Happy Christmas ? Retired Martin been visited by the three (3) ghosts of Christmas overnight ?
No, but it’s in my contract that unless I comply with social convention at least three times a year my blog gets blacklisted. Expect a post celebrating BRAPA’s birthday, whenever that is.
We have our boys over on Christmas Day, before carting them around two sets of grandparents, one of whom will interrogated them about girlfriends.
We don’t do Christmas. No cards, no presents, no singing of “Felice Navidad”, no Christmas jumpers, no Monopoly, no watching of Die Hard. We’re going to hell.
Yesterday we collected Matthew from a deserted Manchester and he popped into Kelham with James for a few pints.
At 19:08 I received a frantic phone call.
“Dad, come and join us in Alder. They’ve got Bass.”
“Did you say Bass ?”.
“The one with the red triangle ?”.
The map says 20 minutes; it took me 13.
I rushed to the bar.
Oh well, it was keg (top)*. Can’t expect a 21 year old Pravha drinker to know the difference.
It’s the thought that counts.
At least they’ll still be seen with the Dad as he approaches middle age.
In the year we lost Naomi Judd, leave you the best track with the greatest Christmas album of all;
*Mind you, keg Bass is rare enough. And no, I didn’t have it.