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Showing posts from December, 2004

From the Post Box to YOU!

Royal Mail provide a new Premium Service in London. You put your package in the Post Box, and five days later they deliver it - not to the addressee - but back to you. What could they possibly come up with to top THAT for service? I arrived home on Tuesday and as I made my way up the stairs, Monica sang out that I was a lucky girl - I had a parcel. I caught sight of the parcel and it looked all too familiar – you see it was Alicia's Christmas present, posted on Friday for Perth. I know for a fact that at least one of it's accompanying parcels actually reached Perth on the same day. I stared, I trembled and I unleashed a display of anger and swearing that had Monica leaping out of her skin. She watched me stride around the house calling into question the parentage and intelligence of all Royal Mail workers and I think she was shocked at the outburst. Who knows what I did wrong! On the front of the envelope – structurally the front, the side with the Royal Mail stamp

Not a creature was stirring, just a girl with a pen

It's Christmas and I haven't seen family and friends for about 16 months. This means I have a lot of Christmas Cards to send. If you haven't heard from me for a while, it is probably because I have been closeted away writing, addressing, wrapping and posting. This is just the Christmas Card collection for Perth - this is not including about 10 more individuals, presents for the best friends and immediate family, and certainly not the presents and cards for London. The 50 odd cards in the photo, with at least 30 more to go, are keeping me awake at night when I should be sleeping to tackle the next day of writing. But my goodness they are worth it! I would not be as happy as I am in London without the constant contact from home. The presents, the photos, the Cherry Ripes, the SMS's, the phonecalls. So thank you, all of you, for being so very good at keeping in contact. I would rather be driven crazy by the need to get something sent to everyone than be relaxed a

We interrupt this transmission ...

A short story, starring Claire and Jerome in their younger years - Baby gorillas Two small brown heads are bent over in concentration, four small hands are engaged in cutting, writing and ripping up sticky tape and two darting sets of eyes are keeping an eagle eye out for the presence of MUM . You see, the Naughty Club was being created, and the entire reason for the Naughty Club was to facilitate real and tangible rebellion by a 4 year old and a 3 year old against the tyranny of good behaviour as expected by MUM . In stealth, and very limited legibility, the Naughty Club membership cards were cut out, inscribed with secret symbols (lost now to your reporter) and 'laminated' with large amounts of sticky tape. The inaugural meeting was arranged and the current members of one of the newest radical movements of 1985 split up to try and allay suspicion and confound the ever watchful eyes of MUM . One of MUM 's great weaknesses was that she was old and tired and need