living this close to the water this close to christmas has meant that most nights at least one party boat sails past my window. they are ferry-sized boats, lit up all twinkly, and they spew music across the harbour like those hotted-up cars that pull up next to you at the traffic lights, and the windows are down because the person inside, they love this music so much they want to share it with the world, dum-cha, dum-cha, dum!

in the last week i have been serenaded by michael jackson (“billy jean”), barnsey (“working class man”) and guns ‘n’ roses (“sweet child of mine”, which really does take me away to a special place every time i hear it). last night i heard a great whoop blow in across the water, and when i looked out the window i saw that it was two party boats passing each other, and the drunken revellers were just exchanging hellos. the whoop went on and on, nothing, i suspect, like what the people in the olden days might have imagined when they gave us “passing like ships in the night”.

but tonight, xmas eve, all is quiet. i’ve eaten two bowls of rice and cauliflower, cabbage, eggplant and mince hotpot, drunk a glass of festive pink punch made up of half pink grapfruit juice and half solo, watched the gilmore girls and done a large amount of dishes. now here i sit with a cup of genmaicha and a chocolate covered marzipan bar. it is unlikely i’ll finish it; perhaps i’ll leave it out for santa.

ding dong merrily!