Let’s conclude my epic trilogy of posts about cars with the news that I am now used to driving the new car, I have called her Hattie, and we are friends now. She doesn’t like loud music, resetting the radio to ‘very quiet’ every time you take your key out of the ignition, and her windscreen wipers are nonsensical, but apart from that we are the best of pals now. A story with a happy ending.
It might be that she just doesn’t like Christmas songs. Some don’t. I understand that. She only has a couple of weeks left to put up with them if so.
And talking about Christmas, on Tuesday I will be starting my kind-of-an-advent-countdown-but-not-really The Twelve Dames of Christmas. Based, as you may have guessed, on a crap pun of the Twelve Days of Christmas, but crucially not taking place on the same days because eleven of the Twelve Days of Christmas take place after Christmas is finished and are only really enjoyed by the type of pedant who likes to wish people a Merry Christmas on the third of January. Even the song is shite. You and I can’t wait until Christmas Day to start celebrating dames. We will be starting this week and be finished by the twenty-second. We’re just modern that way, I guess.
And that’s all my news this week. It’s not all that happened but it is all you are getting.
Oh, OK. I had a compost bin delivered. Are you entertained now?