At 8.30pm we arrived at The George pub for an evening of drinks and music from The Orange Circus Band. New Year’s Eve! Bye to 2016, year of celebrity deaths and far right politics. The pub was hot, and busy, drinks and conversation flowed, and at 10pm the band came on. At home we had left a party of 18 and 19 year olds, playing Twister, drinking vodka shots. This of course was to end in tears, via a chain of sickness and crashing out.
By midnight I was home, washing up sticky shot glasses, emptying out half drunk cans of Strongbow, filling cups of water, making toast, making myself coffee.
By 2am the house was a bit tidier, all the crisps and breadsticks swept up, iced buns removed from the bathroom (yes, really, one girl had been crying in there, and her friend took the food in to cheer her up). Two young men were chatting, snuggled under sleepbags, in the front room, and my own son fast asleep upstairs. Husband returned from the pub to a fairly orderly house.
I slept badly, dreams of drunken people interspersed with real life background noises. At 8am, up and kettle back on, the first of a morning long round of drinks and bacon sandwiches, cheese toasties and more washing up. Happy New Year.
By 2pm everyone is up, eaten, on their way, lost property in the hall, front room restored to how it had been 24 hours previously, dining table still suffering the burden of hospitality.
9pm and we are here, diaries and notebooks out, all lined up for a new year – 2017. I doubt there will be little general change – reckon we could do with a new tablecloth, I don’t fancy drinking for a while, there won’t be another teenage party where the house is left unattended. A diet is no good as there is the over purchase of Christmas food to be fully tackled, celebrity deaths are out of my hands, and all attempts to say ‘best wishes for a prosperous and healthy 2017’ are beaten down by true life getting in the way at every turn.
Time to listen to SLAVES ‘TAKE CONTROL’ – it’s about all we can do.