Tag Archives: christmas

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all.


Ok, I know it’s a bit late but..

MERRY CHRISTMAS & HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

It’s far to say that the celebrations took a very different turn this time. 

Many months ago we decided that it would be too weird having Christmas down here without our friends and family around so we hired a cottage up north so we could spend Christmas with our nearest and dearest.  The cottage was located at the highest point in the highest village in the country. We didn’t know that we we booked it but we certainly knew about five seconds after we arrived and got out of the car. Good grief! Windy? It nearly blew my socks off!

The cottage itself was lovely, not the usual “dog friendly ‘ cottage which usually means lino floors and furniture that has been discarded from the local old people’s home. This place was warm, comfortable and a lovely base for our stay.  It was a 200 year old weaver’s cottage end the kitchen was down three steps. Even I had to limbo to get in there without bumping my head. They made people small 200 years ago! Still, we managed to enjoy ourselves.

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Unless you’ve been on a different planet, or a different country, you can’t fail to have noticed that there have been  few floods up and down the country. Well, to be honest, if you listened to the news you’d think that it was only York that had been flooded but where we were was badly hit as well but that place isn’t wealthy or famous.

We stayed in the last cottage of a row of four which put us slightly down the hill. As I walked up to the hill and came to the end of the row it was intersected with a farm track. The wind was so bad up there that it blew Douggie the doggie straight into the road and blew me five steps sideways.  Here’s short video to give you and idea of what it was like, listen to that wind howl

Once our friends discovered that we were back up north, as as they say down here, ‘up country’,  we were getting text messages every five minutes inviting us here there and everywhere, it was lovely. Lovely but a bit stressful, we couldn’t fit everyone in so we had to allocate two hour slots.
The day before we came home we managed to get all the family together (mostly) to scatter my brother’s ashes. In the end we decided to put him on the same remembrance plot where we scattered dad’s ashes. You know, so they could keep each other company.  It was surprisingly moving and emotional. I was glad that we’d taken the time to get together. My older brother said a few words and then seemingly from thin air produced a bottle of sherry, some small bottles of beer and glasses so we could all have a final drink with Rick. It was a fitting way to finally lay him to rest. Especially bearing in mind that he’s been in the back of Alec’s car for over  a year, he’s been to Scarborough twice since he died. He travelled more since he died than he ever did when he was alive!

Anyway…back at the ranch. For new year we had a full house. Among our guests were The Incredible Hulk and Storm from X Men. Unfortunately Storm’s super powers didn’t extend to sewing up her costume when the zip went. Imagine my surprise as I went into the bar to find The Incredible Hulk holding Storm’s costume and politely asking me if I could possibly fix it for her. Heh.

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We saw in the new year with a few of the guests. It was fabulous, we had some lovely people stay with us and it was a privilege to see in the new year with them. I hope it’s a taste of what the rest of the year has in store for us.

Whatever new year holds for you I hope it keeps you happy, healthy and blogging. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

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Christmas day in the Mad House


Boofuls was attacked by our giant tree. It was perfect this year, no knobbly or misshapen bits, all we had to do was trim a few inches off the top and decorate it. Marvellous! What do you think about the reindeer hat we saw in Sainsbury’s? Suits you, Sir.

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I’ve really enjoyed all the preparations for it this year. Of course, working for a florist has given me a few extra ideas for decorations.

I made some trees. What do you think?

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Sandra, who I’m working for gave me this amazing Christmas wreath. Isn’t it fabulous?

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So that’s it all done for another year.

I love Christmas and this year did not disappoint.

It was brilliant and I loved every minute of it.

Sophiscated, elegant, restrained and in impeccable taste. Nope, there wasn’t any of that. It was all good, riotous, family fun. I’d already braced myself for it being bonkers, with all the family and four dogs running around I know it wasn’t going to be peaceful. Who wants a peaceful Christmas anyway? Not me!

I’d bought myself a beautiful red dress for the big day but decided at the last minute it was too formal so I opted for my gawjuss, sparkly, red Christmas jumper, purple jeans and red boots. I was looking good – if I do say so myself.

As normal, we set off to bezzie mates for our croissants and champagne. Bezzie always pronounces it as crossont.  I told her I didn’t want any crossonts as I was in too much of a good mood for that, she looked at me strangely until I told her I’d have a happyont instead. So there we were, happyonts all round! Bezzie’s gift to me this year was a onesie, she’d got herself one the same so we went outside and wished the whole street a merry Christmas, – in our onesies, my beautiful Christmas ensemble was all covered up by a fleecy giraffe suit. Ah well. Douggie the doggie thought that I was a big cuddly toy to jump all over.

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This year I even got help in the kitchen from Number one son, The Rev. He’s been learning to cook and enjoyed lending a hand, along with Lashes and Boofuls. Hhhhhmmmm, too many cooks I can here you whispering. Actually, no. It was all very smooth. We did have a couple of teeny culinary issues but nothing to get upset about. I cooked and drained the sprouts only to find that a spider had been cooked along with them. When I announced that sprouts would not be joining us for luncheon this year a cheer went up! Then when I came to serve the carrot and swede batons I discovered that they weren’t so much al dente as break toothy so we didn’t bother with them either. Who needs veg anyway? Bring on the roasties!

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Among my unusual gifts this year was a pack of £50 notes to blow my nose on and some Marmite chocolate. I like Marmite, I like chocolate. Do I like them together? The jury is still out. I’m thinking not.

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Douggie had a great time opening his presents. He’d have opened everyones if he had been allowed. He loves presents.

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We had a brilliant game of don’t show Keith your teeth. It’s a word association game and you have to say your word without repeating what has been said previously and without showing your teeth. That reduced me to tears of laughter (you needed to be there).

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Lashes made this amazing snow scene cake. Big enough to feed about forty people it was most definitely a grand design – and a very nice bit o’ cake.Copyright

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Munki, aka ‘Tell it like it is’ or in this photo, Elsa, was her usual irrepressible self. She didn’t like one of her presents so she turned to me and in a loud voice said, “I don’t like THIS! Do you want it?” as I said, ‘tell it like it is’.

She was swinging between being hysterically funny to tantrumming and then being delightful again all in the space of seconds. You have to be quick to keep up with that child. Photo of the day, the one that made me laugh out loud, was this one. Munki refused to pose, Lashes was losing patience. Me? I howled laughing.  Christmas with kids summed up in one photograph.

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By 7.00pm, everyone had left. Douggie flopped exhausted onto my lap and didn’t move for the rest of the evening. But that was fine as Boofuls and I didn’t move either, except to scoff another chocolate for have a sip of some sweet and ridiculous concoction we wouldn’t dream of drinking at any other time of year. All in all it was a prefect family Christmas. Thank God it’s only once a year!

I truly hope you enjoyed yourChristmas as much as we enjoyed ours. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Merry Christmas


http://instagram.com/p/xBarlBPmvg/ Merry Christmas to all my bloggy friends.

I’m having a quiet five minutes before the day starts. Douggie the doggie seems to have caught the spirit of Christmas and wants to open all the presents under the tree. In a few minutes I’ll be taking him out for a walk and then it’s all systems go! Bezzie mates first and then a day of fun filled festive madness, followed by and evening of Downton Abbey and turkey butties.

Whatever you’re doing I hope you have a wonderful day.

Merry Christmas.

Teaser


I have a friend (Yeah, really!) who always posts a single word post on Facebook and waits to see how many people comment on it. Ten minutes later, if no one has commented she’ll go and open up the topic.

What’s that got to do with anything?  Absobloodylutely sod all.

It’s just that I haven’t got anything to write about and that’s all I could think of – and as it always says in the ‘how to’s’ you should just start to write so here I am.

Apologies in advance for the disjointed drivel that you’ve just read and for that to follow. It’s not even as though nothing has happened this week – loads has happened, just not things that I think are appropriate to share on here. Mostly because it’s been the crap week from hell and since I’m positive thinking at the moment I don’t want to dwell on it. To be honest, the only thing I’m feeling positive about today is that I’m completely and utterly naffed off, tired, emotional and drained. Douggie the doggie having a fit in the early hours of this morning didn’t help matters much. I’ll resume my attitude of gratitude tomorrow.

So. Day off today.

It’s tough being a florist’s assistant. It’s also super busy at this time of year. I went from helping to make a Christmas arrangement to helping to make a coffin top arrangement to Facebooking and updating the website, all in the space of an hour yesterday.  So much for retirement. It’s so busy I’m  working up to and including Christmas Eve.

That brings me nicely to the season of goodwill.

I popped over to have a gander at Manchestercflickchick’s blog, as is my wont. Good blog, go and take a look, say I sent you. Imagine my delight when I read a whole post dedicated to Christmas. Yay! It was one of those nominate jobbies but she didn’t nominate me. I was gutted.  Anyway, God loves those who help themselves – so I helped myself to a nomination and Here it is: my Christmas themed self indulgence fest.

Let’s talk about me…….

Favourite festive food: Where to start? Bring it all on. Christmas morning croissants and champagne at bezzie mates. Christmas dinner with ALL the trimmings, Christmas pudding. Yup. I love it all. I don’t even mind doing all the cooking. If I have a lot of people to cook for then that means that I have all my favourite people around me. What’s not to love? This year I’m going a little bit away from our traditional smoked salmon for a starter and going with beef carpaccio, also known as food of the Gods or manna from heaven.  Nomnomnomnomnomnom. I feel a bit sick now 😦

Favourite Christmas drink: Can I have two? Advocaat should be made compulsory at Christmas and then banned for the rest of the year. Christmas just isn’t Christmas without thick, gloopy, weirdly tasting advocaat mixed with dry ginger. Then there’s the Christmas sherry. I quite like a nice dry sherry. I wouldn’t normally drink it but when I do I can’t stop myself from saying in a shrill voice at regular intervals, “More sherry, vicar?” as I hold out my glass for a refill.

Favourite reindeer: Hhhmm. It has got to be Rudolph as the rest of them are a set of two faced, laughing, name calling  bitches. I hate bullies.

Favourite day of Christmas: All of them, starting in mid December.  In the last week I have foraged a tree from the garden to paint and decorate with icicles and snowflakes, I’ve foraged twigs and ivy to make a Christmas tree. Tomorrow I’ll be making my table decorations from leylandii and wine bottles. Christmas is a crafter’s dream! I  love the run up to it, I love the excitement, the gift buying and wrapping, the cooking, the visiting, the chaos, the giving and receiving of gifts, the meaning of Christmas. I’m not a church goer now but have some very deep seated beliefs, which is why I get so pissed off when people get all politically correct and start referring to it as ‘the holidays’. It’s a Christian celebration. Christ – mas, the clue is in the name. Got it? *catches rant before it starts*  I suppose my favourite day has to be the day itself but only by a whisker.  Did I mention I love it?

Favourite Christmas song: Easy peasy. It’s the one Douggie the doggie and me danced to at the dog club party last year. Louis Armstrong’s Zat you Santa Clause? I can’t help but smile when I hear it and Louis Armstrong has a special little place in my heart anyway.

Favourite Christmas present: Another easy one. Although I’ve had many, many brilliant presents over the years, the one that springs to mind is the Sindy doll I got as a little girl. It was in the days before that long legged and big boobed American imposter, barbie really caught on here. I loved my Sindy doll and was distraught when my little brother pulled her head off on Boxing Day.

Favourite Christmas film: Ok, ok, I know I’m supposed to say “It’s a Wonderful Life’ but it aint. It’s Elf. Ok? There, I said it in public.

Favourite Christmas tv advert: It’s caused a lot of controversy but I love the Sainsbury’s advert about the first world war ceasefire on Christmas day. I wonder how many people realise that it’s a true story? It makes me cry every time I see it.

Favourite Christmas decoration:  As my daughter can tell you, I fall in love with anything rustic. My absolute favourite decoration is a rustic fairy dressed in brown and gold with long golden hair….Oh. But then there’s my collection of Father Christmas’s I love all of them, tricky to choose.  This year’s favourite? My big balls. Haha. Oo-er missus! I bought some giant balls for the tree. Every tree needs giant balls. Doesn’t that just paint a great picture in your head?

Favourite festive tradition: Well, every year follows pretty much the same routine. Brekkie with bezzie, drinks at Len’s mum and dad’s, everyone round to ours for pressies and dinner. That’s the way I like it so I have to say my favourite tradition is all of it!  Don’t even get me started on why anyone would go for a curry on Christmas day. That’s just bizarre. One year we went to a restaurant for Christmas dinner. It snowed, it was beautiful, there was lovely music, no bickering, the atmosphere was brilliant, the meal was so much better than I could have cooked. It was all wrong, wrong, wrong. Christmas should be at home with the family.  Which brings me to….

Place to spend Christmas: See above.

So there it is, my perfect Christmas. If you’re still here, thank you for indulging me. I’m in a much better mood now. Time for a snooze on the settee while I watch Elf again. When you get a minute, why don’t you tell me all about your perfect Christmas?

Let’s do it all again!


Here’s a plan.

The first ten days of this year has been so awful and hell, we’re only ten days in! I’m not going to bore you with the details but none of it’s trivial stuff. Just take my word for it that it’s  just awful. Heart wrenchingly, frustratingly, terrifyingly, anger makingly awful.

Every single day has been worse than the last so far this year. Yesterday I spent most of the day in tears as it all got too much. 

See, that’s why I hate New year. All this sodding expectation that everything will be bloody great this year and when it turns not to be all you have is a massive feeling of disappointment as well as all the crap to deal with. New year should be banned.

Fancy sitting there at our local Flab Fighter’s meeting,  right on the front row because bezzie who I go with is as blind as a bat, in tears. God. The shame!

No. I wasn’t crying  because I’ve put weight on, although I have but who gives a toss.  I’ve got bigger things to think about at the moment, I was in tears because one stupid, stupid woman said I looked upset and asked me if I was ok.

NEVER ASK AN UPSET WOMAN IF SHE”S OK!!!!

It’ll only end in tears – and it did. Lots of ’em. And snot. So much snot. Why can’t I cry prettily?

So. I’ve devised a plan. No, not to learn how to cry prettily, at my time of life I think I’m stuck with the red eyes, puffy face and snot type of crying.

No sirree.  My plan is this:

We are going to put the Christmas tree back up and all the decorations, forget that the last ten days ever happened and just do Christmas and New Year all over again. Except that we’ll just extend Christmas a bit and not do New Year.

Now that’s a good plan.

We might be slightly out of sync with the rest of the year come the end of December but we’ll worry about that when we get there.

Who’s with me?

Ho Ho Oh!


Hello? Complaints Department?  You haven’t posted a blog for 11 days. That’s EL-E-VEN whole days.

Get to it!

Crap. Eleven days? Well. In my defence……. *begins a long list of excuses and whining*

It would appear I’ve gone form a moderately successful wedding photographer to a stonkingly good baby photographer. I’ve got orders spewing  out of every orifice at the moment. Working till stupid o’clock every night just to try and keep up with it all.

While we’re on the subject of spewing ( I know! I can hear you saying it, “Just leave that one right there, Lesley. Just put the subject down and step away from it”).

Sorry. Can’t.

Munki started it all off. Grey faced and wan she shook, shat and projectile vomited while they tried to put up the Christmas tree. It kind of takes the fun out of it ( the trimming up, not the vomiting) . Singing along to Deck the halls with boughs of *bluerggghghghghgh*.  The poor little  mite wished on a star that she could never be sick again.

Then she passed the bug on to Lashes. Not to say she was illl or anything but she lost ten pounds in a week. Oh well, they do say every cloud has a silver lining and there it is!

Lashes then passed the bug on to Boofuls.  The less said the better, I feel.

I went into full on germ phobia mode. Nary a door handle was touched without me disinfecting it first. Kisses were  blown from across the room and cuddles were straight out of the window. I haven’t got time to be bloody ill!

I was dispatched to the chemist’s for remedies. It reminded me of my friend, who, when we were on holiday and I was ill, walked into the chemist and said loudly as she pointed to me ” WHAT HAVE YOU GOT FOR MY FRIEND?SHE’S GOT THE SHITS?” The shame!!!

I chose to take a lower key approach although my mission was the same. I slipped quietly into the chemist’s and enquired discreetly as to suitable remedies for Lashes’ predicament so as not to attract the attention of the  family of four waiting who were waiting there for a taxi.

Yes, really. I thought it was a bit odd but then I had to remind myself that this is Dingleville and anything goes. They obviously thought as I pulled up outside in my car that I was the taxi and glowered angrily at me when they realised I wasn’t. Intimidating, much.

I was asking the pharmacist  advice on the best way to stop, er, emissions when a woman walked in, barged past everyone, threw a Christmas card onto the counter from a distance and snarled ‘Merry Christmas’ in a voice that suggested she’d rather be saying, ‘fall down and die, bitch’. Then she turned on her heel and stropped out.

The pharmacist and I looked at each other shocked  until I said, “and a merry Christmas to you too.” At which point we started to giggle.  When the pharmacist told me that the woman who delivered the card had done  so on behalf of the local church I  giggled some more at the irony of it all, then I laughed till I cried. Tears streamed down my face. The family of four waiting for the taxi looked at me warily, obviously thinking I was an escaped lunatic. I left the chemist’s still laughing, clutching my various potions for delivery to Lashes. It kept me going all day, that did.

Last weekend I had a full list of appointments booked at the studio. The trouble was I was feeling a bit like Old Mother Hubbard but just couldn’t find the time to go shopping and I was getting mightily fed up of living on sandwiches.  Boofuls offered to do the weekly shop. Reluctantly I agreed to let him do it. It’s not that I don’t trust him but we can’t just live on bread, ham, wine and chocolate. I’d give it  fair go though. Anyway, he hopped off to Sainsbury’s while I talked doting Mums through their sprogs photos. 

Bless him, he tried, he really did. I could tell by the contents of the shopping bags that he’d tried to shop like I do. I could almost see him thinking, ‘she always buys fruit……and vegetables so we’ll have some of them’. ‘Some’ in this instance meaning enough to keep a whole zooful of animals in fruit and veg for an entire month. Dear Lord, there’ll be no shortage of vitamins in this house for a while! The rest of the shopping basket was  bread, wine, ham and chocolate.

Here I am holding my two huge melons. Lovely melons, eh? Teeheheee.

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Munki and I were in the woods today taking Douggie for a walk. There’s a tree in the woods that locals have decorated with baubles. I put one on this morning in memory of my dear old Mum, she loved Christmas. Munki wanted to put one on as well so we went this afternoon.  She wanted me to lift her up so she could put it on one of the highest branches but we negotiated and we settled for one of the child height branches instead. Here’s my bauble. Green because Mum always told me that heaven was green.

green christmas bauble

And here is Munki next to her bauble. Pink because Mum loved pink.

pink bauble

And the tree in it’s entirety with it’s ‘stripe’ of baubles.

christmas tree and dog

Right. That’s enough gossip for now. Tonight’s appointment has cancelled which means that Boofuls, Douggie and me get to spent (almost ) a whole evening together. I just have a few small jobs to do first…..

The ‘C’ Word


If I hear the word ‘Christmas’ one more time I may have to punch someone. Ho ho effing ho.

Seriously, I’m a big fan of the festive season. Probably the biggest fan of the festive season but puh-lease  can we just wait a few more weeks before uttering the ‘C’ word?

Mind you, the feeding frenzy that is Christmas has already started in the shops. Cards have been on display for weeks along with selection boxes and ‘Brut for men’ gift packs.  Its hard not to think that you’re on  the last minute when you’re being bombarded with: ‘BUY NOW BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!!!!’

Jeez………….*lightbulb moment*  Actually, now I come to think of it, yes.  I almost forgot it was all about him.  I bet his Dad didn’t realise how commercialised and distorted the whole story was going to get when he put his masterplan into action.

Anyway, back to the plot…

I haven’t even had my summer holiday yet, I’m not even entertaining the idea of Christmas till I’ve been back at least a day.

The holidays this year will be er…….interesting. We’re going to Spain with some friends to see a friend, one long overdue for a massive cuddle. I’m dying to see her. Who’d have thought when we met at school we’d still be friends 10 20 30 

OK!!!

40 odd years later. There I’ve said it. Bloody hell! Now I feel  as old as Methuselah – but how nice it is to still have friends from my childhood.

We get back from that holiday, spend four days washing clothes and deleting millions of emails and then we go away again to Torquay to see Boofuls’ brother.  This time we’re going with Lashes, Len, all the grandchildren and both dogs.   Dangerous seems to think she’s going to the Caribbean rather than south Devon. Apparently she’s taking her swimming cossie so she can swim in the sea and play on the beach. At the end of October? Bbbbbrrrrrr.

It’s going to be eventful, I think. I’m already hatching plans to keep three lively kids amused in a ‘closed for the winter’ seaside resort.

You’ll never guess what I did today.

What a dope ( me, not you).

As normal I checked my diary. Shoot at 11.00 a.m. Nothing else for the rest of the day. Ooh lovely, I though,  I’ll go for a nice long walk with Douggie the Doggie – and so I did, it was lovely.

I landed back at work after our walk to stern faces and “Why don’t you take your phone?” I’d only been and gone and missed an appointment!

Quelle horreur!

Clients turned up to view their photos and I’m halfway up the bloody moors! Much grovelling on my part when I got back.

It’s there very clearly in black and white in my diary and I didn’t even see it. Definitely time for a holiday.

Woss ‘e say?


Boofuls has been struck deaf.First in one ear and now the other. Oh what joy. He’s had a low level cough and cold for weeks and now that he’s stopped running round like a headless chicken it seems to be taking hold. The end result is that the telly is now on blaringly loud and every now and then he’ll turn to me and shout “Woss ‘e say?” sounding uncannily like his Dad.  If he doesn’t make an appointment soon to get his ears syringed I’ll be doing it myself, it’s driving me mad. Eh?

So. Another Christmas has been and gone.

The dog has been a bit perplexed by it all, I mean, hat’s the point of having a tree in the house if you aren’t even allowed to pee on it? Seriously, whats the point? Eventually he got the idea that it was neither for peeing on nor  a source of hanging toys for his delight, entertainment or  edification and he’s since treated it with the disdain he considers it deserves.

I was on Facebook earlier when I found this link to a list of peculiarly British problems. Obviously I had to go and take a look. I wish I could say it’s a load of tosh but……

British problems

The worst by far to someone of my tender sensibilities is number 10. “Of accident.” Excuse me? Is that even English? I’m sure you meant ‘by accident’. It assails my ears as badly as nails down a blackboard.

While I’m on the subject of language, perhaps you could clear up a mystery for me.  I’m quite good at telling the time, have been since quite a young age actually. I know that when the big hand reaches 9 it’s a quarter to the hour and when it reaches 3 it’s a quarter past the hour. What the hell does the American: ‘It’s a quarter OF the hour mean? Items like this need to be clarified to prevent international time keeping disasters.

Christmas Eve


Christmas Eve!

Hold on a sec while I go and take sausage meat and pigs in blankets out of the freezer…….Thanks for waiting.

That wouldn’t be good  – Christmas dinner with no pigs in blankets or sausage meat stuffing. So it’s all ready, shopping done days ago, presents wrapped, house cleaned, trimmed up  and ready to receive a stream of visitors. I love Christmas. All we need now is a nice blanket of snow and it’ll all be just perfect. Not much chance of a white Crimbo this year though with temperatures at 10 degrees, rain and blustery winds. I hope Rudolph doesn’t get blown off course! But just in case he does I have a nice little stash of pressies upstairs that might find their way under our tree.

It’s a peculiar thing about  Christmas. During the last few days when people are out shopping, there is always a different atmosphere in the air. I always find that people are friendlier, smilier and more polite – far more inclined to wait and hold a door open for you than at any other time of year when they’d probably let it drop in your face. You can hear, “Happy Christmas” , “All the best” and other greetings to and from people who would hardly get a nod at any other time of year. Even a total stranger with a trolley laden with all sorts of goodies and crossing the car park at the same time as me cheerfully wished me  a happy Christmas.  Seriously. What’s not to love about Christmas? I really does have a touch of magic about it.

The plan for today is to make a start on tomorrow’s feast. I’m making Boofuls some parsnip and apple soup because he won’t like the starter the rest of us are having. This year we aren’t having the traditional smoked salmon and prawns. This year we’re having king prawns wrapped in bacon and fried in garlic butter. Ok, I know it’s not the healthiest option, more of a heart attack on a plate but I’m working on the basis that since I eat healthily 99…98…..better make that 85% of the time I’m not going to worry about it.  I’ll cook the turkey today so I don’t need to try and do it after our annual champagne and croissant breakfast at bezzie mates in the morning. Hic.

I think I might make the root veg mash as well today as well as the traditional sherry trifle. OH! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the waaaaaaaay!!!

The other day, Gembolina, Lashes and me took the clingons to a huge garden centre known for it’s fabulous Christmas displays. We weren’t disappointed. It was A-MAZ-ING! Dancing snowmen! Polar bears! We were giddy with excitement.

Dancing snowmen
Polar bears

Here’s of picture of our gorgeous granddaughters. It was Batty’s birthday yesterday. Aaaw I remember vividly the day she was born. Due on Millennium day, she was a bit early and greeted everyone by projectile vomiting on them. That was the start of six weeks in the special care unit but just look at her now, a gorgeous and confident young lady. I wish there were words to adequately describe how much I love my family. Sigh (wipes away tears of pride).

All three clingons

I was chatting with Paprika Furstenberg ( go and have a read, she’s a funny, funny lady) via the comment box the other day about accents and words that are peculiar to our own countries. Apparently her favourite English work is ‘gobsmacked’ good call. I was a bit gobsmacked when I discovered that.

Just as a little seasonal gift to her I am going to expand her knowledge of Lancashire dialect, courtesy of our nearest neighbour, the Lanky born and bred  farmer or as he says it ‘furmer’, who even occasionally has me guessing as to what he’s actually meaning.

So here we go:

Saying:  Am a feart.

Have you worked out what it means yet?  If not I’ll give you the answer at the end.

When it’s said out loud it sounds remarkably like ‘I’m a Fiat.’

So in the absence of auditory clues you need to be looking for visual and contextual clues. If the person in question is holding up their arms to chest height as if holding a steering wheel and running round the room saying ‘brum brum’ then they probably do mean, ‘I’m a Fiat’ in which case a call to the nearest mental health facility might be in order, unless they are four years of age, then it’s entirely appropriate.

If however, they are standing in front of you white faced, shaking, with their eyes as wide as saucers and  rolling round in their heads then they probably mean, “Ahm a feart.’

Got it yet?

Meaning: I’m scared.

Tune in for another Lanky dialect lesson soon.

Happy Christmas  everyone. Just to get you in the mood, here are a couple of photos of Mrs Woofy in her Christmas scarf from when it was snowing last week.

Snowy lane
Mrs Woofy in her new Christmas scarf