There's more than One Direction at Christmas
Well, back in Blighty and the weather vane is toppling over.
You see, while the children and grandchildren talked about One Direction over Christmas dinner, for me it's more like every which way but loose. The reason I haven't blogged for ages is that I just don't quite know where I am.
Still, the New Year and 2014 holds lots of exciting things. Maybe more books, certainly more Corfu and maybe a new job, if anyone will have me. Who knows? It's best not to plan too much. The main thing is I am healthy, if not wealthy and wise.
In the meantime, I am soaking up the good old English weather - literally - and all things Westcountry.
Across the UK we've had floods and gales. My friend Tuppence's barbecue took off and was last seen heading off downstream beyond the culvert.There's two tiles blown off our roof, the aforementioned weather vane is finally fleeing the coop and there's a shed overturned on the allotments. The Aga's blown out six times, the Christmas tree outside our house has fallen off twice, together with the metal bracket, and we've had a number of power cuts.
This was the scene from our front door on Monday night, before the tree came down.
Our Landrover is going nowhere after the clutch decided to pack up on a hair-raising journey back from Taunton on Christmas Eve. Hats off to Mr Grigg for travelling seventeen miles and traversing half a dozen junctions without stopping. Now that's what I call a white-knuckle ride.
Yesterday, our new neighbours' car wouldn't start just as we - and they - were about to leave for Boxing Day celebrations with our respective families. My son split his new jeans climbing over into the driver's seat as they attempted to jump start their vehicle.
And the Peppa Pig knickers I gave to my great-niece ended up on her head. She's only two, after all.
'Those lights are a traffic hazard,' I heard one local person whine. For goodness sake, woman, get a life. Lighten up. It's Christmas. Why can't you just say it's lovely to see the square looking so pretty?
But, in among all the Christmas chaos, there is joy in the world. It's the details that matter, such as a sweet rendition of a school carol version of The Last Farewell by the tomboy eight-year-old, in an angel's voice, or overhearing a child talking about Marks & Spensive.
On the weekend before Christmas we had the Symondsbury Mummers performing at the village hall...
So here's wishing you a peaceful, healthy and happy festive season. And if you want it, may you find a new direction, even if it's just the one. But always watch out for a dodgy clutch.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x