The Pogues & Kirsty McColl Fairytale Of New York

I suppose this has to be the greatest Christmas song of all time, so I'm posting it before someone else does. There's not a lot to say about Shane MacGowan, and probably far too much to say about the very sad (and suspicious) demise of poor Kirsty MacColl. She had the most beautiful voice.

Yuk, Yuk, and more YUK!

I remember my late father telling me about this bizarre dieting system (I don't think I believed him at the time). He added that when the person thought they were thin enough, they simply took another pill (probably borrowed from the cat) and the parasites would be killed off. Job done!

I wonder how many of today's ad's will be viewed, in 50 years time, with the same sense of disgust and horror!

Oak Logs 2010.

I know I've repeated it many times; but I am really 'blessed' to have such great neighbours.

One such neighbour, Jean-Claude, brought my wood this afternoon. We already have about 12 cu meters of Chestnut in storage, but about 3 days ago I burned my very last piece of Oak.

He brought 4 cu metres of 1 metre split logs which, together, we stacked by the side of the track. My picture doesn't really do it justice, but the sight of freshly stacked dry Oak is a wonderful thing.

N.B. In 2008 the same amount of Oak cost me €170. In 2009 it cost me €170. Guess how much it cost this year; yup, €170. That's the type of inflation I really like!

Cro's Offering of Seasonal Pix.

It's the dog with the human eyes. He never misses the opportunity of a long walk; even in the snow.

The children's mini garden bench, looking rather forlorn without its usual covering of beach towels and toys. At least the sun's shining!

Some of what's left up at Haddock's (after the deer), waiting patiently for Christmas. Roast Turkey wouldn't be the same without wonderful SPROUTS. I love them.

And finally, this is today's view from in front of the cottage. Surprisingly it's not TOO cold, and (it hurts me to admit) all rather beautiful.

Hoarder; Me? No, Just War-Time Spirit.

I wasn't actually around during the last war, but I still hate waste; who doesn't!

Being 'country folk', we do as 'country folk' do. We make jams, chutneys, and pickles. We preserve as much as possible from Haddock's for the winter months.

Like most people who save used glass jars, I always clean them thoroughly and remove any labels, before putting them away untidily in a cluttered corner of the studio.

However, some jars have their labels SO FIRMLY GLUED, that to remove them requires something akin to nitric acid or a serious explosive. So may I make a worldwide plea to all food companies who sell their wares in glass jars; "Would you please use a simple flour paste with which to attach your labels". It would probably save me (and no doubt loads of others) several hours of wasted time each year!

The Junk Pile.

On my very last day at my first full-time Art College (before moving on to my degree course), I came across the college caretaker who was just about to set fire to a bonfire made-up of old and broken studio easels.

Being something of a spendthrift, I asked, before he lit his match, if I could take some.

I looked at the ready pile, worked out in an instant which bits were missing from which easels, and grabbed about 4 incomplete wrecks that I stuffed into my car. From what I saved, I managed to construct two new complete easels.

The caretaker was obviously having an end-of-year clear out, and, at the same time, I noticed a trolly filled with the then un-fashionable plaster casts that were used in times past in place of life models. Again I asked if I could take a few, and managed to save a 'Roman' torso, the above 'antique' head, a Corinthian capital, and some other bits and pieces. Unfortunately the head is the only remaining piece, the other bits having been used for outdoor decor, and since melted away.

Some people's junk is always another's treasure.

Sky Rats.

Seagulls; doncha luv em?

There seems to be an international anti-seagull movement afoot at the moment; perhaps they've simply over-bred. Personally I rather like them, and now that I live in a gull-less area, I kinda miss their raucous juvenile bad-tempered behaviour.

I'm off to Toulouse (it's nearly 5 am). Lady Magnon is going Crimbo shopping in the UK for 2 weeks, and her flight is ridiculously early. Luckily this morning the compact Royce is snow free. Phew!