May All Your Memories Be Muddy

My Dear Fellow,

The tree in Charlotte Street gardens has gone up. You can't get a close look though. The gates are never open.

However, they WERE open last New Year's Eve. Or should I say New Year's Day. Er Indoors and myself went to a party at the house of L&A and it was tremendous. 

I think we were the last to leave (about 4am) and obviously no taxis were to be had. We were forced to walk home from Spittal Street. It's not so bad of a walk, but you know how Er Indoors feels about walking. 

Still, as we walked through Charlotte Square, I could see the tree, sparkling in the moonlight. And the gates were open! It was like a special Christmas miracle! "Come on!" I shouted. "Let's go and look at the tree!"

It would be like a special Christmas moment we would be able to share forever.

What I hadn't counted on was the mud. "Aaaaargh! I'm stuck!" Followed by, "I've lost my shoe!"

So the special Christmas miracle moment was cancelled while we looked for a leopard print ballet flat in the boggy grass. We found it, but it was full of mud and unwearable.

So that is how I ended up guiding my wife down Gloucester Lane at 4 something in the morning on New Year's Day in her bare feet leaving muddy tracks behind her.

I seem to recall the next day I paid my dues by washing the bedclothes that had footprints all over them. With a hangover I might add.

Now I think on it, the moment is still special. But not in quite the way I planned. Still, you have to admit, it is very "us".

El P.