Saturday, 27 December 2008
What would you think about a husband who gave his wife a grey paperback entitled 'How to Store Your Garden Produce' as his main gift for Christmas? Well, I can tell you what I think, "B*st*rd!" I can tell you, quite frankly, that despite the Centre for Alternative Technology calling this book "a great gift for any gardener", it most certainly isn't. It's about the most boring bloody book I've ever seen. It seems so unfair when I'd bought him a delightful MP3 player, a portable steamer, AND a radio controlled helicopter ('toy of the year' according to some sources). Other members of my marital family seem to think, with one mind, that what I need is a good wash, as I received very little other than bars of soap from them (despite offering them acres of hospitality and free parsnips). Solid soap's useless to me as I use the liquid kind. I was determined not to get depressed this Christmas, but I can tell you that by Boxing Day morning my mood was very black indeed. Perhaps it wasn't surprising, therefore, that I 'accidently' set light to my place setting before lunch ( I had been lighting candles and put what I thought was a burnt out match down before leaving the room), causing a major fracas amongst the relatives, as a napkin, and an entire place mat were engulfed with flames. I felt better after that...
Friday, 19 December 2008
I'm pretty exhausted today, as I've just finished placing my nativity sets around the new house. I should explain that I have around 25 nativity sets from around the world, most of which had not been unpacked since our move from France over two years ago. So first of all I had to unpack them all from their shoe boxes. My desk soon took on the appearance of a multinational refugee camp with fighting Kings, sobbing Mary's, and abandoned baby Jesus's all over the place. Took me ages to sort it all out, I can tell you. Everyone's in their correct family unit with no cultural differences to worry the social services about. The only disaster was I accidently ripped the head off an Equadorian angel. But I have a spare! (Angel not head). All this on top of missing my first visit from the bin men this morning. How can this have happened, you ask yourself? Well, I forgot they come A DAY EARLY on Christmas week. This can happen to the best of us, even those who collect considerable amounts for charity....ok, ok, I can't wait to tell you, I collected over £50 in my box more than a tenth of the sum total for the whole day. How's the new house? Wonderful. Just a few minor teething pains. Like the central heating going off every day and a distinct lack of hot water (did I tell you about our state-of-the-art solar panels?).
Thursday, 11 December 2008
Oh Lord, I feel I've been letting you all down with my absence again. But I've been so busy what with the house move and all. Not to mention fund-raising again for my charity. I discovered this year there was an opportunity to collect money in the city centre with carol singers. So, I said I'd go as long as I could sing. When I mentioned this to the snobby woman on the phone she said, 'Oh nooooo, you caaarrnt do that. We have some of the most professional of choirs coming' 'Can I hum?' I said, promising to arrive at 9.30 sharp. So I arrived, and she of the starched grey hair said, 'You said you were coming at 11.00' No, I said, 9.30. She sent me away until 10.00. I returned and joyfully took my can and overalls. I was soon in the swing of things, chasing shoppers up and down the mall and covering small children with stickers. Mrs Starchy told me to stand quietly by the pillar. I had a pretty dull half an hour collecting absolutely zero money, when who should arrive but my friend from the Manic Depressive Society. He got bored after about two minutes and, putting the collecting can on his head, started to mimic slitting his throat. At this point I asked the choir whether they took requests, and asked them to sing something a bit more upbeat (they'd been doing some awful, depressing stuff in four part harmony). So we had a rousing rendition of We Wish You A Merry Christmas with me and my friend dancing and singing at the tops of our voices. We soon gathered quite a crowd and the money really started rolling in! At 11.30 I had to go as I was meeting H in town, so I told Mrs H of my immanent departure. 'Oh you can't possibly do that' she said, 'We only leave on the hour...' I said, just watch me, and left. I hope I leave you all well. I might not be around for a bit as I'm finally moving house tomorrow and I'm not sure about my internet connections...But I hope you all have a lovely Christmas.