Christmas Eve 2009
With Old Grumpy taking a break, Grumpette has clandestinely invaded his columnar space to give you an insight to family life at Grumpy Towers over Christmas.
Instead of charades, the game is "hunt the champagne."
Early in the autumn, I picked up a bargain bottle of bubbly at the UK's biggest grocer, intending to stow it away for Christmas.
I squirrelled it away so well from OG, that I've forgotten where I put it, and the Bolly can't be found.
So, when it does turn up, I'll have to pretend it was bought for Wimbledon week.
Christmas decorations at Grumpy Towers are tastefully low key, including what OG calls the "arty farty" willow branches festooned with fairy lights that illuminate the porch.
This involves ousting the six foot umbrella plant that normally stands in the corner, and consigning it, and its massive earthenware pot, to the utility room at the back of the house.
Over the years, this routine move has become more problematic.
The umbrella plant grows apace every spring, becoming heavier in the process.
Every spring, OG is a year older, and not quite the athlete he thought he once was.
In the interest of soothing the male ego, it's the umbrella plant that will have to be cut down to size.
Happy Christmas from Grumpette
back to home page