Januaryism, a fine word (thanks Simon). Inspired by a maudlin Facebook post which in itself inspired positive reaction. So what’s the definition? Grey, cold, over-thoughtful, fresh, looking forwards, looking backwards but yes maudlin. I move too fast though (gotta make the morning last), first we have Decemberism and Decemberism in 2011 brought no snow, much wind, rain and darkness but punctuation of celebration and non-youthful exuberance.
Weekends with Knox (and The Trailer Trash Orchestra of course) – great nights at What’s Cookin’ and Club 85 and down to Brighton to play with our old compadres Leonard and Bubba – The Prince Albert is our Brighton home even though the iced jaegermeister machine is long gone. Steve and I stayed down and Will took us out after the show, in to the night for further frolicks then a stare-out showdown with the security at our beach front hotel, smoking on the step looking at the big wheel, the lights of the pier and the star speckled darkness of the sea.
Breakfast by the beach, the sound of a brass band honking and humming through a yuletide catalogue and up through the lanes before driving back in to dramatic skies.
Escape is good, escape is honourable, so the ferry to Dunkirk and then on to Bruges – at the side of the woods a few kilometres from town – aaand relax. Fiery fun filled eyes around the skating rink, old old buildings traced in the dark with white streams of electric light, hot coffee liquour and gluhwein, the finest hot chocolate in the world and a fire in a fish tank. Horses and carts and the biggest of smiles from Emelia and Jerome, Tintin biscuits and calming canal strolls – escape is both good and honourable. Stop to pick up the best coffee yule log ever assembled at Bergers – the mini Bruges - en Frances and back aboard the ferry for Jerome’s Birthday Frites.
Jesus and Justine and unfortunately Noel Edmunds all born on the 25th – joyous, relaxed, carols on the gramophone and day 1 of what shall be an enduring adventure with the Holga Pinhole. Emelia and the the new year both born on the 31st – Nutella and rum cake with exploding candle, Michael, Steve and I in gangster spectacles and ties – at home and pure celebration with the wonderful, the wondrous, the wild and the beautiful ones – Auld Lang’s Eyne then Poor, Drunk and Free.And so we arrive in Januaryism and perhaps it’s the embers of Decemberism that will keep us warm – though still no snow - through to that questionable commodity of Februaryism.
aaand relax.
Black and White pics taken with Holga Pinhole, all others with Olympus Digital
