bloke moves to france with confused partner and two barking-mad terriers
Thursday, December 25, 2014
I was intending to do a Christmas day bloggeau complete with a few autumn photos but, as usual, what with one thing and another, I sort of ran out of time. Am now just about to watch the Queen's speech on telly before hurtling downstairs to knock up smoked salmon with scrambled eggs followed by chicken with spuds, sprouts, carrots, bread sauce and gravy followed by mince pies, ice cream and lychees. Ooh, it's all go.
Bohemian hermit recluse hiding in the mist-shrouded hills and backwoods of central France; went to art school in the mid-Sixties and never really left; masochistic supporter of Aldershotnil FC; fascinated by the mystery of disappearing odd socks; follically, cosmetically and vertically challenged but horizontally unchallenged, otherwise perfect (it says here); probably one of the luckiest geezers in the whole wide world.