So here we are at the start of another new year. Christmas, as always, vanishes in the blink of an eye. All that shopping and running around and stress and more shopping and even more stress. Did Santa bring you everything you asked for? There were whoops of joy when Miss Alison woke to discover the boxed set of Northern Exposure, Arcade Fire’s CD and Delia Falconer’s “Sydney” under the Christmas Tree. Film, music and words – what more could a girl desire? Did I hear you say Viggo?? Well I was an appallingly good girl in 2010, so I know Santa’s given me The Perfect Man. He’s just hidden him, is all.
Hope your Christmas was lovely and without incident – although in some homes it ain’t Christmas until Aunty Beryl drinks one sherry too many and falls asleep on the couch, or until Cousin Ben gets a verbal whack over the head from Grandpa. There is a beautiful passage in Isabelle that I found the other day.
“When you talk about love, and family, invariably too you are talking about compassion. This would include the notion that we are all just lumped together, and tolerance is a virtue. What passes relentlessly through the years is blood, and time; all bitterness or warmth along the way is almost incidental. Even blood gets forgotten eventually, bleached into stories which are bleached into myth which are bleached of all colour into ashes of myth.”
Luke Davies, Isabelle the Navigator