and I was like, “what is that? Velvet?! Surely not. I couldn’t believe it, it
was soft and luxurious, like nothing I had ever experienced before. I couldn’t
wait. The big moment had came, I rolled out of bed ran to the shower then out
again and headed for my cupboard where I was storing this heaven sent item, I
clutched it in my hand, being as gentle as possible, wanting to not damage it’s perfection. It felt even better; like cashmere this time. The moment of truth, would it work? Would my life change? I paused for a moment and thought. “Life Is Not Measured By the Number of Breaths We Take, But By the Moments That Take Our Breath Away” and this was definitely it. All my life I had been dedicated and loyal to Calvin Klein wearing them had become inveterate. But for some reason or another the mysterious, ocean blue eyes of David Gandy had caused me to buy, without thought his new underwear collection. I did it, and didn’t look back I wave of insouciance came over me, I was on top of the world.
In London, Emma writes a wedding column in a newspaper and nurtures an unrequited love for her colleague Jasper Bloom. Near Christmas, she is informed that Jasper is engaged to marry another colleague, and her life turns upside down. In Los Angeles, the movie-trailers maker Kerry has just split with her unfaithful boyfriend Ethan and wants to forget him. Through a house exchange website, Emma impulsively swaps her mansion for Kerry’s cottage in Surrey for the holidays. While in Surrey, Emma meets Kerry’s brother and book editor Graham and they fall in love with each other. Meanwhile, Emma meets her new next door neighbor the ninety year old screenplay writer Arthur, who helps her retrieve her self-esteem, and the film composer Miles, with whom she falls in love.
Jodie thinks to herself
If anyone needs me this Christmas I’ll be staying at Paula and Laurence’s hotel, motel, holiday-inn. Merry Christmas and happy new year!
The sun streamed through the open window, causing the shadows from the cascading voiles to dance across the wooden floor, the smell of coffee wafted across the hallway,into the room, I reluctantly anticipated the fierce shrill of the alarm would fracture the silence any moment and I willed my eyes to stay closed and my mind to drift back off to the warm slumber that I had so recently emerged from. I turned over and then it hit me, no alarm today , or tomorrow for that matter, it was the holiday, six long glorious weeks of holiday to savour, no early mornings, and late nights, just 42 wonderful days of endless sunshine and eager anticipation. What to do? I eagerly leapt out of bed, grabbed my towel and headed for the shower. Another dawn another day…….let the holiday commence.
It was a all dream… my teacher told me was the worst possible way to end a creative story…..
I never did care much for what she had to say… I used to read Word Up magazine,
Salt’n’Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine was much more entertaining to me.
I would day dream alot in that class of hers… I recall Hangin’ pictures on my wall, during the holidays every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl.
I would let my cassette tape rock over n over songs on repeat, sometimes having to rewind them with a pencil to save on batteries, until one day my tape popped.
She would catch me in my daydreams sometimes, “mr Findlow! Get ur head out of the clouds. Where are you today!?”
I was quite cheeky, so I replied,
Smokin’ weed and bamboo, sippin’ on private stock,! (Lol!)
I always sat Way back in the class to try and avoid those situations, when I had the red and black lumberjack, With the hat to match. I Remember blurting out “Duke, duh-ha, duh-ha
You never thought that hip hop would take it this far..” One of those awkward moments like when ur on a plane with ur head phones on too loud…
Oh bother, now I’m in the limelight cause I think i rhyme tight..
If only it was time to get paid like Fred flintsone when he hears the hooter sound off for work, and im out skate down the back of a dinosaur.. Yabadabadoo! But no… not this time instead my teacher is blowing up like the World Trade,
“You are a Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
at this rate you’lI be a bum eating nothing but sardines for dinner!”
“I’m blowin’ up like you thought I would.. I’m calling your mother this time..”
Never one to not have the last word I said.
“Call the crib, same number same hood
It’s all good
and if you don’t know, now you know.
There are plenty of strange phenomenon in the world, things that take much more than a moment’s contemplation to fully appreciate their absurdity. Holidays are one such thing. Story telling another.
In 1865, a renowned Shakespearean actor and theatre-maker, Edwin Booth, saved a young man from being hit by a ninety-four ton, 2-8-2 Mikado Locomotive steam engine at the Glen Ridge train station in Jersey City by pulling him from the tracks and out of the way of the oncoming juggernaut. His actions were rightly recognised as an act of heroism; it just so happened by a remarkable coincidence that Robert Todd Lincoln – for that was the name of the man Booth had rescued – had been saved by a man famous across Europe for his portrayal of Hamlet the Dane. What distinguishes the tale as more than just a story of heroism is its sad irony: for the heroic figure of Edwin Thomas Booth was also the elder brother of John Wilkes Booth, the man who would assassinate US President Abraham Lincoln later that same year; and the very fortunate young man, whose life the elder Booth had saved, was none other than the President’s son, Robert Todd Lincoln.
The unknown absurdity of the world is continually served poetic justice by the observation of festive holidays. President Lincoln never sent out Christmas cards, nor did he ever allow a Christmas tree to stand in the hallways of the White House during his term of office. Quite understandably, when one considers the political distress the president would’ve precipitated should he have been seen to have encouraged a seemingly frivolous and prodigious European tradition during what was the bloodiest conflict ever known in the short history of the American nation. By December 1864, over half a million men had died as a result of the war which would eventually lead to the congressional ratification of the thirteenth constitutional amendment (that outlawed slavery) before Christmas 1865.
Moreover, and above all else; in the sad legacy of Mr. Lincoln’s life, his message of freedom and equal opportunity, and belief in the fraternity of mankind in the unity of people is what is remembered. In the spirit of regeneration, so greatly associated with the Judeo-Christo-Pagan festivals, Mr. Lincoln said in his Inauguration Speech on 4th March, 1865:
‘With malice toward none; with charity for all […] let us strive to finish the work we are in […] to do all which may achieve and cherish a just, and a lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.’
He was murdered by Booth while at the theatre with his wife, Mary Todd, only five days after the surrender of the Confederate forces. His headstone reads: ‘Now he belongs to the ages.’
And so ends my catechism.
The word “holiday” evokes so many memories of when we first moved to Australia from those fun trips to Noosa on the sunshine coast and staying close to the beach enjoying another magical, carefree, endless summer, or our first “holiday” to Bali and loving the friendliness off the people and wandering the streets as we tiptoed through the daily offerings! But for one sad soul the word “holiday” meant only one thing…..doom, gloom and endless days of anxiety and bewilderment. From the moment the suitcases appeared and the realisation that YES we were going on “holiday” to errrh..… NO it was not going to be with the same excitement, enthusiasm or even the same destination as everyone else’s journey! But from that moment life as we knew it would change forever….. meaning that every time you turned around four paws would appear just a few steps behind you! Trying to reassure him and pretend that we were really only going for a car ride, but with no affect, he never bounded towards the car or hopped in effortlessly because his legs were too busy shaking uncontrollably! his tongue would be lolling out of the side of his mouth as he drooled incessantly, and whatever calming words you whispered to him on the drive to his “holiday” there was absolutely no way he was going to lay down and enjoy the ride….images of other dogs would spring to mind with their heads hanging out the window and ears flapping in the breeze as they enjoyed the moment! Oh no…..he knew his destination alright and this ain’t going to be any “holiday” or a walk in the park just a bunch of whining, barking dogs wanting to jump all over you and sniff your butt, with not a basket to lay down on or a sausage roll in sight! Yep you got it the word “holiday” and RAMBO should never have been said in the same sentence…..Long may he be gone but never forgotten….have a happy “holiday” everybody and love to all….woof woof!
Head down she set off across the wind swept field battling the elements, the wind forcing her back with each step, she had to reach her destination. It was holiday time and there was no one around to point her in the right direction.
As the afternoon turned into evening, the shadows grew longer. Soon he/she would be covered in darkness. His/her hunger pangs where shouting at him/her demanding food, and his/her limbs grew tired and weary. He/she had to stop, his/her body would go no further. Night sounds were growing around him/her and with it fear closed in, threatening to rip him/her apart like a pack of hungry wolves. As the shadow turned to darkness, he felt panic rise from within, he/she stumbled around in a vain attempt to find shelter. As he/she searched the darkness, he/she caught his/her foot under a concealed tree branch, falling face first into the dirt. As he/she raised himself/herself to his/her feet, spitting chunks of soil and debris from his/her mouth, he/she noticed a large cut on his/her forehead oozing a steady stream of blood over his/her cheek. As fear gave way to despair and hopelessness he/she thought to himself/herself, “some holiday this turned out to be, next time I’m going to Disney Land.”
Holiday yes what is a holiday, well it can be packing a bag, walking to the end of the road getting on a bus, going some where you have never been before and going to see all the sites of this new place…
It can be sitting in the sunshine in your back garden relaxing in the sun. The best Holiday would be getting together with family in a place called Bali enjoying time together..
Happy Holidays, Family love to all!!!
It was our favourite holiday of the year: Christmas. For dinner we had a chicken, mashed potatoes and peas and green beans. Then we had dessert and got our PJs on. And then: “Knock knock.” “Who’s there?” “A chicken.” “A chicken who?” “Chicken I fell asleep eating a chicken.” And then we made some jokes and went to bed.
But then the farmer brought the chicken back. Tweety Bird and a kitty cat came back too. They went in the water fountain and had a drink. They wanted to know what happened next…
At the end of the year he always seemed to find himself in some dingy, smoke filled bar staring into the bottom of a whiskey glass wondering what just happened.
They called him the Comeback Kid but he never understood why.
“I’m always making a comeback but no-one ever tells me where I’ve been,” he’d say to anyone who’d listen.
Whoever was listening was probably more drunk than he was.
The small Japanese host, in an ill-fitting black suit and dickie bow tie, forced a microphone into his hand and shouted at him to sing: “Shing like Fwank Shinatra,” he yelled in his face, “shing My Way!”
“If I’m going to sing like someone else,” he slurred, “then I don’t need to sing at all.”
A heavily made-up Geisha girl slid in front of the host and onto the sofa next to him.
Her make-up was thick and her perfume was heavy.
By the time he noticed that she was kissing him it was too late to pull away.
“You taste of money,” she whispered in perfect received pronunciation.
Slowly, he replied, his eyes locked into hers: “Well they say a kiss that is never tasted is forever wasted.”
She was giggling politely in response to his reply when her previous conquest, now a huge green-eyed monster, pulled her away from him.
Grabbing her, viciously, around her tiny waist he threw her across the dancefloor letting out a furious, jealous roar.
Her spinning, tiny body took the legs from under several dancing couples who fell like pins in a bowling alley.
By the time the jilted drunk turned and approached him, cupping a cut-throat razor in his hand, the Geisha had already back-flipped her way into the middle of the dance floor and fired her Remington derringer with an earsplitting crack.
The .41 Short calibre bullet was so slow that, from the safety of the sofa, he could watch it leave the bottom barrel of the gun, chase after the flash of light and cut through the belch of smoke, all the way into the floor which splintered between the aggressor’s feet.
The monster froze; turned slowly and started to walk towards her raising the blade.
She cocked the second barrel and waited, coolly, for him to realise that, at this range, she would probably kill him.
‘Green eyes’ pocketed the blade and melted away across the bar and out into the night air.
“Thank you,” he said as she slid onto the sofa next to him again.
“My pleasure,” she purred.
“Why didn’t you just kill him?” he asked.
“Because sometimes it’s worse to win a fight than to lose it.”
“Who told you that?”
“Yeah. She used to work here.”
Once upon a time.. and by that I mean once a time of year… Our family tradition of a diary did not 100% work out as half the family is not so full of HOLIDAY spirit and half the family is.. So instead of filling up the diary with a day in the life we were asked to fill the diary with some HOLIDAY cheer.. However in order to do this we were to write a short HOLIDAY tale using the word HOLIDAY… Unfortunately in order to do this you need some HOLIDAY creativity and that is something this HOLIDAY Gal is lacking… So instead of writing a short story I would just like to wish everyone on this wonderful HOLIDAY day.. A Very Merry HOLIDAY Christmas and a Happy HOLIDAY New Years!!!!!! Love.xx Nicola and Jamie (However I would like to just note that Jamie had nothing to do with this story, his suggestion was to write about a Solider and since he wasn’t part of the list I X’d his idea )
I am often accused of taking “too many holidays” which I think is an oxy-moron – how is it possible to have too many?
I think of them as little adventures and I have had a few underwater ones this year starting with the wonderful manatees of the Crystal River in Florida in February, then diving the remote island of Atauro in East Timor in April and the incredible reefs of Raja Ampat in November. I also did two “road trips” to the roof of the world – one on the Chinese side for 5 days on the Tibetan Plateau and another in the Indian Himalayas for two weeks on a “Proudly Made in India” Royal Enfield motorcycle…
But the best one was the boxing training in Tokyo with Callum. I tried to train hard for the two weeks but was still unprepared for the intensity of boxing when it really hit me and was quickly “gassed” – which is the terminology used in the ring when you run out of energy and are about to get pounded in to a pulp. For me getting gassed was a sign that a heart attack was fairly imminent, but I put on a brave face (not easy to do with a mouth guard in) and tried to get going again!
I had no trouble sleeping in Japan…. in fact I seemed to enter a coma most nights and wake up in the morning in exactly the same spot from the night before, but strangely unable to move.
Going on a trip like this with your grown up son, some 15 or so years since we last went away together was an interesting experience. It turned out to be akin to being with your best mate who is also a younger, fitter, hairier and more handsome version of yourself…. I spent many hours following Callum (or Subway-san as he became in my head…) around the vast Tokyo underground as he made his way around at lightning speed as we changed stations and criss-crossed the city. I was worried at first that we would get separated and I would never see him again till I realized that 99% of the millions of other fellow travellers were about 6 inches shorter than Callum and his distinctive “fade” haircut was like a beacon in the night for me to follow!
Japan is a great country. Been there many times but always on business and it was brilliant to discover the many things I had missed on previous trips!
For him, it had always been somewhat of a chore deciding on somewhere to go on holiday, the incandescent light in the travel agents was not helping, the voice in his head said wait a minute who still uses travel agents.
Why don’t you just do it on the line, “check it, book it, pack it, Frank off”.
Easy for you he thought you are not traveling with the queen of holidaymakers, it was at that precise moment he made the decision that one day he would live on a holiday island with warm weather, exotic animals (maybe even a mongoose or two), that way he would not have to go on holiday and family could visit him.
That was the last thought in his head as he drifted off to sleep.