was. Mon 9: This year's double issue Radio Times (mumble) costs £4.95 (grumble) which OK is only 5p more than last year (sigh) but also now comes with a spine rather than staples (grrr) so you can't rip the holiday supplement out of the middle any more and bin it. Tue 10: Some years a flash of Christmas inspiration strikes. This year it flashed on a wet walk across the Olympic Park, somewhere near the fountains, and I was well pleased. If I sent you a Christmas card this year, I hope it lived up to expectations. Wed 11: Walked out of the Palace of Westminster just as the policeman on duty was walking away from the turnstile carrying all of Wednesday's security pass lanyards. "No, you keep yours as a souvenir," he said, so I have, as a reminder of a long lost era. Thu 12: The utter sheer tension of waiting for the announcement of General Election exit poll, very much the tipping point from benign stalemate to fearful future. Fri 13: Apparently the artwork on the front of the new tube map "is an apt metaphor signalling the end of the Northern line and a nation on edge individually, collectively, politically and socially", and I wish I got paid for writing bollocks. Sat 14: Hurrah, both series of Nighty Night are back on iPlayer, and I'd forgotten what a glorious beast Jill was.
Sun 15: One single daffodil has opened up in the Olympic Park, genuinely just one, on the grassy slopes facing the City Mill River. It'll be dozens by next weekend. And (checks diary) fractionally later than last year. Mon 16: I cannot believe an ink cartridge for my printer now costs £42, although admittedly it is now twenty years old and I should probably invest the money in a new machine, not a tiny reservoir. Tue 17: Attempted to buy a birthday card for BestMate, and one year I'll remember to do this before December while there's still a genuine selection. Wed 18: The waitress told us their supplier had run out of pigs in blankets, so we walked out, then went to the other branch in town who had plenty, and they were scrumptious. Thu 19: I have started swearing at Newsnight. This is not a good sign. Fri 20: I bought some souvenir chocolates in Amsterdam in 2003. Tonight I finally finished them off. (and no, they're just chocolate) Sat 21: A guitar shop in the East Village invites you to ring them on 02031 434 809, and I don't think a telephone number has ever niggled me more.
Sun 22: I've completed the entire Guardian prize Christmas mega-crossword apart from the Cornish hamlet, dammit. Mon 23: Returned. Remembered. Tue 24: Went round to inspect/admire my niece's first house. Inside it already looks cosy and homely. Outside will look lovely once the builders have eventually finished, although I fear the rabbit droppings all over her front lawn may be a permanent fixture. Wed 25: It's the first Christmas Day since 1993 that everyone's been over 20... so we slept in a bit. Thu 26: At no other time of year does the tray of crispy nibbly snacks endlessly refill itself. For the sake of the health of the nation, this is probably just as well. Fri 27: Never underestimate the complexity of trying to operate someone else's television by using two or more unfamiliar remote control boxes. I generally end up turning the set off, or trapped in some infernal subroutine, or accidentally switching to Mrs Brown's Boys, before finally ending up on the intended channel. Sat 28: Successfully endured the rail replacement coach, followed by the rail replacement tube.
