Christmas Eve and I have only heard The Twelve Days of Christmas twenty seven times. Those gold rings sound ever more appealing.
The two main stories on the front page of The Times today, detail what and where Boris is doing/going for his Christmas hols and what The Queen is going to say in her Christmas speech tomorrow. Call me old fashioned, but it would be so much more enjoyable to sit down and listen to HM delivering her spiel without having been told first what she is going to say. As for the PM, the poor chap has been working his little bits off for weeks and thoroughly deserves a nice holiday, just like the rest of us. If he is lucky enough to be able to afford a week or two in Mustique, good luck to him. Is it REALLY a front page story? The journalism of envy. I want my Prime Minister fit, strong, healthy and refreshed to meet the upcoming challenges full on and fearless. To pretend that his needs are the same as the dustman, the milkman, the postman or even Uncle Tom Cobley is so absurd as to be unrealistic. Which is, of course, exactly what so much of modern society and thinking is.
On that brief note, I am going to take a holiday with the family in the West Country, where it will probably be wet, cold and uninspiring, but hopefully we will have great fun meeting up with friends and family and will all return home for New Year’s Eve with spirits rekindled, bodies rested and minds rejuvenated. Hopefully.
I expect to be back in print on 31st December. Until then, enjoy the Spirit of Christmas…..which in my case is Baileys on ice and possibly some very good vintage port. Cheers.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 