So many people I know right now are right on the edge of drowning in stuff. You know about my struggles with the accumulation. I’m in a stuff-out phase of necessity because stuff-in right now is barely possible. Any chance for me to give you a thing, I’ll take it. “You like it! Have it! Sure. No problems.”
Christmas Carol is cancelled. Kirkaldy is delayed. Suddenly I’ve gone from knowing what is happening until the end of the year to knowing that I’m gonna run off the edge of the cliff with my legs still going. The solution? Chipping away at the stuffmountain.
Things I haven’t done: Sorted out the spare room. Sorted the costumes properly. Got all the ridiculous knickknackerie gone and gone and gone from my home never to return. Organised my life. Made a proper list. Worked out what to prioritise. Stopped for a moment. More.
Brain and I are doing our pick-up Christmas again, in my flat. Something for me to build towards.
This is meant to be a solution. I used to be lonely at Christmas. I used to feel it was an imposition to join a family unit that wasn’t mine, and my family unit was mostly dead or self-determined. I would go to friends and it would be lovely but it sometimes felt like I was the charity case. So I decided to try to make a world where there was a great big party and you were invited and you were the one bringing Christmas. My friends have been my extended family for decades.
You weren’t coming to my curated Christmas back then, as now. You weren’t being served last and being watched when you reached for the bottle. The rules of the day were yours not mine, as were the timings. And it was lovely and it was mad and people fucking flew over from America! Tasmania! And then Brian happened and it got bigger and brighter and foodier. Now it might be a huge party and it might just be a few people, but as ever we are gonna try to welcome those who are stuck without options and who don’t want to inconvenience anyone or be the fifth wheel. Brian and I want to welcome you. We usually ask that you bring something that means Christmas for you. But yeah, if you’re stuck or know someone who might be, drop us a line. We’ve made good friends over the years from this. It can be a bit of light in the darkness. And God love Brian… I think I’d have been too tired to do it some years and he is a burning candle.
For it to work I need to move an ocean of stuff from my flat to the world between now and then. I have the will. I have the car. Bring it.
Today it was three loads of Bergman, up three flights of stairs in Dalston. I’m knackered. I’ll be walking like an old man tomorrow. I’m gonna go get horizonal.