New marriages are fragile things. In our first few years of being married, Colin one day asked me: Why is it that I do everything wrong? This was because of a discussion around something trivial like the correct way to hang a toilet roll. No, Colin, I said. You are not doing it wrong; you are just doing things less right. It is one of those phrases that became a mantra for us. We do not always do things wrong; we just get it less right.

The internationally accepted calendar is the Georgian Calendar. It was introduced in 1582 by Pope Gregory XIII. This calendar came about because a chap called Julian had his own calendar that he got less right. Julian – whoever he was, forgot to allow leeway for leap years and thereby messed up by .0003 seconds. I think. It is complicated. Either way, no matter how we look at it, our calendar is messed up. In real time, weekdays are too long, and weekend days are too short. Public Holidays are even shorter. And the days between one pay day to the next, often takes a long detour into another galaxy where occasionally it disappears into a black hole.

I guess it is that time of the year.

As much as we welcomed 2024 with open arms, we are now done with it. We want it to end, because we know that 2025 with all its promise of prosperity is waiting in the wings. The phrase “lest we forget” is a symbol to remind us of the reality of war. I wonder, had a time traveller from 1914 landed in 2024, what would he say to the world. I do not want to turn melancholy, but we all know what happened in 1914, and where our world is right this moment, maybe we did forget. I hope I am wrong, and not just less right.

This brings me something I got less right in the week.

Oldest Son sent me a massage earlier this week. It came with a link to a song. The message said: is this the Lollipop song we always sang? Below that was a link to Apple Music which took me to a song that left me with a bit of a twitch down my left eye and a quiver in my right hand. I suppose he did warn me, as the message also included: I think it (the cover of the song) is a bit more recent. You know me. I do not spook easily, so I listened more intently, hoping for that hint of a word or a phrase that will jolt my musical memory. And there it was. Somewhere amongst the barbed wire and muddy trenches, the word: Lollipop. But that was about all of the original song I could pick out.

I noticed though, that the artist is Mika. Now that name rings a bell. So, I looked him up. Now, for somebody that managed to turn My Boy Lollipop into the Nightmare on Elm Street of songs, Mika was born with a very fancy name. Michael Holbrook Penniman sounds like somebody who should be at Eaton eating Eaton Mess, and not be butchering Lollipop songs. Besides his fancy name, it turns out that this young person had done and achieved much. Well, you could have fooled me. I always thought he was just a one hit wonder with his 2007 song titled Grace Kelly. Well now never. Turns out I was less right.

Evidently, getting things less right runs in our family. Our Oldest Son & Wifey has (or rather had,) a resident squirrel in their garden. Truffle loves to hate that squirrel and spends doggy hours trying to outwit said squirrel. Oh, the frustration of trying to catch it borders on the frustration of getting a calendar wrong by a nano second and having to live with the shame of it until the end of days. I am sure Truffle prided herself on her patience and resolve. Then, along came Domino, and in a moment, he caught the squirrel and to add insult to injury, ate all of it right under Truffles little wet nose. A moment of spiteful pleasure came back to haunt Domino. Not only did the squirrel give him a serious case of hairball, but his horrified humans decided that this calls for serious action. It involved deworming which is something Domino would rather not have me writing about. There is just no dignity in what followed. With hindsight, Domino perhaps feels that he was less right. Lest he not forget.

So, to make up for all my wrongs, I am planning on a few rights. I am planning to stay out of the shops during the silly season. I am hoping that I can resist fruit cake and mince pies. I will work on my patience as I sit in holiday traffic and count my blessings that I live in a holiday town filled with holidaymakers boosting the local economy. I will sleep soundly knowing that despite getting things less right, Colin’s perseverance matched Truffle’s noble efforts. And when I wake up, I will resist reading the news. At least for the rest of this year.

PS, the handsome chap in the photo? I was picking mint when I almost got more than what I bargained for!