New Year’s Eve was Sunday which also happened to be launderette Sunday. A long month, exacerbated by the Christmas holiday, had passed since our last wash day and the laundry basket was overflowing. On the other hand, it was New Year’s Eve and we were honour bound to try very hard to come up with good reasons as to why we should put off the task until next week.
So we went for breakfast. Chapel Market contains several cafes, most of which we have patronized at one time or another. The Millennium Cafe is a good one but our current favourite is the Perfecto Cafe. They are very friendly and have several vegetarian set breakfasts but will cheerfully replace items with others. So we enjoyed a good breakfast and then Tigger decided to have her hair cut. Her hair needing cutting, she said, though I thought she looked lovely as she was. In any case, having her hair cut put off deciding whether or not to do the laundry so off we went to the hair cutters.
By now the sun was shining so we didn’t really have any excuses to put off the laundry chore any longer. We packed our wheelie suitcase and a shopping trolley and caught the bus to the stop nearest the launderette. We tend to save up our laundry and usually need at least two machines. On Sunday we needed three. Fortunately, there weren’t many people in so we had no trouble getting washing machines and dryers but it’s a job that takes a while, as you probably know.
By the time we got home and had everything folded and put away it was about 4 p.m. The weather had taken a turn for the worst so we didn’t feel much like going out. We vaguely though of going for a meal but somehow it never happened. Tigger rustled up something later in the evening and that was that. We dozed, did sudoku puzzles, listened to the radio or CDs and generally took our ease. At a particular moment, I was deeply into a sudoku when Tigger asked “Do you know what time it is?” I realized there was only one reason why she would ask that: “Lumme,” I said, “It’s the New Year.” And so it was.
I don’t drink alcohol anymore. I used to but began to find that after a few drinks I turned into The Hulk. OK, I didn’t really but it did make me bad tempered and after a couple of embarrassing incidents I decided to give it up. It’s a purely practical thing, nothing to do with ethics or morality and I don’t condemn drinking as such. So I toasted the New Year with a glass of Schloer fizzy fruit drink while Tigger polished off a bottle of Cava she had bought a few weeks previously in case it came in handy over the festive period. And, as you see, it came in handy, so she was right.