Back again

Hello, everyone. Yes, it's me, I'm back at the keyboard after an eventful Christmas.

You may have noticed a certain announcement and to those of you who commented, my thanks - I would respond individually to each comment, but insofar as it is possible to feel foolish and embarrassed typing at a computer, twenty-odd thank-yous would do it. So, generally and all round, thank you very much.

We intend to bask in the glory a while before planning further, though already there is a slight contretemps over whether it should be an Elvis or a Freddie Mercury impersonator who does the honours. My preference is for the King, Elle's is for Freddie. I suspect we may have to hire both and have them fight it out.

I addition to gaining a fiancée (!) I have have received much tribute of the more traditional kind of Christmas present, including an Amazon Kindle from my fiancée¹, which already has a number of ebooks on it to keep me happy for some time to come. A couple of other -traditional- books, too. One, a memoir of an Australian WW1 veteran who survived the Somme and the other - my fiancée's² masterpiece of on-line sleuthing, Dracula Returns, by Robert Lory:


 
It is a quite remarkable book that I have been trying to get hold of since I borrowed a copy owned by boroshan about 20 years ago. It is the first in a series featuring the wheelchair-bound detective, Dr Harmon in control of the Prince of the Undead with an on-off switch³

Christmas generally has been very surreal. On Christmas Eve we travelled up to Elle's folks, and after much discussion between the two of us over the pros and cons of timing the announcement, she just blabbed it after taking a gulp of wine. Cue younger sister Alix, stunned and unable to parry for 30 seconds. So that went well enough. The wine was upgraded to bubbly and all went well.

Later in the evening, Furtle Ma and Furtle Junior went to Midnight Mass. Furtle Pa, Furtle and I being heathens, went to a party. This was at about 10.50 and despite my misgivings, it turns out there really was a party. Furtle Pa knocked on the door and produced to bottles of beer from his coat pocket with a cheery cry of "I know the password!". I was a little worried that the place was full of well-to-do middle-aged gaffers watching a wedding video, but they were trying to find some jape in particular before scrambling for some footage of Buddy Rich and some decent drumming before the women folk came back from church. Don't ask. There was a  train set, too.

Anyway, the word leaked out and suddenly all these gaffers were clucking around us like excited hens. Much to Furtle Pa's amusement, our host's daughter produced out of nowhere a couple of bridal magazines for a bemused and slightly horrified Furtle. We then alternated between drinking beer, skipping through bits of wedding DVD, old Ready Steady Go⁴ tapes, Cozy Powell tapes and intermittent interference during which some broadcast carol service kept breaking through, all in a futile attempt to find Buddy Rich...

Christmas Day itself was much more sedate and calm, though well supplied with alcohol and food as you may have expected.

One word of advice: if you see Christmas Pudding flavoured ice cream for sale. Don't buy it.

Later, kids.


¹I am trying the word out for size and generally working this word into the conversation.
²;Told you.
³No, really. He can switch the Count off, if he misbehaves...
⁴60s pop music TV programme

Back again

Hello, everyone. Yes, it's me, I'm back at the keyboard after an eventful Christmas.

You may have noticed a certain announcement and to those of you who commented, my thanks - I would respond individually to each comment, but insofar as it is possible to feel foolish and embarrassed typing at a computer, twenty-odd thank-yous would do it. So, generally and all round, thank you very much.

We intend to bask in the glory a while before planning further, though already there is a slight contretemps over whether it should be an Elvis or a Freddie Mercury impersonator who does the honours. My preference is for the King, Elle's is for Freddie. I suspect we may have to hire both and have them fight it out.

I addition to gaining a fiancée (!) I have have received much tribute of the more traditional kind of Christmas present, including an Amazon Kindle from my fiancée¹, which already has a number of ebooks on it to keep me happy for some time to come. A couple of other -traditional- books, too. One, a memoir of an Australian WW1 veteran who survived the Somme and the other - my fiancée's² masterpiece of on-line sleuthing, Dracula Returns, by Robert Lory:


 
It is a quite remarkable book that I have been trying to get hold of since I borrowed a copy owned by boroshan about 20 years ago. It is the first in a series featuring the wheelchair-bound detective, Dr Harmon in control of the Prince of the Undead with an on-off switch³

Christmas generally has been very surreal. On Christmas Eve we travelled up to Elle's folks, and after much discussion between the two of us over the pros and cons of timing the announcement, she just blabbed it after taking a gulp of wine. Cue younger sister Alix, stunned and unable to parry for 30 seconds. So that went well enough. The wine was upgraded to bubbly and all went well.

Later in the evening, Furtle Ma and Furtle Junior went to Midnight Mass. Furtle Pa, Furtle and I being heathens, went to a party. This was at about 10.50 and despite my misgivings, it turns out there really was a party. Furtle Pa knocked on the door and produced to bottles of beer from his coat pocket with a cheery cry of "I know the password!". I was a little worried that the place was full of well-to-do middle-aged gaffers watching a wedding video, but they were trying to find some jape in particular before scrambling for some footage of Buddy Rich and some decent drumming before the women folk came back from church. Don't ask. There was a  train set, too.

Anyway, the word leaked out and suddenly all these gaffers were clucking around us like excited hens. Much to Furtle Pa's amusement, our host's daughter produced out of nowhere a couple of bridal magazines for a bemused and slightly horrified Furtle. We then alternated between drinking beer, skipping through bits of wedding DVD, old Ready Steady Go⁴ tapes, Cozy Powell tapes and intermittent interference during which some broadcast carol service kept breaking through, all in a futile attempt to find Buddy Rich...

Christmas Day itself was much more sedate and calm, though well supplied with alcohol and food as you may have expected.

One word of advice: if you see Christmas Pudding flavoured ice cream for sale. Don't buy it.

Later, kids.


¹I am trying the word out for size and generally working this word into the conversation.
²;Told you.
³No, really. He can switch the Count off, if he misbehaves...
⁴60s pop music TV programme