A surfeit of wind jokes

Another day like yesterday and the tour brochures will be coming out. Rain and wind, the latter probably as much to do with beer as low pressure, were as about unpleasant as it gets in the UK . But things livened up in the evening with the arrival of Sprog 2 back from University for Christmas. The term ended a week ago, but it seems it was necessary for her to divert to France for a week on her way home from London. Frankly, I wish it had been me for the most part spending some time in sunny Provence, except for the bit where she sleeps with her boyfriend. That is something I could easily do without.

The masochist in me had me sitting up until 2.30 in the morning to watch the almost certain disappearance of the Ashes to a very chirpy and irritating Australian cricket team. At the time of writing though, England are at last showing a bit of fight although almost certainly too late to hang on to the urn. I spent the hours before the final day of the third test started by catching up on the Sunday Times which quoted Clement Freud. He was always good for a one liner and once said something along the lines of giving up drinking, good food and loving did not make you live longer, it just seemed like it. It is a quote that is dear to my heart.

So Sprog 2 and That Nice Lady Decorator are going to Brighton today to do some Christmas shopping. Retail therapy has been raised to a new higher art form when they get together, but there is a silver lining; I don’t have to go with them. So I shall be left to my own devices for the day. What bliss!

Mucky scrabble

Whilst searching my phone to find a picture for today’s column, I stumbled across this one. It is a photo I took on Sunday at the Kings Arms and was the actual scrabble board of a game in progress after a bit if a liquid lunch between a young man and woman. It is not staged. I thought the word “fannywind” was inspired but think if it was played against me I may have challenged it.

Already I can sense the big wind down before Christmas is beginning to start. Telephone calls not returned, recorded messages saying that the office Christmas party has closed the office, but one organisation is still working all the way up to Christmas to ensure anyone with a foreign exchange need can be saved from the voracious grasp of their banks. I am talking about those fine fellows at Currencies Direct.

Of course my mind is seldom diverted from anything except work, oh, and the appreciation of leisure, good wine, good beer, cricket, golf, tennis and good food. So not much work then. I think the thing is about work, and this is something I have long argued; if one works at the intensity that I do, then one does not have to do a full day.

After an attempted double bill diet day today (I say attempted but there is a decent chance Sprog 2 will demand a feed at a local hostelrie, which will be a provocation too far), we are set for a visit by my favourite aunt, Pam. Still able to strike fear into your heart with a withering look despite her 86 years, she is as sharp as a knife and often the last to bed. We have in mind to go tomorrow tonight to The Bridge at Amberley for their Chestnuts and Carols event, where, unsurprisingly, we may expect to eat roasted chestnuts and sing Christmas carols. However, as it is an event staged largely outside, and the weather forecast made mention of 80 miles per hour winds and rain, I suspect that might be a Bridge to far. Don’t you just love it when a cliche just kicks in like that?

Chris France
@Valbonne_News