I HAD A MAN'S COLD.
November departed and December started and there was I, completely out of it all.
I had a man's cold again.
It started with razor blades in the throat and rapidly became the runny, shivery, decidedly life-threatening, probably-flu-despite-the-flu-jab, could-even-be-pneumonia, multi-handkerchief-filler that only a man suffers.
It could not in any way be likened to the get-on-with-it-it's-nothing-compared-to-having-a-baby sort of one-hanky-snuffle instantly dismissed by a woman.
I was stoical of course.
Well, experience counts in these near-death situations.
And my Leader, bless 'er, refrained from any but sympathetic noises.
Not a single birth giving comparison was heard.
I do love that woman.
CRANFORD IS THE VERY BEST. (BBC1 - Sundays)
Just knew it would be.
Brilliant actors have arrived, done their acting bit and gone. There has not been a flaw.
We just sit back and let it wash over us..
So much costume drama produced for television in this country is without equal. We may not do much in the sporting world but nowhere else in the universe can compete with our richness of acting talent, technical know-how and inspired television direction.
Nor has any other country such a wonderful list of long-departed writers whose work could have been written for the medium.
Eschew false modesty.
Cranford is costume drama at its very best.
NCIS. (Five - Fridays)
Well, it's back. Same frightening Middle Eastern villains, same daft sort of plot (only Spooks can compete in that department), same Leroy Jethro Gibbs (Mark Harmon) who has acquired a badly rehearsed acting haircut and a general appearance of one auditioning for Ben Gunn in the pantomime version of Treasure Island.
Great stuff.
Watch this space.
REBUS. (ITV1)
Series 5 ended with the typical "let's finish Rebus" characters failing to finish Rebus. Ken Stott (despite the jaundiced views of the TV editor in my ultimate digital TV and radio guide) is still excellent as Rebus. So is Claire Price as DS Siobhan Clarke and Jennifer Black as DCS Gill Templar.
I think it would be a pity if it just faded away now.
Edinburgh's such a pretty place, too.
WHAM! IT'S CHRISTMAS AGAIN.
Well it is, isn't it?
Heck, shops and garden centres have been flogging Santa stuff around here since September. You get so used to it you lose sight of what it's all about until - wham! - it's under a fortnight away and barely a card written or a gift wrapped.
We'll probably do a lot of Compliments of the Season malarkey this year to avoid upsetting atheists, agnostics, skeptics, infidels, heretics, Pyrrhonists, or the sort of religious fundamentalist who takes offence at the naming of a Teddy bear.
I refuse to be disheartened.
The half tree will go up and the Santas will come out and the Happy Christmas sign will face the front door and friends of all religions or no religion will be equally welcome.
So if you're in the neighbourhood, drop by for a drink and a mince pie.
Oh, and in case I forget, or somehow don't get around to it again,
A Merry Christmas to You!
P.S. Grandson Ellis, two years old, has discovered Christmas.
He says it is: "Baby Jesus in 'is 'ouse."
Now that's what I call a description.
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