Tuesday, 6 December 2011
Santa and my little pony
And as Mr Grigg waited in the house in his glad rags, rouge freshly applied to his cheeks by Mrs Champagne-Charlie to add to the effect, a light clip-clop could be heard coming up the road. It was just before two o'clock. His transport to the school Christmas fair had arrived.
While he adjusted the big buckle around his red tunic, the phone rang. It was Bellows, whose voice is so loud that in all honesty, he could just have easily walked outside his front door and shouted down to us.
'UM, ER, IT'S THE HORSE,' said Bellows.'I'M AFRAID YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO LEAD IT TO THE CHRISTMAS FAIR.'
'Skittish, is it?' Mr Grigg said, the phone six inches away from his ear as he marvelled at his profile in the hall mirror and squatted up and down to test the gusset of the Santa trousers. 'You know, I'm very good with high-spirited fillies. Don't forget I married Maddie.'
'UM, NO, IT'S JUST, UM, IT'S JUST PERHAPS IT'S A TAD SMALL TO TAKE A GENTLEMAN OF YOUR GIRTH.'
And then it arrived. Ride your pony, get on your pony and ride.
Love Maddie x
The sky is as blue as a sailor's trousers this morning. You could make hundreds - no, thousands - of pairs, if only you had the rig...
Back in Corfu and we've just learned that the village where we lived for a year is set to become another film location for The Durrell...
Late one summer Saturday morning, Mr Grigg and I - along with Nobby Odd-Job and Spanish John - venture out from Lush Places for an ‘exp...