Round Robin Christmas Letters.

12/14/2005

The weather is changeable, but what is new about that? One day it is wet and misty, the next dry and sunny, but every day is short and pretty cold, although weathergirl Gale tells me that it is milder than normal for this time of year. I have spent the daylight hours working away in the mud, engaged in the great garden project, and in the evening, after my muscle easing bath, I have been busy with a task completely new to me; writing Christmas cards.

For years, as Chairman of Trollaigh Shipping, I have enjoyed the services of some terrific PA’s, organising Christmas card lists, signing and despatching same, has naturally been their responsibility. Now that I have fallen from grace, this task is mine and it is such fun, I have been able to commission a wonderful winter scene of the Tower of Glen Trollaigh in a modest A5 with a bright red ribbon holding an inner double leaf embossed with the family crest and suitable Christian message, much more satisfactory that a boring old super tanker. I have cheated slightly and Mhairi has helped me with computerised addressed envelopes and a digital signature, so all I have had to do is scribble the very occasional person message on a few of the hundred or so that I have dispatched, hopefully they will be falling through your letterboxes next week. I have deliberately avoided the seasonal round-robin letter insert, as you can all catch up with my gossip here. I have always been suspicious of these things where parents heap praises on the efforts of their spotty offspring who may achieve minor degrees at some red brick university and take time out to travel, and then make no mention of the same young paragons being arrested for drunk and disorderly in Piccadilly Circus, and catching VD on the aforementioned travels. The wind has been somewhat taken out of my sails as dearest Dottie has drawn my attention to the background of my otherwise stunning winter scene of the Tower, where there is the small figure of a bloody poacher whose trousers are down and two rosy cheeks are aimed defiantly at the camera. Hey Ho, yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.