Greetings, Dear Reader! I hope your Twelve Days of Christmas have been delightful and that 2026 looks to be full of promise for you. Although Epiphany has passed, in this household our tree is still up, for it is Candlemas that will be the day for its packing up, so you might think we are still in the throws of the Festive Season. There has, indeed, been a little bit of this and that, but in the main it has been a fairly quiet affair this year.
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| Xmas lunch à deux |
Excepting that we did something different by flying* to the capitol of the People's Republic of Victoria on Christmas morning. There we went to a couple of fancy restaurants and slept in a fancy hotel, bookending a descent upon our dear friends' home to polish off their leftovers on Boxing Day. Short and sweet was the visit. The Barmy Army was in town for the cricket, so the hotel prices were simply outrageous, and the weather was freezing, so it almost feel like we'd gone to Ye Olde England for a couple of days!
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| Friend M's Xmas cake |
Over in Restoration England, if you're not up-to-date with the goings-on of Samuel Pepys, his last diary entry was also for Twelfth Day[-ish]. Amongst the outings of his busy last day of Christmas, he and wife Elizabeth went to a playhouse and saw Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night". It was "acted well, though it be but a silly play and not related at all to the name or day."** He confided to his diary on this otherwise pleasant and busy last day of Christmas, being "somewhat vexed" that his wife left her bundle of pricey clothes she'd been toting in the coach on the way home, "though, I confess," he adds, "she did give them to me to look after, yet it was her fault not to see that I did take them out of the coach." Cough. Anyways, he promises that Christmas now done, his resolutions of less carousing and plays and more hard work and making money, are in full swing as from tomorrow.
Are there any resolutions coming from Your Correspondent in response to Mr. Pepys fine promises? Not really. Just a bit more time needs carving out for Ye Olde Blogge ... Off to a cracking start, methinks! So what were some highlights of the year past?
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| In my orthodontist's 'hood |
On a whim, ol' Pipistrello decided to start some orthodontic work a few months ago and in a couple of years the gnashers should be looking a tad less uncoventional, shall we say. I was surprised to learn that you don't have to be a whipper-snapper to do such things, and your teeth won't fall straight out of your head if you try to move them around in an ageing jaw. Indeed, the charming orthodontist is also doing her mum's teeth at the same time, and she's in her 70's!
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| A still Melboure dawn |
In the Dancing Department, it had been a corker of a year, until it wasn't :( Last January saw me off to the capitol of the People's Republic of Victoria to take part in my first intensive workshop with a famous ballet teacher visiting from the U.K. It was as satisfying & gruelling as expected and I went through an entire box of Epsom bath salts and a tube of embrocation during my stay! But, amongst it all, I did enjoy the sight of hot-air balloons drifting over the cityscape at sunrise from my window.
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| I shall not see a link between 40 dance classes in a month and a bit of, ahem, wear & tear |
Fast forward a few months and my Dance Card was positively chockers, viz. see above. Then, disastro! in May and an old pre-ballet hip injury flared up which saw everything crash to a halt and then the calendar was drearily marked for doctor-MRI-physio-physio-physio-Pilates ad nauseum, until the green light was given to ease back into dance classes. Of course, after a few months of being good and cautious about pushing things, I did go and get a bit carried away just before Christmas and have had a bit of a setback. The days are again filled with physio-physio-physio but things are looking better for stepping back soon into the studio.
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| Mr. P's paw pre-surgery |
It had also been a bit of a shocker of a year in the life of the Pipistrello colony, with the associated dislocation, relocation and emotional roller-coasting that attends the passing of an older member. And Mr. P had his own brush with disaster in an encounter with a staircase determined to come off the better. We are still here, thankfully, a bit banged up in the chassis compared to this time last year, but still running! And there were some lovely times to be had with family, friends, books, music and the rest. So 2025 was a mixed bag all up. Now, let us see what comes ...
* And was somewhat disappointed that the be-antlered Qantas hosties did not offer up a mince pie as comestible, as I thought they might.
** He had seen it once before, as a "new play", but couldn't enjoy it then as he'd snuck in with a friend after chancing upon it on a walk and was in the guilts over having sworn to his wife he wouldn't go to a play without her.
