...not from outer space, though. From Castle Rhino, the windswept beaches of southern England, and a thoroughly British Christmas. Now when I say "thoroughly British Christmas," I know some of you instantly imagine some sort of Dickensian feast, all roaring fires, garlands of holly, mahogany sideboards groaning under the weight of candied fruits, chestnuts, crippled chimney sweeps, a huge goose, knee-deep snow and Rhino75 wearing a muff. Mmm, sounds rather nice, doesn't it? Particularly that last one. But of course what I actually mean is a "thoroughly MODERN British Christmas". You know, Top of the Pops, a Doctor Who special (with Catherine Tate??!) and a heartwarming film about how a golden retriever finally enabled a mother and father (the sexy Ben Miles) to communicate with their autistic child - altogether now, aaaaahhh. Plus, naturally, industrial quantities of (M&S apricot and cranberry) stuffing, mincemeat, and Quality Street. Basically, we watched pointless tv (Casualty - how unlucky can one hospital be for chrissake?), drank gallons of tea and ate rubbish for four days without a break. Apart from the traditional Christmas Eve at the Cuckoo, singing along to Wind of Change by the Scorpions (when will they get a new dj?) with sis and Su. Star pressies? A gorgeous knitted green hoodie that has hardly been off my back, Season 2 of Desperate Housewives, and a lovely edition of "The Wind in the Willows" (one of my favourite books, to be savoured while munching hot buttered toast and Battenberg Cake). And the usual socks and undies. Everything a boy needs to face a new year. Talking of which, resolutions or no resolutions? I'm still in two minds.
Friday, December 29, 2006
And so I'm back...
...not from outer space, though. From Castle Rhino, the windswept beaches of southern England, and a thoroughly British Christmas. Now when I say "thoroughly British Christmas," I know some of you instantly imagine some sort of Dickensian feast, all roaring fires, garlands of holly, mahogany sideboards groaning under the weight of candied fruits, chestnuts, crippled chimney sweeps, a huge goose, knee-deep snow and Rhino75 wearing a muff. Mmm, sounds rather nice, doesn't it? Particularly that last one. But of course what I actually mean is a "thoroughly MODERN British Christmas". You know, Top of the Pops, a Doctor Who special (with Catherine Tate??!) and a heartwarming film about how a golden retriever finally enabled a mother and father (the sexy Ben Miles) to communicate with their autistic child - altogether now, aaaaahhh. Plus, naturally, industrial quantities of (M&S apricot and cranberry) stuffing, mincemeat, and Quality Street. Basically, we watched pointless tv (Casualty - how unlucky can one hospital be for chrissake?), drank gallons of tea and ate rubbish for four days without a break. Apart from the traditional Christmas Eve at the Cuckoo, singing along to Wind of Change by the Scorpions (when will they get a new dj?) with sis and Su. Star pressies? A gorgeous knitted green hoodie that has hardly been off my back, Season 2 of Desperate Housewives, and a lovely edition of "The Wind in the Willows" (one of my favourite books, to be savoured while munching hot buttered toast and Battenberg Cake). And the usual socks and undies. Everything a boy needs to face a new year. Talking of which, resolutions or no resolutions? I'm still in two minds.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
Pointless TV, tell me about it. I went back home to the UK for 4 days and had to endure not only the usual Eastenders Christmas melodramatic cliffhanger, but also Emmerdale (yes, believe it my relatives watch Emmerdale and half of them aren't originally from the UK, they have been Emmerdale-assimilated!!) and lashings of some Strictly Ballroom Dancing contest with celebs, plus some new competition hosted by Noel Edmonds that "everyone" seems to be crazy about, DVD version included. All of the above, plus the general hysteria of multiple presents for children who now find themselves so overwhelmed with the amount of presents they receive that they are tired of unwrapping them by 12 noon December 25th. Oh yes, and all those telling debt management adverts which insidiously pop around this time of year... What a crazy place really, you have to love it.
Tiresia, welcome!! At last someone who knows what I'm talking about. We watched Emmerdale and the Strictly Come Dancing final too (I SO wanted Matt to win rather than smarmy old Ramps grrr) but I draw the line at "Deal or No Deal" - there's a lowbrow threshold that even I'm not prepared to cross and Noel Edmonds marks the spot. It's all those ads for sofas that get me, that DFS ad was on literally 100 times a day - you'd think no-one in the U.K. had any furniture.
Thank you. Heard about your blog from a friend of my boyfriend. I guess you could say I heard it on the grapevine. As for ballroom dancing, Rampakash had more of a wiggle in his tush than the rugby man, so I think the best man won really. As for "Deal or no deal", yes, I am in complete and utter agreement with you!!! Yes, I did see the numerous DFS adverts. Did you see the look of some of the sofas!
Quality Street has become international Christmas fare. We had it here in Canada... though I ate them with oodles of pumpkin pie, bumbleberry pie and record breaking amounts of mash.
Nice to see what you got for Christmas... you've still got one more pressie coming your way!
Hello darlin' - I was reading about your Christmas Ducks, they sound FANTASTIC. Another present, oooh lovely - is it a muff? ;D And you too still have un petit cadeau qui t'attend :) (Have just reread that and realised that whole bit sounds rather saucy, like I'm going to jump starkers out of a cake or summink (Plan B, of course).
I'd pay to see you jump starkers out of a cardboard cake... as I'm sure many other would... and I'm not being SAUCY! Actually, I'd love to see anyone I know jump starkers out of a cake.
Post a Comment