“Alcohol kills brain cells slowly, but that never bothered me because I’m not in a hurry.” ~ Anonymous
I’m not particularly enamoured with shopping, especially the queuing element, but since the convenient introduction of supermarket self-scanning a few years ago, my supermarket shop has become a more efficient and expeditious experience, providing of course that I don’t have a huge trolley full of groceries; however, the most advanced machine to be installed appears to have received some rather unique treatment.
Sheep, like goats, are associated with Christmas in folk tales told across northern Europe and the British Isles. On Christmas eve, these tales report, all sheep face east, bow three times, and are gifted with the power of speech from the stroke of midnight until the rise of the sun.Read more
“On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: Twelve drummers drumming, Eleven pipers piping, Ten lords a leaping …” Stretching the temporal aspect of the season!
Crikey, 33 blokes turning up at your door; wow, talk about overkill!
On the twelfth day of Christmas I took a final backward glance.
A couple of days before Christmas, we drove over to York, and after parking the car at the Park-and-Ride bus terminal on the outskirts of the city, we took the bus into the city centre. Our first stop was to visit the fascinating German Christmas shop where I purchased a Christmas ornament as a gift for son Joss’s new house.
I love the old buildings of York, especially the higgledy-piggledy Christmas shop with its extremely low ceilings; I’m only 5′ 3” but even I managed to bump my head on one low beam upstairs!