Step into Christmas
Down the road, a tree lights up above Mr and Mrs Champage-Charlie's front door, over the church shop, at Mrs Bancroft's and, last but not least, the Grigg abode. It is a relief because a few hours earlier, Mr Grigg had a plaintive phone call from Mrs Bancroft who wailed: 'My lights have come on and it's only half past three.' So the timers were all adjusted and we just hoped for the best.
We had no idea if anyone would turn up for this step into Christmas but well-wrapped-up figures come from here there and everywhere to join in the ceremony. It isn't quite Oxford Street but it's ours, and it's going well.
There is mulled wine and cider, mince pies and carols around the tree led by Tuppence. I trill like a canary, doing the descant for 'sing choirs of angels' but bottling out of the rest of the verse.
And then it is all off to the village hall arms, joyful and triumphant.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x