I am sitting in the back room wearing a woolly hat, several layers of fleece and a pair of fingerless gloves which my sister knitted for me. The general effect, in my mind, is the same as the one achieved by Alistair Sim in A Christmas Carol. However, I can’t find a picture which fully backs this up. Over Christmas, when I will be spending all day (all week if I can get away with it) in a nightshirt and dressing gown I will, from what I see, look more like it.
Victorian Miser Chic is likely to become my winter default look in years to come, as layers of fleece and flannelette replace profligate spending on heating. Keep looking, you may even see me depicted in various life-style magazines as a trailblazer in the New Scrooge Movement (Bah, sugar-free humbug!)
The way things are going I may well be employing an ear trumpet too. I knew I was going deaf when I found myself saying, “Stop mumbling and open your mouth. Nobody speaks properly these days!” This is a direct quote from my Dad. He started off being deaf in one ear, something he didn’t even realise until he treated himself to a stereo record deck and headphones. No, it’s not retro, it was all we had before tapes and CDs. He took the headphones back to the shop because one side didn’t work and after a little checking the shop deduced he only had one working ear.
I, at least, am going deaf in both ears equally, which is easier from a practical point of view. I have to turn the TV up louder than Julia and I complain to both her and one of my workmates about their habit of muttering to themselves. It’s very irritating for someone who is hard of hearing tom have to work with people who talk to themselves, as you feel you may be impolitely ignoring them. On the other hand, it does allow me to ignore them without feeling rude, so it has its good points too.
And that, as far as it goes, is my Sunday morning.
This is the Ambition phase. It will soon be the Breakfast phase and that will rapidly transition to Sloth, then Disappointment. Sundays are, in so many ways, a microcosm of my life.
The header photo portrays me in my glasses and beard phase. I may try a Victorian Miser Chic shot over the holiday.
There is an electronic product called “TV Ears” here. Rick uses them so we can both watch a movie without me having to put on construction quality hearing protectors.
I mut look for them. Sounds like a good idea.
I fear that the underlying cheeriness of your disposition will undermine your Alistair Sim impersonation.
I find that putting on the fingerless gloves soon brings me back to earth. Method is everything.
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The new Scrooge movement. I love it. I’ve been using an old school hot water bottle. I place it behind my back in my chair, and it not only warms me, it loosens up the lower back
Me too – I’ve been treating my neck with one and also taking one to bed. Difficult to beat a hot water bottle for comfort.
I have one with me now
I am about to fill mine and go to bed – the rituals of age . . . 🙂
I am sure you appreciate my current identification with the Scrooge image
There seems to be an inevitable journey. First I turned into my father and now I am becoming Scrooge. 🙂