I Hate To Say Goodbye, But I Love To Watch You Walk Away...

Dear 2009,

Just a wee note to say goodbye. I enjoyed every last minute with you, you were the year I got my nerve back, my confidence donned a bonnet and started to dance, on the inside mostly, but dancing none the less. I had many adventures, saw so many new places and took chances, not all of it worked out how I would have liked, but what do you know, I'm still standing.

I hate to replace you, but 2010 is just around the corner, tempting me and trying to steal me away like a new best friend in the playground. But before we part, it's important to me that you know you are special, of all the years in recent memory, you are my favourite. You got me writing, travelling and taking chances again and for that, you will be forever treasured.

Mostly, you really taught me to not look back, to always look forward and so, I say adieu...

Yours sincerely,

Frosted Flakes...

Dear Snow,

Like all the best heroes you've arrived just in time to save the day. Now, if you can hang on for a few more days think how easy that will make it for Santa's sleigh, thereby ensuring your place at the head of the nice list. I'm just sayin'...

Yours sincerely,

Once A Skunk...

Dear Pépe Le Pew,

In any other world you'd have been given a restraining order. You chased her mercilessly, left her gifts she didn't want, drove her to the edge of cliffs in a desperate attempt to flee your unwanted affections. What would you have done if you had ever caught her? I appreciate English is not your first language, but no is no, even in French...

Yours sincerely,

Dancin' Like No One Is Watchin'...

Dear Vera-Ellen,

In my head I can dance like you. I would like to dance like you, but instead I will imagine I do and so the hours will pass until Fred can come a callin'...

Sometimes I think my waist is as small as yours as I swirl as elegantly in my head, as you do about a room. Those of us who are clumsy, need a role model, I think I may have found mine.

Not for you, the vulgar dress or showy manner of a Pussycat doll. The leg can go as high, but the level of class sets the bar so much higher. Back when ladies were ladies and people were celebrated for their talent, rather than their inability to wear knickers, you stood out for me. You out dance most, I've watched your partner try to keep up, lord only knows how bad you would make him look, if you took off your four inch heels.

Rewind and repeat were the order of the day, the weather was cold, inside and out were frozen, there was no escape from it, until I pressed play. Everything warmed up and I wanted to build a time machine because I thought it would be nice to talk to you. Maybe you could teach me a step or two, or maybe I could just borrow a dress...

Yours sincerely,

It's All White...

Dear Bing Crosby,

It sounds like melting butter. and so, Christmas has arrived...

Yours sincerely,

Nipping At My Nose, Ears, Arms, Legs Etc...

Dear Jack Frost,

You little trickster. I thought I knew you, but you were only playing with me, weren't you? I mean, we have spent a lot of time together in the past. Those of us with a passport embossed with the world Ireland are familiar with the damper, more bone chilling, mother of God will I ever be warm again side of you, that you sprinkle from time to time upon my homeland. Now though, as I sit here on holiday in Portland, like all of the most interesting men, I see that you held a side back.

I find myself cursing you and dressed like an onion, which, I might add, greatly impedes ones sexual activity. There are only so many layers one can strip off before boredom or exhaustion sets in, my favourite being a combination of the two. Do you think I'm hot? Well let me just get these four top layers off, break off my frozen mittens, unlace my boots, wipe the ice from my eyeballs and then we get to the juicy stuff, my thermal underwear, all six layers of it...People say reproduction thrives upon weather like this, having to stay indoors so much. I really think it's more to do with the idea of putting anything on, be it made of latex or anything else, when the best part of three hours has been spent undressing. Personally, I don't think there is anything wrong with sex in a cardigan, but maybe that's just me...

I wonder how you choose your targets Mr Frost, having just returned from a work trip around a positively mild Eastern Europe, what a waste of a beautiful fake fur bonnet, I do like a nice bonnet. You have chosen to summon your arctic powers and place them firmly upon my shoulders here in Portland. Indeed the natives feel the need to inform me that it is not usually this cold in an almost accusatory tone, like I had made you my travelling companion by choice. There was talk of burning me at the stake, or maybe there wasn't, it's hard to tell through the ear muffs.

Mr Frost, sweet kind Mr Frost, if you could find it in your frozen heart to warm up a degree of two for tomorrow so that my sightseeing takes me further than the emergency room/bonfire, I would be so grateful. Perhaps you could pay a wee visit to Eastern Europe, I hear it is unseasonably mild for this time of year...

Yours sincerely,