Flabbergasted.

 

I don't wish to bang my own drum, at least not too loudly; but I have just been awarded 

BLOGGER OF THE YEAR 2020.

I would like to thank my late mother for teaching me to spell, my late father for the occasional loan of his Tailor, and to the International Laughing Horse Committee for their votes.

I would also like to thank Mr Yorkshire Pudding for his extremely kind words.

Mechoui.

We've been vaguely planning a summer party for next year; provided that Covid-19 allows such things.

About 25 years ago, my oldest friend Michael came to stay. We are the same age, and have known each other since we in were short trousers and played with cowboy guns at Prep' school.

His visit also coincided with our mutual 50th birthdays, so we decided to hold a big-bash.

I purchased a whole Lamb, hired an expert roaster (Jean, above in background), and sent invitations to just about everyone we knew. I can't remember how many were here, but around 50 or 60-ish.

I bought a LOT of wine, lots of paté, mountains of bread, and a truck load of flageolet beans, salads, and tomatoes.

Jean and the Count Malvinski (foreground above) did a fabulous job of carving the roasted beast, and we all tucked into a Herculean banquet.

The photos are dreadful, probably on account of too much wine, but they do give some idea of the occasion. There were about twice the amount of guests as shown in the photos, most of whom were off to the right.

We were eating left-over lamb for two weeks.

We did think that we'd never do such a thing again, but if we did it would certainly be without a whole Lamb. Jean (the spit-roaster) is no longer with us, I'm not sure if the Count is either, I haven't heard from him for years. Several of the other diners, I know, are also now also in Mechoui heaven. 

I seem to remember that there were two veggies amongst us; they must really have struggled.

Now that we know we'll be returning to Blighty in late September 2021, to over-winter, we have thought of holding one final big-bash. 

We could roast a few legs of lamb, a few chickens, some guinea fowl, and half a dozen quails, and hope for the best. The barn has a beautiful new terrace, and inside is big enough to accommodate several trestle tables in case of rain. We also have plenty of friends who love to sing. 

What could be better!

 

Increasingly Dangerous Fun.

We've been having some pretty wild and windy weather lately.

En route to my shopping yesterday I came across a huge tree that had fallen half across the road. Luckily I managed to squeeze through, but it was still there when I returned an hour later. Usually such things are dealt with very quickly. I expect it had gone by lunchtime.

Later, Lady M called me to look at some damage nearer to home. 'Dangerous Fun' had totally collapsed. Over the years, the trees have grown and the structure has been pulled apart; the strong wind did the rest. It's been there since 2013, so it's served us well. It'll serve us again now as firewood, unless I can find some other use for what's left.

Such is life!

Good while it lasted.

I must admit that I'm quite happy that all the Christmas hullabaloo is now over.

We had a wonderful few days. The food was 98% good, the children really enjoyed themselves, and everyone had far too many gifts. A classic Christmas.

I'm not fussed about staying up till midnight to welcome the New Year. If there's a good line-up on Jools Holland's Hootenanny TV programme, then I might be tempted; but otherwise, no. 

Actually, I have looked at Jools's 2020/21 guest list, and other than Ruby Turner, I'm not really fussed.

Our main concerns now turn to Brexit. I'm pleased to see that my E111 health card will still be valid; albeit in a new format, but the prospect of being unable to stay in our own home for more than 90 days is crazy. This really needs to be re-negotiated. Freedom of movement is a universal human right, and MUST be preserved; regardless of any Macron/Bernier puerile Brit-bashing. They lost the game; get over it!

Winter is now here. It has been cold (zero C), very wet, and icily windy; with a few sub-zero nights still to come for early January. There is little outside work to be done, so a spot of extra log sawing duties presents no problem.

Books will be read, afternoon snoozes will be enjoyed in front of the fire, and slow cooked casseroles will warm our bellies. Life isn't all shivering, we enjoy walks with Billy and the children, and we chat with friendly neighbours. I don't like winter; in an ideal world I would now be in Martinique, Guadeloupe, or the Réunion. But, frankly, I can't be bothered.

I'll just have to bloody put-up with it until things warm!

Morgan et al.

I wasn't expecting this book for Christmas, but I'm very pleased that it was in my stocking (thank you Lady M).

I really don't know much about Morgan. I don't watch morning TV, and have never subscribed to The Sun, The Mirror, or The News of the World newspapers. My only vague connection with him is that we were both born in God's own County of Surrey. I am slightly senior to him.

In the introduction entitled 'The World's Gone Nuts', one sees at once that his book will be an interesting read. It already had me feeling slightly worried that I was agreeing with his every observation.

His book is timely. He faces the appalling advance of 'Wokeism'; and the disgrace of genuinely liberal folk being classified 'cancelled'. His patience runs out when he hears that Canada's Trudeau outlawed the word 'Mankind' as sexist; forgetting that 'Woman' also contains the word 'man'. 

If you too despair at all the 'over-the-top' silliness of PC, then I expect you'll enjoy the read as much as I will. It certainly won't appeal to the 'snow-flaky-left', but then THEY are mostly the subject of his wrath.

If like me you mourn the demise of true 'liberalism', then this is the book for you; but be prepared to shout, scream, and tear out hair!

Laces.

During the over-filled-nose-bag season I've had to move my laptop from the dining table to a small corner of the room, where the painting (from which this detail comes) lives in front of me.

The painting is of the style of shoes that I've worn since the 60's. I have seen no reason to change my choice of style, or even of colour, for the past 60 years.

I was looking at the picture this morning, and could remember what fun I had painting the laces. 

It's often the little things that make me smile, and this morning it was those laces.

 

Carols from King's, 2020

Not a year goes by without my watching 'Carols from King's' on Christmas Eve.

I didn't think this year's offering was one of the best, but it did have it's high points. The programme was a little safe, with its concentration on what one thinks of as children's door-to-door carols.

In the bleak mid-winter was beautifully sung, but the arrangement far too slow. The Sussex carol was excellent, and Still, still, still, was probably amongst the best.

I was also very pleased to see The King's Singers accompanying the college choir. They were founded by three old boys from my alma mater back in the 1960's. They all went on to King's College together; hence the name. Since those days, of course, the choir line-up has changed countless times.

Mr YouTube won't allow me to post a video from the service, but if you follow this link ......   

In dulci jubilo | Carols from King's 2020 - YouTube    you should be able to hear In dulci jubilo.

All in all, another wonderful experience. I wouldn't miss it for the world.