Well Christmas went well

Well Christmas went well. On Christmas eve H created a caster sugar dust cloud in the kitchen the size of Hiroshima making cupcakes which Rolo the labrador, who has a penchant for these,  had found and eaten by 10am the following morning. This was apparently my fault as i had opened the breakfast room door just after I started shouting that the kitchen looked ‘like Santa’s fucking grotto after a snowstorm’. My temper had calmed following the downing of a couple of sharpeners, and after i was let back in the house i opened the first of the Clicquot.  Proceedings progressed smoothly following the lunchtime arrival of The Duchess, Lady S’ venerable yet modern mother ‘Granni’, and my pater Tom, ‘The Grifter’. Who, with his usual grandiose style, distributed his Christmas gifts [and i’m not making this up]. ‘paper plane plans I’ve known and loved’ for Micon the 22 yr old. 4 enamelled floral decanter labels (without chains)  plus a ‘step by step’ Trompe L’Oeil mural guide for me. ‘The complete guide to Britain’s wildlife’ for Lolita the 21yr old.  And for his piece de resistance, last year’s Dandy Annual for Granni. [not impressed] The dinner was the usual ‘tour de force’ I attach the menu as published in Tatler. The traditional game of Taboo was bought to an abrupt halt by Lolita who, having consumed a considerable amount of Claret, launched into a loud and articulate oratory on The Grifter’s misogyny and racism to the glee of all others present. Happy Days.

Christmas is looking rosy

Christmas is looking rosy. Bought all my presents for Family and friends. For Lady S I’m rather pleased to have found a brown ‘David Cassidy’ snood ‘Partridge Family Rocks’ edition. I recycled the stick-on outdoor window thermometer my father bought me for my main present last Christmas (2.99 Esso) by giving it back to him, he won’t remember. A new mini boot hinge for Micon Mabicon, the eldest, to replace the one he bent on my car by continuously slamming it shut. A monthly subscription for daughter Lolita to ‘how not to loose your mobile phone, handbag, passport, sunglasses while out-n-about’ magazine. ‘H’ , the youngest, having recently passed his driving test, is feeling rather chipper so I thought he would especially appreciate a framed copy of the bill I paid for his lessons from BSM. I’m sure the mother-in-law will also be delighted with the heated mono slipper although i’ll admit there’s a bit of a risk she’ll not like the ‘Monster Inc’ purple nylon fur. And my bestest gift of the year, for my old Gloucester friend, and I do mean old, a copy of the Manchester United Year Book, his favourite team! I’m really pleased and expect to report back with their grateful thanks soon. Laters!

My old mate Ged Appleby

Managed to persuade Lady S to stop making placards for her new chums at St Paul’s to come up to Noteen’ill to meet my old school mate GED Appleby this evening. She had met him many a time in our college days, he was at the Poly of course, but he had hair then. The soirée went really well. We were invited to his private members club, I had a few moments of concern being greeted by ‘your host tonight’ Tarquin dressed up like little Bo Peep, and the waiting glasses of Spumante but all was well. GED was his same old self. We were reminded that he was no stranger to a pair of drum sticks in fact, I think I’ve got this right, he was the drummer in Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, ‘Animal’. Anyway, a great time was had by all. And with the evening drawing to a close we made our farewells. The first foreboding of a change in fortune came when Lady S was surprised the taxi driver knew her; ‘Alright Duchess’ says he. I mulled over my response while stoking my trusty pipe. ‘It’s merely an ironic colloquialism used by people born within the sound of Bow bells when confronted with the aristocracy’ I placate. The full horror of my predicament dawned on me when I realized we had missed the last train back to Ascot. Lady S was horrified, ‘ are you seriously expecting me to stand waiting for tHe Bentley’ next to all these bloody drunks and perverts?’ I explained it was a bit harsh on GED as he was still in earshot, but she was still not pleased. ‘It’s two in the morning get that fucking cab here instanter’ . The polish rubs off occasionally.

Prague

The news from the post-Prague medical was not good. Thursday started happily with an early arrival at Heathrow to make a few duty free purchases but The convivial spirit took a bit of a dent when we were ‘greeted’ by a Stoney faced harridan. ‘Are you flying economy today sir? ‘ said the BA stewardess ‘you can’t check in for another hour and half sir….. of course it’s completely different for our first class passengers’. Note to self…. Careful . Lady S doesn’t do waiting especially for that first glass of bubbly in the Prada shop. . Following the ritual public undressing and herding into the cattle pens BA finally delivered us safely to Prague. It’s a shame the same couldn’t be said for our luggage which didn’t join us until day 3 of our 5 day romantic break. Thanks BA! It will come as no surprise to you that Lady S took a rather dim view of this situation. Given her background she surprised me with a rich vocabulary of Anglo Saxon invective which only subsided on the promise of a shopping expedition. The prospect of which would have lesser men than i trembling with fear. Nevertheless I sallied bravely forth and joy of all joys we soon found a marks and sparks nearby. lady S comments: ‘we can buy all the essentials there and give them to the poor people when we return home…. we do have poor people in the village dont we dear?’ Back to plan A thinks I. hurrah. The Rest of the trip passes very cheerfully indeed. Or as the doctor put it today ‘ you must have been on a right royal piss up if these results are anything to go by Gerald, don’t you like your liver?’ . My quip about Fois Gras fell on stoney ground. As Apparently English gentlefolk lack the gene necessary to process the staple Czech diet of huge quantities of pig meat and frothing beer. Without putting on about a stone a day.. if you are a veggie you will starve here, if you are a vegan they will probably eat you. There are no vegetables here, apart from the russkies of course. Ahaa! More from your intrepid reporter will follow in the new year.