The cold awakens ...

Paul McCabe
Paul McCabe

Strange this part of the year, isn’t it?

That odd time in between Christmas and New Year where nothing is happening and for some reason your drink and food-addled brain doesn’t even know what day it is.

At the time of writing I am the latest member of FFP Towers to be struck down with a cold.

In the days leading up to Christmas Kirk Wynd resembled a 19th century small pox hospital.

I was surrounded by people sneezing, sniffing and coughing, with a box of tissues on each desk de rigueur.

Hopefully mine won’t come to much - three out of the last four festive periods I’ve been poorly and this year quite frankly I could do with a break.

Going back a few days when I was still bogey-free, it was the FFP Christmas do, where a mock awards ceremony was held and I tearfully accepted the ‘Bombscare Award’ - voted as the person most likely to make a fool of themselves on a night out.

Many years of hard work and self sacrifice have gone in to be deserving of such an esteemed accolade, but in actuality on the evening itself I felt somewhat of a charlatan having taken my car.

But there was good reason for this, the following morning I was having to get up early to go to Edinburgh where I had a date with the Force.

Now I’m not a complete geek when it comes to Star Wars but I was looking forward to it and happily, I thought it lived up to the hype.

This was followed by a trip to St Andrew’s Square for ice skating with my children - the decision to take the car the previous night seemed a canny one at this point.

I didn’t fall over either, which was particularly impressive as Mrs M was raising a mug of warm cider at me from the Dark Side as we passed.