
The thing about looking back is that at some point, you know you’re going to have to end up looking forward if you want to get anywhere.
That’s why Janus has two faces. One face was to look back and remind you of the past, another to slag your mates of behind their backs. Sorry, I mean to look forward in to your future.
No self-respecting blogger (do you know any?) can leave a review of 2011 without at least trying to dovetail a thought about 2012 on to their page as well. What better way then, than to use a similar series of themes as before, this time to highlight areas in which I can mould the next three days – before I forget, regress and fall back in to my old ways. Here goes:
Health
I pause from typing to cup my moobs. They are a magnificent pair; almost conical – with thumb like, hairy nipples. I know as I cup them that they shouldn’t be there. That I should have a chest to rival David, not Davina. I know I have to do something in 2012 to resolve the Moob Crisis. Otherwise by 2025 I will have a gut that’s primary role is to support my spaniels ears.
Light exercise, what with the knackered knee, needs to be extended to the odd muscular work out. A push up or 20. Maybe a bicep curl. Nothing too strenuous, just, well, an excuse to alleviate some of that tension through working out.
Another thing I need to do is bite the bullet and to start taking regular antihistamines. I’m allergic to the dog, to dust, and as we’ve found out this week – bloody Christmas trees. I hate taking more medication than I need to (two tablets a day, every day), but as someone who is trying to get more in to food and wine, it might be a good idea to sort my sense of smell out – which due to a near permanently blocked nose – is virtually non-existent.
Life and style
That’s what they usually call the pies and booze section on newspaper websites. As if either are really a choice, rather than an everyday necessity.
I’ve spent most of what ever “Me Time” I’ve had this Christmas period, nose deep in one cook book or another. The biggest inspiration has been the effort from Jacob Kenedy of Bocca Di Lupo. It is a sumptuous feast of text and pictures, imagined for the eyes, the passions and the desires I have as a cook. I won’t cook every recipe – where on earth would I get sea snails in Leeds – but I will dream of going to the destination listed as being the source of those recipes.
A bit like how I mentioned Dom Burch in the previous entry, the ability to just quit work and travel Italy as Jacob Kenedy has done is not necessarily there for me, but there is the opportunity to do one destination – even one restaurant, like, well, his – at a time. I’m looking at the spine of the book, in between cupping and typing, and near rubbing my mental hands (as in imaginary, not on a register) at the prospect of the next dish I will cook. Buy it if you even remotely like Italian food. But understand if you do – that some of the dishes are his “twist” on a very regional position. You will find flaws if you are from that region. I, on the other hand, am from Neasden. I find, only a reason to cook.
With regards to wine and beer, I have two simple choices to make. I need to either cast my net wider or higher. By that I mean I need to try a wider range or upgrade the choices I normally make. I did that with beer in 2011 – moving out of the supermarkets and in to the independent retailers like Beer Ritz, though I still mainly stuck with what I knew – British darker beers, American Pale Ales or German/Italian Pale/Lager beers. I rarely ever trouble the Imperials, the Belgians, Barley wines or – even – readily available, commercial “bitters”. I leapt from one comfort level to the next.
It’s the same with wine. Because I mainly cook Italian food I always head straight for the Italian section. Sometimes I stray in to France or Spain, but only if there is a bargain. The New World is alien territory to me. I often state the percentage levels – preferring 11-13% over the big Aussie 14.5% reds, but then if I can’t remember the last time I bought one, how will I know if I still don’t like them?
Wine, unlike beer, is something I have stuck primarily within a comfortable pricing range. I rarely spend more than a tenner a bottle, regularly less than £6 – missing out on all the Grand Crus and Super Tuscans in the process. This year I will dip my toe in the pricier end, even if it is just for special occasion – like a Tuesday night.
I’m still going to end up drinking to excess at regular points in the year – but I know the consequences (the wrath of a good woman), so I need to make sure I’m still active the next day, when I do.
Culture and The Arts
Let’s just be plain, simple, brief and say I need to do more.
I read a tweet from Emma of The Culture Vulture that suggested she was going to introduce her child to more arts events this year. It seemed to resonate. As if I could educate myself through the premise that I was actually doing it to benefit Lauren. It’s in some way a false view, but at the same time I’ll always find a reason not to do an event – as there is always something else to do. Yeah, of course I go to the gallery in Leeds – but usually only when it’s raining.
We’ve done the local museum to death, and Lauren seemed to really enjoy herself when we went to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park – so maybe there is a cultural world out there, away from the pubs and Go, Diego, Go, that the pair of us can find enlightenment in. We might even drag Amy along (she won’t need dragging), but then I need to make sure on the one Saturday when Amy works, that I do something creative with Lauren other than get a bus to town and then – well – do the same things over again:
“What noise does a tiger make?”
“Roar”
Ad nauseum!
Work
My boss is both supportive and honest. Within six months of being in post, she made a promise that she would do everything she could over the next 12 months to get me promoted. If she couldn’t, she would say and I would have the option to start looking elsewhere. Thankfully she came through with her promise.
In October she made the same promise, but realistically, she said it would take 18 months this time. Same time frame as before, as in 18 months from new role to promotion, but there was the understanding it would be harder this time around.
If I’m brutally honest with myself, I’m not sure where I want to be in 18 months – and if a simple rise up the ladder to cover off a greater level of responsibility is really what I want. I work in project management for those that don’t know me in the real world. I’m qualified in this field, I have sufficient experience in this field – I am just tied to the idea at the moment that I have a boss I really enjoy working with. Even though I’ve spent years working in a change environment, I am – as mentioned in another post – hesitant to change; especially if it is only for money.
But the work we’ve done on the kitchen, the plans we have for our family, for our time together as a family, does make me wonder how much more we could do with a bit more money. In my current role my work is rewarded with praise, with experience gained – but could, and should I want more than that? I have the sort of boss I can talk such questions through with, but where is the point when I have to stop relying on her to create a job – and use my skills to get my own role?
2012 is definitely not about trying to find a dream job – I’m not sure what that is, but I reckon it involves me entertaining a group of holiday makers somewhere in Piedmont or Rome. Sacrifices and money need to come well before that will ever happen. This year is about rungs, on ladders, that either comes this year – or at least very early next year. Hopefully that rung will be under the same boss – not out of comfort, just genuine pleasure to work with them.
Sport
OK – let’s get this done and dusted now. Bowls is a sport. It appears on the Sport England website. That’s enough for me.
People always look surprised when I say I play bowls, even more so when I tell them I write a weekly column for the Yorkshire Evening Post – in the sports section. But then once they get over the surprise, it is then surprising how many want to know more; confess an interest to play. Not everyone. But one or two introduced a year is enough to keep the game I love alive.
This year could be a final crack, for a while being at least, of me trying to qualify for the national finals at Worthing. It’s something we bowlers hope to achieve every year, and although I’ve rarely had chance to qualify – either through work or location – this past two years I have, and I haven’t. So, if for whatever reason I’m not able to give the game my full commitment in 2013 – I need to get it done in 2012. There may even be a book in it. It might be a very short book if i get beat in the first round of everything, but who said there has to be a minimum page count in an ebook!
And for what it’s worth, my attention in the summer will be focused primarily on Poland and Ukraine rather than East London.
Friends
New, old, unknown – previously lost. I’m coming for you in 2012. I want to see more of you, to meet you for the first time; to pick up where we left off years ago. Having a child, living in Leeds, spending weekends on the road playing bowls is no longer an excuse. It’s time we hooked up, more regularly, in my manor or yours – let’s just make it happen!
Family
It could be a big year for the family. Numbers will play a big part. Both of my parents reach a big number, whilst maybe Lauren hitting three is old enough for “competition”. That’s not an admission – remember this post is only an idea; a plan. A big plan!
So that’s 2012.
What more is there to say?
Image: A set of ‘pop’ular moobs
The title is a play on the Mayan Prophecy. It is also something I will inevitably do with Lauren’s pink clothes