The last time I wrote to you it was halloween, and somehow, time has magicked its way in a forward motion, as is its wont, and I’ve just spent the morning decorating my Christmas tree (a little evergreen I keep outside all year in a pot, now abundant in wooden koala bears, red bells, glass stockings & topped with a cardboard angel I made aged 6-ish), with a blazing fire, radio 4 and a determination that everything will happen perfectly in its own sweet time…
Lots to mention in this bumper post, so moving swiftly to it:
LAST DATES FOR POSTING:
If you’re in the UK, you’ll want to etch these in your mind (I, for one, know I still have plenty of shopping to do and am loving supporting small, independent businesses!). So with no further delay (seriously), you’ll want to place your orders before these dates:
– For second class (standard) postage: Tuesday 18th December
– For first class postage: Thursday 20th December
The other day, I watched an outdoor performance of Romeo and Juliet set in the grounds of Oxford Castle (I don’t believe summer evenings can get more quintessentially English). They say (and by ‘they’ I mean Juliet) that a Rose is a rose by any other name (‘That which we call a rose / By any other word would smell as sweet). It’s true, and there’s no mistaking the rosy purity with which this email is unapologetically drenched. I’ll get straight to it:
There’s a new bottle on the block and I think you’re going to like it.
‘Monday Monday, so good to me’ …is a lyric embarrassingly (yet calendricularly-appropriately) stuck in my head today (The Mamas and Papas song is being sandwiched into my December choir group performance and I have an excessive number of ‘bah dah, bah, dah dah dah’s in my head post-rehearsal, alongside the more traditional O Little Town of Bethlehem, O Come All Ye Faithful and an alarmingly-intricate-yes-pleasingly-challenging alto part to We Wish You A Merry Christmas).
But you didn’t ask about any of that.
Instead I’ll tell you about 3 exciting updates on the wild and innocent world of Leafology.
May I present:
My friend has the ability to remember every detail of who ate what at which restaurant in which year; whether they liked it, who served us, who rode home in which car, which couple had a fight… I am continually amazed by her (and grateful, since she is the group’s keeper of history in technicolour detail) – it is dazzling!
When it comes to me, well, I’ve dabbled in useful/useless skill sets, but one thing is clear: I’ve always had a super-sensitive nose. Sometimes more of a curse than a blessing, I have fun with it anyway and I am realising now how much this sense of mine has begun to lead my life in new directions.
The sense of smell is deeply, deeply powerful; a host of both memory and small pleasures.
Dating sites are filled with flowery-dreamy ‘like’ lists which start so often with ‘I like how the grass smells after rain’. And clichés abound around wood-fires and salty sea air…