On The Horns Of A Dilemma

And So This Is Christmas..

I’ve amused myself in grief today.

Gail was the interior designer – had she been well enough she could have done it professionally – and every Christmas the house was a coordinated colour of light, shimmer, white fur and glamour. I was responsible for the outside; something which every year Lady B disapproved of, insisting it looked as if a ‘ten year old had thrown them out’ and declared to be ‘gopping’ (Geordie for awful) – and that was on a good day!

Frankly, I didn’t much feel liking putting up lights this year but I was on the horns of a dilemma. If I didn’t do it then I could hear Gail say “Oh, so you wait till I’ve gone and then you decide not to be those bloody awful things up!”. So, this morning, watched only by four cats I put up the outside lights. Now, they’re done and I can stand back and hear her say “Fook me, they still look terrible!”

Next, to recreate her genius inside. Wish me luck on this one…

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