Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Friday, 25 December 2015
From there to here and back again
It is a full-moon this Christmas day and as someone pointed out, as if mixing alcohol with families wasn't crazy enough.
The kids went off to catch the last-minute frolics at the pub last night, but turned up relatively drunk in the first place, having just come from there. It was all fine, and I didn't forget the gravy as I did one year. Another year I served the roast potatoes too early, but accidentally left the oven on. When it came time to wash-up and pack it all away, I found the absolutely perfect potatoes uneaten.
I gave H.I. a book of Rilke poetry (she asked for one about 10 years ago), plus a Ladybird book entitled, 'We go to the Gallery', featuring a couple of kids and their mother on the front cover, staring at a blank wall. H.I. gave me an almost indescribable toy which consists of a weasel-like, life-like thing which madly chases and worries a plastic ball around the floor - once you have inserted a battery. Son-in-law says he is going to buy one for the cats. This would amount to cruelty, I think.
This is going to piss Rachel off (again) but my main source of imagery seems to come from Facebook these days, and I love the above letter from a grateful pensioner to the Rank Xerox organisation. My only ambition for the New Year is to see if I can make at least one post which does not feature the 'F' word.