I happened to pop into our local petrol station this morning, only to discover that they are selling Cadbury’s Creme Eggs already. I told the young girl behind the counter that it’s only 21st December and Jesus hasn’t been born yet but she just looked at me with her dead eyes as if I had asked her to detach her smartphone from her brain. Elle n’avait pas compris, mes amis!
So now that it’s nearly Christmas I have Michael Buble’s Christmas CD playing on repeat non-stop in the Printemps household and also in the car when I go out. Roberto hasn’t said anything but I can tell it’s beginning to get on his nerves a little bit, especially when I sing along at the top of my voice and ask him to dance round the kitchen like the Strictly professionals (speaking of which, it's the Strictly Come Dancing final tonight - yay!).
We had a Christmas card from Roy and his new love. He’s not yet divorced from the long-suffering Wilma but he has already moved in with his new lady friend, Agnes and is planning a big proposal after Christmas, mad fool that he is. I’ve arranged to see Wilma sometime over Christmas to get her side of the story, so I will keep you all posted.
My turkey is in the freezer and the stuffing balls are done so put another log on that fire, Heathcliffe and let’s have a cup of tea.
A la prochaine, chers amis.
Feliz Navidad.
