James Proclaims!

I started 2025 with some fairly ambitious plans for my blog. Not only was I planning to hit the fairly achievable target of at least one prose-based post per week, I was quietly confident of adding a weekly poem to the mix. This would, after all, present only a modest output in comparison to my more hedonistic eras of content generation (which occurred intermittently between 2015 and 2021). I wasn’t even going to hold myself to particularly strict levels of quality control – this blog was always intended to be a fun little outlet that I would use to exercise my muse in preparation for bigger, more prestigious projects, that would eventually launch my twin careers as an acclaimed novelist and one of the foremost satirists of my generation.

This calendar year, on the tenth day of May 2025 to be precise, I will be celebrating a decade of the existence of James Proclaims. During those ten years, there have been no big or prestigious projects. I am not a novelist, nor have I put any effort into becoming a novelist, beyond a couple of half-hearted attempts at NaNoWriMo, the last of which was around three years ago. I am certainly not the foremost satirist of my generation. Which to be fair, is only partially my fault. Certainly I haven’t really put a great deal of time or energy into writing the kind of biting satire that I once imagined myself to be capable of. But the world has essentially been self-satirising for most of the time this blog has existed. You honestly couldn’t make up most of the stuff that seems to be taken as the norm these days.

So, since May 2015, my only literary output has been the material on these pages. Which is considerably more than I’d managed for most of my existence prior to that. There’s not exactly a shortage of wannabe writers in the world. For better or worse, most of them actually bother to write stuff though. I’m not sure, even as an aspiring wordsmith, I have much to offer in the way of credentials. This blog was once something but these days it is mainly nothing.

Nonetheless, I was sure, in the decennial year of my little corner of the internet, I would up my game and get at least a weekly offering back on these pages. However, it is the 23rd March as I write this, and this is only my second post of the year. I wish I could claim to have been involved in other worthy pursuits in the last few months, but in terms of personal development, I haven’t been especially proactive. I’m fairly competent at my job, I suppose, and I’m maintaining a credible level of personal fitness. And I think I’m quite good at being a dad.

Little Proclaims, my six-year-old daughter would concur with this assessment. She generally quite likes me. And Mini-Proclaims, her almost-three-year-old sister, has certainly warmed to her father in recent times, having been largely indifferent to me for much of the first half of her life. It is true that a lot of the time I would once have dedicated to procrastinating about writing, is now spent managing the demands of my daughters. And tidying up after them. And blackmailing them into eating vegetables.

Today I find myself in front of my laptop, able to churn out whatever this is, because my children are entertaining themselves. Occasionally they interrupt my flow to offer me some imaginary food, facilitated by the toy catering set that served as one of Mini Proclaims’ Christmas presents. Little Proclaims, who is developing into quite an accomplished scribe, has produced a menu and I have thus far enjoyed the delights of an imaginary ‘unicorn pancake’ and some imaginary ‘unicorn soup’. I think I might order the ‘unicorn chocolate mouse’ next. I believe my daughter meant to write ‘unicorn chocolate mousse’, but the spelling mistake only makes the menu more endearing. ‘Soup’ was originally recorded as ‘soop’ but I did help her to correct that. I don’t know why I prioritised her spelling of ‘soup’ over her spelling of ‘mousse’. I don’t think I’ve got an established track record of obsessing over the orthography of starters, while neglecting the linguistic protocols of desserts, but perhaps I just wasn’t aware of my fixation prior to today.

Before their move into catering, my daughters spent much of this afternoon working on a ‘circus show’. Rehearsals mainly seemed to consist of taking all the cushions off the sofa and jumping on them. Then Little Proclaims ‘sold’ me a ticket, collected same ticket off me and showed me to my ‘seat’, which, in the absence of a functioning sofa, was a space on the carpet. Then came the show proper, which mainly consisted of my daughters jumping around on sofa cushions. Interestingly, Little Proclaims seemed irritated by her younger sister, who was apparently not sticking to the script and instead doing her own thing. Although, as both children were jumping on sofa cushions, I couldn’t quite work out how my youngest daughter had deviated from the plan. There was a brief interval, when, presumably as a result of creative differences, Mini Proclaims absconded from the scene. The second half continued as very much a solo act, but was no less entertaining for that.

While writing this, I have also been working on the evening meal. We like to eat around the table as a family, rather than sitting in front of the TV with plates on on our laps watching instantly forgettable moving wallpaper. We like to do this but we often fail to do this. Except on Sunday evenings, when we try a bit harder. I’m not one to brag, but the meal I’m about to serve up is going to be quite delicious.

Although probably not as good as ‘unicorn chocolate mouse’.

Incidentally, I can’t work out if the contents of Little Proclaim’s unicorn-themed menu are aimed at a predominantly unicorn clientele or actually made of unicorns. And if it is the latter, I’m slightly concerned about the ethics involved.