Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

Happy mid-November everyone! And happy 40-days til Christmas!!  

Goodness gracious me… I opened up my blog site this morning and found the most recent draft was entitled “November already!”  and I had opened it with the above lines, which I have now struck through! Sadly, its no longer November, and Christmas is 2 and a half weeks 5 days off.

Winter is well and truly upon us.  Pumpkin season, the Orange Season with its vegetable harvest, its array of yellow, orange and red leaves has passed us.  The trees are now all very bare, except for the Christmas lights, and the soggy leafy mulch has been sucked up, swept up and blown away by the colony of brave individuals who endure thermal temperatures to keep our city looking awesome.

This week we have not been blessed with blue skies- instead it has remained foggy, overcast and very very grey.  If it wasn’t for the adornment of Christmas lights everywhere, I would most certainly have taken up some of the gloominess that is hovering.  Granted, the dusting of snow that has fallen on the north-eastern side of the city has made for a couple of pretty images- the trees are a sparkly mass of white, but truth be told, the snow that has fallen is in fact ‘pollution snow’. Due to the industrial sites across the River Ill, whatever pollution is in the air has essentially been frozen, and settled down on terra firma.  Its horrendous to see how thick it actually is considering that its in actual fact frozen air pollution, but the kids are fascinated, and it has provided a great source of amusement.  With minimum temperatures rising to just above 2 degrees, the ‘snow’ melted, and on a section of tarred pavement, the mush has turned to ice, and my girls have been sliding across it with much delight (and as you can imagine, my horror, but I have to keep remembering they have more skill on ice than me!)

As for November- it was a write off.  After my announcement in my last letter to you that I had a job, that came crashing to an end 2 days before I was due to start.  They told me that they “did their sums”, and realised they couldn’t actually afford to pay me.

I screamed out in frustration, and then, in front of my girls, I started sobbing.  A huge part of the last 18-20 months has been a case of me not actually getting a break.  It feels like the cards have been stacked up against me- dealing with the grief of death without somebody to hold your hand through it has been awful.  I got to a point where I actually embraced the weight I put on.  I told myself that there was nothing wrong with it, that I would live my life to its glutinous full, and that I would just hide it with clothes that I wore.  I didn’t realise to what extent I had caved in on myself.  And then other things got in the way, and I still couldn’t get a break, except I did get a kick up the proverbial ass, and it made me so nauseous that I stopped eating.  And I made a huge effort to get back to work, because what else have I got to show for the last 3 years of my rather pathetic life?

So when the job that I had scored fell through, and nobody held my hand through that anguish, I continue to fall apart.

However, I had something else on the cards.  A friend of a friend was buying a restaurant and wanted to convert it to an Irish Pub, with lunch time meals, and I just happened to be around at the right time.  The very first discussion we had about it was mid-September, but it was only in mid-November that I had confirmed job offer.

I am the kitchen boss.  I am the boss of myself, I am the boss of the dish-washer (myself) and I am the boss of the orders person (myself).  Its a small, really quaint little job.  We serve a “Meal of the Day”, as if it was a cantine meal at any Compass Group unit.  The pub seats only 30 people, and it opens for lunch at 12, and we take last orders by 13h30, but for the most part (8 lunch days so far), customers come in at 12h15, and want to be out by 13h00, so its a crash course in figuring out what to serve thats cheap and cheerful and easy to serve up while still hot…

It’s an “on the cards” French job, so in theory I have access to French pension now, but the salary is only just enough to cover the babysitter I need to hire for when the girls are on holiday. Perhaps in the new year my boss will want me to work a few evenings and a Sunday lunch which means my weekly hours will go above the 20 I’m expected to, and maybe the extra hours away from home will be a good thing.  Unfortunately right now, I’m desperately trying to regain some form of normality, and all I want is to be held and to hold onto what’s familiar and special to me.

Sigh, it’s been another week, and clearly I don’t have the time that I used to. Or I just don’t have the mental strength but that’s a story for another day.

My friends, I’m going to sign off, mostly just because I may never get round to wishing you a Merry Christmas if I don’t do this now.

This season I plan on drinking my fair share of French bubbles, and as usual, I have Foie Gras and a leg of lamb in my fridge ready for Christmas lunch. Aside from that, I am praying for a few happy days of pleasant relaxation but time will tell.

May your festive season be a blessed one. My prayers are that He holds you close and safe, and gives you strength for what is challenging you. This I pray for myself too.

God Bless, and all my love,

Moi,

Xxx