I am the (very proud) owner of one baby who’s convinced that sheer hours put in equals quicker road to walking. Tired. Very tired. But, lucky for me, I checked the official fine print of my resolutions…
1. Make an effort to fall in love with bulging wardrobe for whole month of January.
2. Be more imaginative with masses of unworn clothes, accessorising and reinventing in manner of home-grown stylist.
3. Blog results.
And since I am the only adjudicator, I decree there’s nothing in the rules to forbid a day of rest…where did I specify ‘daily’? Sometimes, I’m so thankful for the vagueness of my own thoughts (although this gratitude doesn’t ordinarily come when I’ve mislaid my house keys/debit card/IPhone yet again).
And, of course, I read in another book of rules somewhere that sunday’s aren’t to be messed with. So, nothing I can do about it…all roads point to rest. Day off then. Or rather, I shall content myself with wearing slippers as being a satisfactory attempt to obey the rules. For, every year, I am gifted at least one pair of these dandy items which are then destined to live under the bed until I deign to take them to the charity shop. Don’t feel pity; they go to a better home.
This year was a bumper crop (sorry, Kazuo Ishiguro…I nicked your line!) Two pairs of slippers! I shall be spending the day in this fine pair and, if they’re especially lucky, I shall accessorise them later with some baby spit and a spot of Weetabix.