Tis The Season

. . .or do I mean "Twas The Season.."?

I began writing this post between Christmas and New Year, ran out of time and have now been obliged to delete the first two paragraphs as completely irrelevant to the time in which we currently exist - today being the 3rd of January. So, to continue where I left off all those days ago:


. . .a certain Millbrooker is finally returning to his sadly neglected and long un-updated blog to witter on about very little for another year or so.


What can I say about Christmas - we did pretty much what everyone else who marks the occasion did. Possibly in a different order, but much of a muchness all the same.


There was the big meal - we did it around one-ish and had a very posh version of mushrooms on toast to start, roast venison and all the trimmings for mains and traditional microwaved Sainsbury's-own-brand Christmas pud with plenty of brandy.

We also treated ourselves to a once-a-year foray into the depths of the understairs wine cellar, or wine-pile-boxes-in-a-small-cupboard to be a tad more precise, and emerged with a bottle of Chateau Meyney 2004 . . . mmmmmmm.


Presents were presented during a long-ish break between venison and puds on the grounds that everyone was already too full up to manage a few mouthfuls of brandy-fueled stodge.


I'll concentrate for the purposes of brevity on the main event of present giving between Mrs The Millbrooker and me. This will save readers the sheer boredom of hearing all about the myriad stuff that everyone in the house offered up to everyone else. All of which was, of course, gratefully and gladly received but probably doesn't make for a scintillating read. (No change there then, I hear you cry).


In a quandary (as almost every year) as to what might make a suitable gift for a wife who has everything including a handsome beast of a husband, I finally settled on taking an adventurous trek to Falmouth. Just me, you understand, to revisit a shop that we'd been in together a few weeks before and in which Mrs The Millbrooker had admired a coat; the like of which I'd not seen before nor anywhere since. She seemed very pleased. Which was (and is), of course, the point of the exercise.

And Mrs The Millbrooker (along with all the younger generation) bought me a minor miracle in technological form.

Ah yes - a Kindle.


Thanks to my rubbish eyesight I had more or less stopped reading the printed page. a joy of more years standing than should politely be remembered seemed lost forever. Now, with the adjustable font sizes and the clarity of Amazon's "E-Ink" I can read comfortably again. I'm well over half way through Wuthering Heights after only a couple of days of Kindle usage. Brilliant.


And now  I'll sign off from this post by taking the opportunity to belatedly wish everyone a very Happy New Year and may 2012 bring you everything you wish. I even include the  Plymouth Land Registry readers who moaned to Shazzerooneypoos about the lack of drivellings over the last few weeks. Happy New Year Land Registry Wallahs - there'll be plenty more drivelling coming up very soon!


Especially for you here's Shazzerooneypoos on new Year's Day in the rain.