4th January 2008

As is traditional at the start of a new year, friends and family gathered together to celebrate. This year, we attended a party at a friend, Jeremy Brown’s, house in town. It turned out to be a comfortable, relaxed, and laid-back affair. Unfortunately, guests were rather thin on the ground, as winter flu had swept through the area like a Viking raid; six couples phoned to say they were too unwell to attend. The virus was running rampant, and Market Harborough was not spared.

Still, enough people remained upright to make the evening pleasant, and with a reduced guest list, there was the bonus of more snacks to go around. As I’d only had a light lunch and skipped tea, the extra savouries were most welcome. I considered it medicinal.

Charlotte and Lucas departed after New Year’s Day, and although their leaving was a bit of a wrench, it marked the end of our festive family gathering. Life at Willow Bank immediately became quieter and far less hectic.

That evening, we invited Roger Woolnough over to watch Quantum of Solace on the big screen. All was going swimmingly until I attempted to connect the projector to our brand-new television. Picture? Yes. Sound? Not a peep.

Forty frustrating minutes later, after swapping leads, muttering under my breath, and crawling behind furniture, I admitted defeat. We gave up and watched the film on TV instead. Rather annoyingly, the following morning, I discovered, after finally reading the manual, that all I needed to do was press one button on the remote. One button. Naturally, it was labelled in a cryptic manner that only television engineers or teenage children would understand.

Still, despite the smaller screen and bruised ego, the film was actually quite good, for once, a reasonably believable Bond.

Later in the week, we had Jim and Brigitte Hankers round for a glass of wine and to look at their holiday snaps from Christmas in Gran Canaria. They brought their camera, and I optimistically tried to connect it to the television to display a slideshow. This had worked well with our previous telly. Not this time.

Once again, cable chaos ensued. Buttons were pressed, ports swapped, and hopes dashed. In the end, we gave up and agreed to try again another evening, once I had, you guessed it, read the manual properly. Honestly, does anyone read instructions when getting new technology?

Midway through the technological carnage, Jamie arrived with a new girlfriend. Sue, ever the hostess, smiled warmly and said, “Oh, hello, Harriet, it’s nice to see you again.” From the study, where I’d just been introduced to the girl as Harley, I had to stifle a laugh.

I couldn’t resist strolling in and correcting the slip. It turned out I’d taught Harley some years back, though I doubt Sue took much comfort in that. In her defence, Harley and Harriet did have similar hair… but even so, a trip to Specsavers may well be in order.