Many recipients of the frosty village chose to make it after Christmas day, in that lull that occurs before we start breaking New Year’s resolutions.
As a result I am still receiving frosty village images, if you have one to send, please do, it’s never to late to enjoy the limited fame that is available here. In fact it’s absolutely ideal. You’ll be world famous but don’t have to trash a hotel room, falsify your tax return, or be followed on the street by wishers of any complexion.
Here is Sue’s very neat frosty village. I am unable to adjust the size of this photograph, which was in the body of the email. I hope your device will do the job. If you are sending pictorial thingummyjigs and would like them biggerised, please send them as attachments, remembering that my new computer is quite clever but the component located between the chair and the keyboard is the same old same old.
Not only is Sue’s village enviably neat and well organised
so is the sideboard! This is at Christmas, dear reader. Observe the lovely counterpoint of the lit twigs in the vase balancing the lights in the village.
This is clearly the counterpoint to a competent Christmas. I have ambitions to have one of those, but I think it’s unlikely. I rarely get to make up or play with my own cards having made them for everyone else, so if you are hoping to see my frosty village, hope away, and this year, after the family left, I found half the food I intended to give them at the back of a high shelf of the fridge. The holiday round here is spent in a welter of wrapping paper and piles of toys. Happily this year much of the wrapping paper in the shops was recyclable. Decorations are the same ones from up in the loft, plus a couple of new wooden ones this year.
Let’s face it, I am never going to be one of those who put a tree up early in November. I did once do all the buying and packing in October and then wondered what to do with myself in December. It’s deadline fever, nurtured by so many years of magazine writing, that sometimes found me writing a pantomime in a heatwave. In fact, that’s why JaneLaverick.com got started. Artisans I interviewed didn’t get their artwork published until six months after they had sold it and were on to something else. They asked for some means of instant pre-show publicity and what they got was me.
So, on to the new year. Round here we are having a lot of rain. Is this the rain that was so fervently wished for during the heatwave, slow to arrive because of the transport strikes?
What else did you wish for last year? How would you feel if you got a lot of it this year?