I was aware during the night that the wind had picked up a bit - as in it was blowing a gale. I went out quite early to pick up some provisions for dinner and noticed immediately that it was about ten degrees colder than yesterday and another ten degrees colder if you stood in the wind. A car went past covered in snow - clearly it had been cold up in the hills. I ran around town and scooted back home as quick as I could.
On my way back in I checked my post box. It has become a habit of mine to open my post box, situated in the archway underneath the apartments, every time I pass it even though it is usually empty or just full of the local advertising papers, special offers (pork bargains) or local mayoral election manifestos. But today was special because today I received a Christmas card.!
Debrah and I stopped sending Christmas cards on ethical grounds many many years ago and slowly we have stopped receiving them as well, either because other people have taken a similar stance in response to ours or because they have adopted the 'I'm not sending them one if they don't send us one' approach. Either way it means we don't receive many Christmas cards. So it was with great joy and pleasure that I opened our third, and hopefully last, card relating to last Christmas.
It was from Debrah's mum and was correctly addressed and had a stamp on it and everything - so God knows where it has been for the last two months or so - following yonder star no doubt. It had an air mail sticker on it but I could have walked from Kent and still got here quicker. Oh well, in the name of diplomacy and the good old entente cordiale, let's just put it down to the fact that the postal systems in England and France could both be a bit more efficient, without laying blame anywhere.
As ever, from my mother-in-law, the card is very amusing but slightly mad.
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