A heart of ice
My fridge-freezer is dead. Long live my freezer.

It shuffled off it’s mortal evaporator coil sometime yesterday. I’m now sitting in my mould-ridden flat waiting for the repair man to arrive. I‘m not holding my breath.

Last night I did my shopping in Iceland of all places (the discount, frozen-food supermarket, not the poorly-named country). Even as I type, a freezer full of low-priced yet high-quality vegetarian microwave-able treats are slowly melting.

I know I should be using this day to tidy, scrub and wash my flat, but warm baths, a certain Emily Skinner CD and Schott’s Original Miscellany call me by name.

'Tis the season
You should pop over to visit Chain of Daisies or Kacroon's World today. It's snowing!

A Christmassy kind of guilt
I received a Christmas Card in the post today from, um, someone. It’s a really cool card, and I’m super pleased to get it, but there’s a small essay written with a silver marker-pen covering the entire card and the silver ink has bled slightly. The writing itself is very neat but small and delicate and written in what I would call running writing, although the Brits call it joined-up writing.

Frankly, the whole thing is something of a work of art but what with it being so small, and mussed and, well, silver, I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea what any of it says. And it really feels like a betrayal on my part that I’m unable to read this fantastic thing that this person has put so much time and thought into.

Oh well, nothing I can do about it except perhaps invest in a magnifying glass and console myself with the fact that on Sunday I’ll be flying off to Zurich before heading into Germany for Christmas. I’m really looking forward to visiting some of the famous German Christmas Markets.

It should be a lot of fun.

Almost giddy
Two posts in one evening! Oh my!

Actually this is less of a posting and more of a "guess where I'm going for Christmas" admin note. Yep, on Sunday morning I'm flying off to Justin and Ramona's place in Germany. I'll be there for a week. It should be fun, Justin has these big-deal plans of getting me on the slopes, skiing. I've only tried skiing once, it was in Whistler, BC and I had a pretty poor time of it. In point of fact, I recall I spent most of the time laying on my back, skis in the air, sliding head first down icy slopes.

Not so much skiing as plummeting.

That Canadian Christmas was also the last time I ate Turkey and since Turkey was the last carnivorous thing I gave up, you could say I've been a vegetarian ever since.

Anyhow, Justin assures me that Germany is just full of gentle slopes where I can make my little snow plough and fall over in peace.

So.

Have you ever bought a present for a baby? I've never done that before, but this past weekend I went shopping for a present for Ramona and Justin's Baby Selina. I had thought it would be a bizzare thing to do, but in the end it was a strangely enjoyable experience.

I feel I can reveal her present to you, because I'm pretty sure she can't read yet and I'm sure you are responsible enough not to go out of your way to ruin Christmas for a six-month old. I can trust you, right?

I got her something called a Kick Piano. The idea is that you hang it over the end of the cot and the baby kicks the soft keyboard, lights flash and the baby raises all kinds of hell with various guaranteed parent-annoying noises.

Frankly, I wish I had one my own self. I can't imagine a baby not loving it.

Melting frogs
And so he walked into the wilderness and was never heard from again...

Is this Blog dead? I think the patient is definitely on his last legs, but the doctor is afraid to make the call. The thing is, I really loved writing this thing. I loved being a member of the Blogisphere, a big community of people with a love of words and opinions to burn. Putting a few words down, having them read by other people. Smart people. And reading their words in turn. What a great way to spend a day! And days were spent. My, yes. Whole days devoted to reading, writing and making smart-arsed comments.

Sometimes the hardest thing was to to come up something to to write about. Sometimes it was harder deciding what to leave out. I think there's something wonderful about the process of producing a blog.

I really loved my blog.

And then two things happened in quick succession. I got a job and I lost my web link. I had less time to write and no way to post my words. And do you know what? The world didn't come to an end. I could hardly believe it! The Sun rose and set just like before, Women still pointed and stared and Starbucks still charged £2.75 for a Grande Caramel Machiatto.

Eventually I got my broadband connection, and a way to post again, but in a sense it was too late. The Emperor wasn't wearing any clothes and I wasn't posting any more often. I started quite a few postings, but didn't finish any of them. Letting the blog slide had become a way of life.

And so kaymc died.

Let me be honest. I killed kaymc with slipshod habits and an unhealthy caffine addiction.

But is a blog ever really dead? Can you really kill one for good? I think there's every reason to suppose that blogs are more like frogs than rabbits. You can freeze them, thaw them out and they'll go on jumping. The frog, that is, not the bunny.

Freezing bunnies is just plain cruel.

No promises this time, but come on back some time. Maybe I'll be able to thaw out this Frog's heart.