The table has finally turned

Don’t be alarmed folks! That sound you hear isn’t an intruder, it is in fact me, the Ghost of Blog-mas Past, shuffling back into your lives with a rather sheepish look and a large sackful of disbelief at the amount of time it’s been since my last post!  Apologies for my tardiness, these last few weeks seem to have just whistled by.

So, how are you all? Ready for Christmas?  Or sick of people asking if you’re ready for Christmas because you’re painfully aware that you’re not and you are fed up with being on the receiving end of faux sympathetic smiles and words such as, ‘Oh well, I’m sure the kids won’t mind too much that you’ve left it so late to order the only thing they’ve asked for that it’s now out of stock’, or, ‘You haven’t put your tree up yet?  Gosh, we were all trimmed up by November 30th’, and the one I particularly get a lot of, ‘You don’t like tinsel?  Ooh you misery, why don’t you like Christmas?’  FYI, I never actually said that I don’t like Christmas, I just can’t abide that tatty-looking, nasty-smelling, strand-shredding, pitiful excuse of a Christmas decoration that is called tinsel.  Oh, and that Christmas song by Paul McCartney.  Simply having a wonderful Christmas time, my arse.

Anyway, I was going to write a whole post about Christmas but I actually feel a bit Christmassed-out already.  It seems to have been a long old slog this year (I guess that’s what happens when the shops start stocking Christmas stuff in the first week of October) and although I still have a bit to do, I just can’t wait for it to actually be here after all the weeks of waiting.

Instead, I thought I would share with you my exciting news about a new addition to the family. Yes folks, I am delighted to announce that we are now the proud parents of…..a new dining table! Oh, I can’t tell you how happy I am! We have had the same table for over fifteen years, bought for the princely sum of £199.99 after we got married and before we had kids, and it has served us well.  So well in fact, that this has had a lot to do with my reluctance to buy another table.  It has been sturdy, the dark wood and ‘intricate’ beading on the chairs, were very much in keeping with our Mediterranean inspired terracotta walls and bright yellow woodwork back in the day (don’t ask, colour co-ordination has never been my strong point – it’s why I wear so much black) and I just couldn’t justify buying another table when there has been nothing wrong with this one.

Well, that has been my public stance for the last few years anyway. But the real reason I’ve been so hesitant to trade in our trusted table – and I know that this is completely daft and overly sentimental – is because of the fifteen years’ worth of memories that this humble piece of furniture harbours beneath its scuffed and scratched exterior.  This table has groaned under the weight of Christmas Eve buffets, back in the days before kids, when friends used to come to eat, drink and be merry before a bout of excessive festive drinking around the village pubs.  This table has been painted on, play-doughed on, glued on, probably vomited on and definitely cried on.  It’s had drinks spilt over it, bogies stuck to it (I did have to tell Pud off about that), unwanted dinners spat out on it and has endured many a food stand-off when the kids were little.  It’s welcomed friends and family around on special occasions and has stood fast when loaded up with cakes and treats for a fund raising coffee morning.  And if I lean in and listen very carefully, I swear I can hear fragmented whispers of conversations and giggles with loved ones who once sat down with us at our table but are sadly no longer here to tell me to stop being so daft about a lump of wood.

So after months (years) of procrastination, I have finally bitten the bullet and bought a new table and chairs. I gave our old faithful table one last wistful look and watched on as Pud dismantled it.


Phallic coat peg

A standard day in the life of our table

I will miss the handy, phallic coat and bag hangers that the chairs have provided, not two steps from the cupboard where such items are actually supposed to be housed.  I will miss not being able to move my arms sufficiently to cut my dinner up when more than four people are wedged around it.  I will miss the blob of golden syrup that has been stuck on it for the last three months.  But I AM excited about having a proper, grown up table and can’t wait to stack my rubbish all over the extra space it provides, and to shout at anyone who dares to put a drink down on it without using a coaster!  Oh yes, I see fun times ahead for us all #makingmorememories and all that.


Happy Christmas to you all – and may your tables, whatever shape and size they are, be crammed with happiness, laughter and lots of vodka! xxx


Theres always a fruit bowl