Iceberg!

“At last the anchor was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It was a sharp, cold Christmas; and as the short northern day merged into night, we found ourselves almost broad upon the wintry ocean, whose freezing spray cased us in ice, as in polished armor.” Moby Dick, Herman Melville

Curse of the White Witch, cunting Narnia bollocks!!!!! 2 weeks without heat or hot water!!!! 8 months pregnant!!!!
Well, the boiler got fixed just before Christmas, on the proviso we didn’t use the washing machine because of the highly, ahem, imaginative plumbing rendered by the installers. Anyway (deep pregnancy yoga breath), it is being sorted as I type.

The run-up to Christmas was not easy, as the anniversary of Ash’s death was on the 21st Dec and it was a solemn day for me, full of traumatic memories and difficult thoughts to grapple with. It was a landmark, however, in the sense that life trundles on regardless and the measure of our character is shown in how we adapt and carry on living, I suppose. Only, sometimes I feel so low that I wonder if I really have moved away from the frightened, wracked and bruised person I was after Ash checked out of the Grizzly Living Motel. I feel guilty still about loads of things, including feeling that he is far better off where he is, combined with feeling awful for having moved on, having had luck enough to find a man who I’ve fallen totally in love with, and having fallen hopelessly pregnant at the drop of a hat! But like I recently wrote to a mate I went to school with, these good things only happen when the conditions are right. The forecast for my life’s course, I’ve always believed, involves hard fucking work. Happiness is not an automatic right. It is a gift you give yourself.

Zero hour is approaching. It has not been made easy by my sister’s illness. Again I will expound, thank the Gaya, God, Mohammed, Buddha for Paul. Without his support and total understanding I would not have survived this far. My sis had a crisis and ended up in hospital again before Christmas, and again on New Year’s Day evening. The NHS is fucking about with her medication and some complications arose the day before yesterday. She's ok now but that’s another story...

Most provisions are organized for The Arrival, which is just as well as am having mobility issues which prevents long shopping trips. Thank God for on-line shopping or we wouldn’t have been half as organized for the ‘festive’ period. That’s another joke, being organized. Well, I would if I could but I can’t. Manage to keep a thought in my head, that is. My brain has retracted as much in fear of what is coming as the fear of ending up like my other internal organs which have been crushed up against my esophagus. Dyspepsia. Nice. Aside from broken sleep nothing to report, unless horrendous stretch marks are of any interest to anyone! Doubt it.

Apart from the stuff (God, we are drowning in stuff!!) we are also having to consider Cargo’s future and spiritual well-being. At least one aspect is almost sorted, that of the Godfather(s)…EVAN! YOU AWAKE? YES IT’S YOU I’M TALKING ABOUT!!! One down. Have yet to ask Tiger Flea (Jeiff) if he would honour us. I hope he accepts because Daddy-O and I have our heart set on the comedy value of the Christening photographs owing to the huge disparity in height between the two chosen Godfathers!!!

As for Godmothers, I have decided that if it’s a girl she should have three, like Sleeping Beauty – slightly nauseating, I know.

That’s it for now. Ears have been bent enough. Checking out. …And a Happy New Year!!!! I actually mean it, you cynical bastards!!!

Ooh! Ooh! Another restaurant recommendation: Mogador Maroccan Restaurant, Portobello Road (no 300 and something, on the north end of Portobello, up by George's Fish bar, so get out at Ladbroke Grove). Totally affordable - about £20 per person. Best starter is the augergine and the seafood platter for two. For main course I recommend lamb with prunes and apricots - meat is melting off the bone - superb, the fish (seabass when we went, done on charcoal - heavenly), pheasant meat in filo parcel - exquisite but it is for those who like sweet tasting things. We didn't get as far as desert.