St Stephen. Slightly better. Merry Christmas.
John, Maria and JPH joined us. I phoned Sarah and told her I'm having it off until after the New Year (HaHa).
Sod the New Year's Honours list. Besides, who cares if Arthur Worsley becomes a CH or whether Dame Vera Lynn gets the George Cross? I don't.
Good King Wenceslas looked out today, didn't he? But what year? I reckon it must have been in the 1000s.
Forgive the abominable handwriting. It isn't anything to do with booze. Someone has hidden my trusty fountain pen and no end of reckless searching has found it. So, I'm reduced to this scrawl with what is commonly styled a felt~tipped pen.
-=-
