Peace on earth.....

If you have been reading this blog for a while you will know a few things about me and be able to guess a few things.

Doubtless you will think I love the Xmas, the scramble in the car park, racing round looking for the one available parking space then slotting into it quick before the other guy can select reverse.

Dealing with scrums of shoppers where some years playing as a second row forward is barely any sort of preparation, because at least there is a ref on the rugby field and if someone bites your ear off he will be blasting away on his whistle.

Walking into shops where they may well have one on display on the shelf but they don't have any in stock or likely to get one any time soon and they won't sell you the display one as that would mess up their shelf and they will only tell you this after they have spent 10 minutes entering your most intimate details into their data base which you cued an hour to get to do.

You will just know this is my idea of heaven.  

Or maybe you will think something else.

That all pales into insignificance compared to the other task, chosing a present for the student.

Asked what she wanted, she said: "don't get me anything" in that tone of voice that suggested following her advice might be the gateway to a world of pain.

So of course we have to look at the "ghost of Xmas past"

I have bought her some lovely gifts, a shovel, a jig saw, a steam iron.

I was impressed today when I heard on the radio about this chap who bought his beloved a cement mixer, unfortunately we already have one of those.

 We also have a chainsaw and she has a nice axe, though I really don't think an axe would be a good idea after what she did to me with the steam iron and shovel. 

I am a bit stumped really.

I might buy her a bottle of decent whisky, at least I know she would never hit me with that, well not until it was empty.


R