Well, here we are again. Another year's gone by and it's Christmas Eve.
Here's a shot of my favourite tree decoration - Father Christmas in a Skirt - on his perch just below the fairy, who's feet can be seen ominously dangling above his head. FCiaS is old. Very old. I know my mother remembered him being a tree decoration when she was a little girl (so that would make him in his sixties least); but I think I can recall my grandmother also saying the same thing. That would make him Edwardian, as she was born in 1904. As neither of these two antecedents is still alive, I can't check; whichever age is correct he's still old by tree decoration standards. And he'll be passed down in due course.Millbrooker Towers, like many other households I'm sure, is still in a state of utter chaos. Mrs The Millbrooker is off doing a bit of last minute grocery shopping; The Depitty is lying around groaning under the great weight of 'flu; The Wizzers of Soz is rushing around Plymouth hoping to complete her Christmas shopping.
Dozybean is (I hope) readying Wriggly Baby for her "mum's taxi" ride to the centre of the civilized universe here in Millbrook.
I should be preparing vegetables for tomorrow's feasting, but I'm having a two minute rest by writing nonsense.
I'll wish everyone who's patiently read through my endless drivellings the Merriest of Christmases. This posting will be the last until after Boxing Day - time will be filled with family stuff until then.
Remember - Christmas is about celebrating the birth of a special baby, without whom Christmas simply wouldn't be Christmas
That's right - happy 51st birthday for tomorrow, Shane MacGowan.
Merry Christmas, All.