Guido regularly tells me I should try not to over analyse thoughts. Keep it simple. Look in-front of you; don’t look back, otherwise you won’t see what’s ahead of you. He should be a psychologist and if he was analysing me let’s just say he’d be kept pretty busy. I guess he gives sound advice because 99.9% of the time, he’s deliriously happy. I get it. Really I do. But, there is but.
“But, what would you describe was your biggest personal highlight of this past year?” I asked Guido in bed this morning. It was very late. I’d eaten a croissant which was messy and there were buttery crumbs between the sheets.
We were also back at The Spanish Onion and I’m pleased to report we were slowly “recovering” from a hectic few days in Spain with his parents. Visiting Andalucía family members turned into more like a month shacked up with The Adams Family. They make my own clan seem perfectly normal, and that’s saying something.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to get all deep?” Guido asked, punching his pillow with his hand.
But I already was in deep, and like the windmills of my mind, it didn’t take that long to cast it spinning back to this time last year.
A dear friend lost. But new ones found. My parents in love (again). We gained dog called Brian and Guido got his man bun back. I put on 6 pounds around my waist. Then the cabbage soup diet lost 3 pounds around my thighs. There was a hell of a lot of work. Grind. Airport departure gates and lonely hotel rooms. Then home again. Great sex and, dare I admit it, mediocre mayonnaise. Brexit, Barbarella and Pie-gate.
“Can our lives really be compartmentalised into a few simple words?” I sighed – obviously deeply.
“Oh yeah that’s so easy,” Guido said seemingly without even having to think about it at all, “and it has to be my Baked Alaska. I distinctly remember it was June. It was hot. There was a round soft sponge cake base with a vanilla ice cream centre and I blow torched a merengue topping which I burned to absolute perfection.”
His eyes seemed to momentarily glaze over. Which just goes to show what thoughts of a calorific desert can do for you in bed. Add 6 pounds to your hips probably.
I rolled over and kissed him.
“Thanks for the memories,” I said. And in those few words, I meant every one of them.
There’s a quiet lull in London tonight. It happens at this time every year, and in some ways it makes everything seem quiet and so much more straight forward too. Perhaps you don’t need to analyse too much. I’ll make it my new mantra. And here, too, online we blog. Regardless of our location. We create a peaceful mosaic of all our lives for others to read and enjoy, and perhaps it doesn’t get any simpler than that.
Happy New Year everyone.