December for the Tao of Tash; 22 Radiotherapy sessions over,1 to go

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22 scheduled and 21 down.

You join us on the eve of Tash's last radio' treatment. Whilst it has been easy for me, distressing yes, but physically enduring, not really, Tash on the other hand has behaved like a champion. You would have gathered by now that the girl works an alternate shift pattern; one week starts at 06:30 and ends at 14:00, the other starts at 11:00 and ends in the evening at 19:00, Tash has been fitting her daily appointments in around this. With this being London, where no journey is easy or quick, this has often meant that she has started work in the morning and not got home until five or six, likewise when she is on lates, leaves before eight, and gets home after seven. Some of the more heartless among you might be exclaiming "bah humbug!" (for it is the holiday season), "I always work twelve hour days" and whilst this maybe the case, shame on you for even thinking it!. Let us not forget that the Radiotherapy treatment comes with a little sting in the tail, she has been very fatigued. If I was working, then we both agree that she would have been home for most of this, but, it seems, that this festive Yuletide has one more Tiny Tim in the shape of my career.

You do what you can, mostly in the shape of cooking and errand running, but we both know that it is not enough, so are just surviving. Three of the four weekends have been spent in the 'Tash Tornado' - She is just concerned with getting through the week, so come the weekend has a large list of things to do, however, she is so tired that;

A. Tash is incapable of making any decisions, so our day starts;

would you like a cup of tea, the apple of my eye

I don't know, do you

yes I do, that's why I am asking you, my peachy pops

hmmm (there is usually a 2 minute pause here, whilst the decision making process is restarted and during it I either stand there motionless - if I can see this interlude coming I often sit down before replying to the first question as I foolishly initially entered this "dark time of indecision" whilst "busting" a flamingo on one leg move (why?, because I could!), a difficult pose to maintain for such a length of time I found out - or if I feel like really trying my luck I will go about doing something else, but it is a risky option as Tash is easily distracted as well.)

well?

what?

Tea?

What are you having?

Green tea as usual, what do you want?

no, I don't want green tea

eh, I didn't ask you that, do you want a cup of tea, a cup of normal tea?

I don't know....

By Saturday afternoon of the second weekend, I had to issue a relationship fatwah as it was too much.

This has also been combined with;

B. Tash has such a list of things to do that she thinks that she has to do all of them, when the most realistic outcome is that she will do one and then sleep for the rest of the afternoon. I would have had more success herding cats than trying to get Tash to get to grips with her weekend-list-of-death.

This weekend was a bit different, thankfully. Pete Croft (he of the notorious Swindon Croft's ) came over for the weekend, he is the intrepid Croft, currently living in a Spanish mountain village whilst refurbishing a house there. The Crofts are a close knit family and this year is apparently the first where they will not all be together. To celebrate/commiserate this they were hosting an early Christmas dinner at the local pub. Expecting just the family we went along, but we were greeted by just about everybody who has ever been associated with the Croft's. In our life it takes up to six months to organise a handful of people to get together for a drink, so were very impressed to see 40 people turn up for this shindig.

The night was every bit as alcoholic as you might expect, there was a bit of a scene at the pub across the road after closing time, my feelings after the fact suggest that the Landlord of the pub we had been causing a ruckus in all evening saw an opportunity to get one back on the competitor across the road so off we went...... to get thrown out eventually as it turned out, Tash hadn't made it in and was doing a beautiful job of throwing her weight around outside, I have a recollection of hearing, "he is my husband, Mark, Mark, come on out her right now we are leaving", I for my part was stumbling inside unable to find my jacket. Oh the embarrassment!

The party continued back in the Crofts house kitchen, I, by that time had slipped into auto pilot and found myself silencing the kitchen so I could get them to perform for the group photo below, Tash by that time had slipped into a bottle of Disarrono with Roberta, the Italian Stallion.

In the morning, well almost afternoon by the time we got up, a fitful night punctuated frequently by Tash's need to employ 'Drink evacuation method Alpha one', fortunately after years of experience I have perfected the art of remaining half asleep to the cries of "awww I feel sick".

I had cause in the morning to I remembered that alcohol is a cruel mistress, we had to drive back into London early in the afternoon so Pete could do some Christmas shopping and I had to at least do some of it. This mountain village Pete and Lucy live in has a lot of things, as they are fond of telling us, frequently, very frequently in fact, but not good shops apparently, so he needed some consumer time. The drive back down the motorway was sedate and quiet, we had an extra passenger on the way back of almost regal status, Pete's dad, David, caught a lift with us and in so showed us that he didn't get to where he is today, the European head of the Federation of Master Builders, by waiting on cold train station platforms when there is a nice warm chauffeured car to take him to a London hotel.

Pete took the early plane home this morning, so I didn't see him, but would like to thank him publicly here for coming over. As incredibly funny, and as great companion as I might be, it was very nice to have him around to talk to Tash and provide a welcome lift to our weekend. We almost felt normal again.

We will see you next with our Christmas message.

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