22/12/2005

Dear Dennis,
Aye, abandon hope all ye who enter here … and all that.
I have now this evening broken up for Christmas. I plan to spend the evening supping Cavonia and Ginger Wine and growling at carol singers who dare darken our step without the complete and seasonal regalia and extended song-sheets. Our boss (a scotchman by trade) gave me a seasonal gift of Tesco Hamper (complete with wicker basket) and a cheeky bottle of Champers for the shed. Has the Sir Rita metered out his punishments / gifts this Christmas? All suitably watered down as they filter through the layers of managers? Do you remember the old days? Our mum (passed now these few years) used to have to get up at three or four in the morning on Christmas to ovenate the Turk – could it have been that the old town gas was not as hot as our new North Sea Gas? The Turks these days don’t seem to need nearly as long to cook. A mere three and a half of your earth hours for our specimen this year. Or maybe “they” have put something in the gas so we don’t spend as long in the kitchen and can sit for longer staring at the telly box absorbing subliminal messages – the bastards. I remember the workmen on street corners with man-holes in the open position and pipes attached, burning off the old town gas on the day of switch-over. Our gang from the neighbourhood (me, Stephen, Byron (father worked at the American airbase in Ruislip), Terence, Simon, Guy, Gordon and Andy) went from street corner to street corner asking each set of workmen “what ya doing mister?” & “when ya gonna light the flame mister?” each time getting the same reply urging us to clear orf! (it was a school day). Strangely, cough medicine didn’t work in those days either – liquafruita we used to be given – useless. How long does it take to defrost a Turkey? I asked how frozen is it? And what are the temperature settings on the hair dryer? Quite useful bits of data to know but I was soon given short shrift any way. Well it turns out that about 36 hours ought to do the trick with an operation to remove the giblets somewhere about half-time. I’ll have the kids on guard to keep the cats at bay (I’m not having that bloody thing in my shed until it stops dripping) …


Story time ... Got to go …
I love you
D