Monday 5 January 2009

new year blues...

2009 is a few days old now and already my attempts at looking the new year straight in the eye and tackling it head on with vigour, optimism and a long list of 'to does..' has fallen by the wayside or at least hit the doldrums.

it started so well.

i have a brand new burnished leather year planner, a birthday gift that ive been itching to start popping into my bag for jotting down notes whilst enjoying tea and scones in boffin hq (museum cafe) or cappucino and norlander toast in boffin central (oklahoma), and plenty of christmas books to read in cosy corners of the city, warming hot chocolate in hand, such as cornerhouse, waterstones or blackwells. plenty in short to while away the cold snap of winter in style and offer inspiration for my own humble ambitions...

but instead books lie neglected, new journal remains untouched, favourite haunts unvisited, as i mope and grumble into the new year. even the flurry of snow last night failed to thrill me, as i ran onto the landing and leaned onto the motorway parapet, the better to immerse myself in the brief midnight snowglobe effect. all these things merely heighten my new year blues.

the observant among you might recall in past postings mention of my oldest friend, dearest confidente, and comrade in books and outings, bibliophile and assyrian scholar mister benjamin horatio stillingfleet. a few of you may even remember his part in my edwardian adventures. it was he, dear reader, who came to my rescue in the case of the cult of the assassins, bundling me homeward in a packing case bound for the british museum, it was he who gave his expertise and assistance in my postgraduate studies at girton, it was he who accompanied me in my archaeological campaigns and adventures and yes, it was he who was the alleged ferguson in the ferguson gang's legendary exploits. in short he has been my right arm, my trusty sidekick and stalwart companion in countless adventures these past 100 years or more and 2008 has been no different.

new years eve we spent as always with a short meander through brunswick to boffin hq for coffee and a peruse of the morning papers in companionable silence, occasionally pointing out the odd snippet of news or comparing some nonsense or other, before deciding on the days itinerary and planning future expeditions. later on we met up with bertie for tea, the two of them enjoying their perennial squabble over the crossword.

midnight found us sharing a balcony view over the city as firework displays illuminated the skies into a urban meteorite storm as grand as any aurora borealis. only then did the blasted stillingfleet unveil his plans for 2009.


so here i am 5 days into this fledgling year and 5 long days without my stillingfleet who true to his word has retreated deep into the diaries and itinerary of Roumeli: Travels in Northern Greece by Patrick Leigh Fermor. i wish him well on his voyage of discovery and intellectual retreat but am somewhat at a loss without him and feel his absence acutely. my travels across the city will be the duller without him and so i fear will be the pages of this diary.

au revoir mon ami. a bientot...

postscript. this evening a mysterious package arrived at the door. it contained a rare and handbound copy of dust, a treasure of historigraphy that i have been pursuing eagerly for some time, with a familiar inscription from my old friend; plus a handbook of paper aviation for bertie! my spirits revived, i determine not to let him down in his absence. i open the flyleaf and begin....

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