Staying with us last Christmas Ben asked if on Boxing Day we could 'go to see some crap football'. We went to see Evesham FC play Bishop's Cleeve in the (wait for it) Pitching In Southern League Division 1 South in tier eight of the Football League's pyramid. Evesham lost 4-0, victims of too much Christmas cheer and a nippy little forward called Ethan Dunbar.
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| Promotion |
St fell down the stairs at the retired clergy Candlemas lunch. It felt like the sort of thing one of us should do. No injuries. Stairs unharmed and still slippy if tackled in fashionable leather-soled footwear. Liz was safe having rejected the idea of heels to cheer up the bishop. We will keep other medical news brief but a steroid injection for bursitis in the shoulder tendons was the best of St's many 70th birthday presents. Cuffs now rotating. We both got new glasses, a gentle way of saying our eyesight is deteriorating.
Spring and autumn breaks to visit less well known parts of the country took us to Portland (didn't meet Bill) and the Lincolnshire Wolds. The Auction House Restaurant in Louth was astonishingly good and started a love affair with Lebanese wine.
Jon and Carys began a Civil Partnership in April. Grandson Lowen refused to take off his bike helmet for the photos. Decent day out. Lovely two-family lunch.
Went to Croatia. Split? No we went together. Stayed near Omis, an old pirate harbour. Round the next bay be a galleon bound for Hispaniola only it ain't going to get there see because we're going to help ourselves to the silver and gold, a reference that will only be understood by the CPAS youth and children's team from 1996. We wants a training day.
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| Croatia |
Blackburn Diocese did a good ordination. We were supporting our friend Jono. The Blackpool b and b we stayed in had a notice greeting us in the hall. 'Don''t get fake tan on the sheets.' Clearly we were not from their usual customer base. The cathedral service was the best genuinely inclusive ordination we have attended. Didn't get fake tan on the pews.
June saw the leaving do for a much-loved Rector retiring. By August one candidate had been interviewed and appointed. He was installed by Advent. That's the way to do it although the Diocese did threaten us with a two year vacancy if we didn't like their candidate. Who says blackmail can't get you anywhere? Thankfully he's a good 'un.
We had a new garage door fitted when we moved in three years ago. This was because the old one, although robust and distinctly personal to the previous owner's train set, was apparently insecure. The new one was electric. The day of the church fête it stuck in the open position. Garage had to be re-secured with a large sheet over the gap. Luckily there was no train set in the garage BECAUSE WE'RE NOT MAD. After three attempts to fix the door, with a larger and larger bucket full of bits of the mechanism deemed surplus, it was eventually replaced. Been working properly for six weeks now.
Finally got to 'All Things Wild' with Lowen (now four). On the way there we encountered a real fire. Great drama for a child who likes cosplay firefighting. Then some undomesticated locals put on a show of inter-family pushing, shoving and name-calling which was exciting and the staff had to break it up. It's normally dull here, honest. All Things Wild has reptiles, animatronic dinosaurs, dead diggers and a helicopter. Four year old heaven. 'Grandma there's a crocodile in there but you'll be safe because the glass is really thick.' Bless.
Three gigs. Surprise Chef (St and sons), Dead Ringers and Stewart Lee, plus the RSC where we enjoyed Twelfth Night, Much Ado, Measure for Measure and Hamlet (Hail to the Thief) where the Prince of Denmark is haunted by the music of Radiohead as well as all the usual things going on in his head.
Liz painted the garden fences green. This job was made longer by some of the panels blowing down in a storm. She has painted 49 panels so far and the trellis. She says the correct number is 65 but I think we know which of our dynamic duo is the county one.
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| Garden |
At 6.00 a.m. the Earl of Wessex, the Earl of Northumberland and the Earl of Dumfries knocked on the door but I sent them away. They were far too Early.
In local farm shop news Liz continues to volunteer on Wednesdays. It is a good source of local gossip. For tax reasons it would be complicated if they paid her but we get a gift of a decent Christmas tree and some meat products. She likes working in the vegetable chiller in summer. Has considered selling tickets.
Liz also joined a local gym, became a Songbird (choir type thing) and continued to be a valuable member of the church events committee. She gets told off for tidying the kitchen so it's not just St who finds that annoying. Oh, and she caters for Messy Church. For one week a month the answer to 'Where is my <insert name of useful kitchen device>?' is the Village Hall.
And so as the electric garage door of fate turns unstoppably on the rollers of eternity, and the contractors of destiny stir three sugars into the tea of time whilst scratching their heads over the wreckage of a metaphor, it's time for the end of the letter and to go and improve our communication skills. Preferably in a nice hotel near Hastings.
Merry Christmas ya filthy animals.
St and Liz
St and Liz
