#atinylife muddle-through

Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow…

My sister Becky quoted this line (on Zoom, of course. Where else do we talk these days?) as ‘very Christmas 2020.’

Some of us muddled-through before this year: I myself started muddling-through around 2004.

The festive season can become rigid: we always go to this house, we always eat this meal with these people, we watch this film, listen to this music. I’m so sorry if your set pieces are not possible this year.

Maybe we can use this time to think about our Christmas days. Perhaps we’ll go back to our set pieces next year, joyfully. Perhaps we’ll make new traditions that serve us better.

Meanwhile, as an official muddle-representative, I would like to extend a warm welcome to all new muddlers, est. 2020.

tinylife will be back on 17 January.

#atinylife bubble

Bubbles used to be such a happy word. I remember (being far too old for them, but still) blowing hundreds down the streets of St Andrews as a teenager, watching the smiles of baffled shoppers as they floated past, light on the wind and rainbow-sphered.

Later, it was all about how terrible it is to be in our very own social media bubbles, our echo chambers. I’ve always been a big fan of them, myself. I feel no need to emerge from my social media comfort zone and listen to the views of people who say my children don’t exist.

Now it’s bubbles again for Christmas: three families for five days. Who gets to be in your bubble? Who needs to be kept outside for their own safety?

I never thought of a bubble as something with a lock.

#atinylife CovidCarols

Happy Covid Christmas Carols

In the bleak mid-winter, I just want to moan –

Tomorrow shall be my dancing day: when this is all over I’m out every night

O little town of tie-e-e-er 4: who knows when shops will open?

While shepherds watched their flocks by night, all stood two metres apart

I saw three ships come sailing in, with PPE, with PPE

O Come all ye faithful, recorded services on-ly, (no-o-o-o-o-o-o singing allowed).

Good King Wenceslas looked out, he was quarantine-ed.

See amid the winter’s snow, facemask dropped in gutter low

Ding dong merrily on high, I got Tesco deliv’ry!

Away in a manger, already dressed for bed

Deck the halls with ‘I’m not listening’ lalalalalalalalala

Silent night, no one is out, pubs are shut, this is … really very annoying…

Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the three-family-bubble!