Is there anybody out there who actually likes January? If so, please let me know. I really dislike this month and am not sure why. I suspect it is because we have just got over Christmas and the enforced jollity which is New Year and then, pow, here we are again, back to the normal routine, nose to the grindstone blah blah.
I think my dislike is due to the fact that, for the third year running, I have been felled by the Dreaded Lurgy, probably the flu. As you know, I live on my own, a domestic state which suits me very well, but when one is ill then its downside comes to the fore. Then one longs for somebody to put the kettle on, make a cup of tea and generally sympathise. On the other hand, there is nobody there to witness the pasty face, the bags under the eyes, the bird nest hair and the general shambling around in a dressing gown covered in egg yolk which one's palsied hand dripped down the front when trying to eat a boiled egg and soldiers....
OK so I get moaney and whiny when ill and thank goodness that stage has passed. However, I am still feeling wobbly and generally low, so am staying indoors, reading, watching DVDs and keeping warm. I am also not spending money which is my main priority at the moment. I have had a running battle with the Inland Revenue for three years now over a tax demand and it has taken all this time to sort it out and only the intervention of my MP goaded them into action. In the end it was a woman who sorted it out. Now, please don't level accusations of sexism but this does not surprise me. I have been through correspondence with Tax Inspectors, Complaints Inspectors, Tax Advisers, all men, who have rambled on and explained nothing, I even received one letter saying 'please do call me if you have any queries and I will personally see what can be done'. The letter was unsigned. Then a final letter explaining everything, a model of clarity and clear English, and it was a woman and I am most grateful to her.
Anyway, to cut a long and tedious story short, all is now sorted but it involved me paying £1,000 to the IR. There is no doubt I do owe it but there is also no doubt that it is due to the tax system that this has risen and they freely acknowledge that it is their fault, but I still have to pay. So this has now been done and my mind is finally at rest. I have also been assured that I do not need to fill in a Return this year and all is now straightforward and sorted. Yeh, right. Yesterday, despite having filled in a Return and paid this bill, I received a letter warning me that I will be fined £100 if I don't get my tax Return in by the end of the month. So another letter fired off to the IR telling them in the politest terms possible to please check their records and confirm that all is in order. Oh, alright, it wasn't polite....
I have also heard of the death of my Uncle John. He was my uncle by my marriage and, though the rest of the family dropped me like a hot potato when I quit the marital home, Uncle John remained a staunch support and full of kindness. He was a real gentleman, kind, courteous, immaculately dressed and such beautiful manners - he called me before Christmas and said he did not think he would be around much longer and we had a lovely chat. He died peacefully in his sleep at the age of 97. He met my mum on a couple of occasions so I hope that somewhere they are having a gossip. It was a good end but I shall be glad to see the back of January and the coming of Spring.
Have just read this post through and gosh I sound a misery so will now say that I have been so cheered by all the message sent to me, by lovely books sent by lovely publishers, and have been thoroughly enjoying reacquainting myself with Dickens as it is His Year. This morning I finished Great Expectations which I have not read for over 40 years and, with more knowledge of his life and works than hitherto, loved every single moment of it. I could not put it down and will be writing about it later on in the week.
Am now about to cook myself a belated brekkie, bacon and egg and coffee await me. I may re-watch Sunday night's episode of Sherlock which had me on the edge of my seat so I can work out once more How they Did It. Cracking stuff.
Au reservoir.
