Well, happy new year, horse people!
Today being the first day of a brand new year, it’s a perfect opportunity to reflect back on the last 12 months and to look forward to the year ahead and think about how you can make it the best yet and make yourself better in every… blah blah blah blah.
So, do I have any equine new year’s resolutions? Maybe learn to ride a nag myself or buy the CCs the lorry they so desperately want? Do I fuck. My plan is to try and get through the year without taking out a loan or re-mortgaging and, quite frankly, if I get through another year *without* buying a lorry I’ll consider it a pretty successful year.
I am planning to give up booze for January though, as sad and faddish as that sounds. But it’s for practical reasons: my monthly wine bill has got so large that I need a drink just to be able to cope with paying it, and January is always a tight month of course, so it should free up some funds for more mundane things like electricity and food. And nag hotels bills.
CC2 looks at me very disapprovingly every time I open a bottle and has got into the habit of asking how much it costs. When I tell her, she converts it into fractions of a new numbnut and looks aghast. “Bbbbut! That’s a fifth of a numbnut! You could not drink five bottles and buy me a brand new numbnut in Husky Snow Yellow from the new 2019 Winter Collection!”
In her mind, everything of value is measured in numbnuts. It ought to be introduced as a new official currency in the equine world — maybe shown as a capital ’N’ with a horseshoe shape over it. What’ll it be worth, about 40 quid? We’d need the equivalent of pence as well of course, something worth a hundredth of that — probably grains of special nag salt. There, sorted. A bottle of wine costs about 20 grains and a whole case is about 2 numbnuts 40, or N2.40g. You’ll have to just add the little horseshoe shape on the ’N’ in your own minds, my keyboard can’t do it. Yet.
I suppose giving up wine for a bit can only help my general well-being too, as well as my waistline. As the old saying goes, I’d do anything to regain my youthful fitness and physique, apart from eat healthily, drink less or exercise. It’s not that I’m particularly fat, you understand, but when I stop walking and come to a standstill it takes longer than it probably should for bits of me to stop moving, and not in a good way.
I only tell you all this so you’ll understand if I’m particularly grumpy for the next few weeks, especially on the weekends. Though it’s entirely likely I’ll fail anyway, probably by Friday. But I’ll just lie to you, you can’t prove anything.
But seriously folks, (laughter dies down to silence, face becomes furrowed and serious), I would like to wish you all a very happy new year, and I hope that you achieve everything you want — unless you’re CC1 or CC2 and then we’ll have to negotiate. May you never run out of salt, may your 20m circles be really really round and may your beloved nag not bite, kick or throw you.
Oh, and if you need to track the new year in any way, then I still have calendars for sale! I’m not going to admit that I over-ordered, but let’s just say that the guest bedroom can’t be used still. They’re only 1/365th less useful than they were last week. And they’re the bargain price of 20 grains!
Cheers! *raises glass of dull, dull water*