Saturday 6th December
Violet-Elizabeth and I decided to go to the Christmas Bazaar at the Village Hall. Spencer and Marcus didn’t fancy it, so I tasked them with selecting our Christmas tree from the Paulet-Halt estate whilst we were out. I left strict instructions about the size and shape of tree required, and left Spencer searching for his axe. I must admit to having some anxiety about leaving my husband with this important job, as in previous years he have proved himself less than trustworthy in this department. Take last year for example, when he produced a rather wispy specimen with a huge prong on the top.
Anyway, Spencer drove us round to the Village Hall in the Bentley, and dropped us off. I was rather taken with the notice on the door that said “win your Christmas Dinner”. It transpired that there was a raffle and the prizes were a turkey donated by Glayshers, our local butchers, a Christmas cake donated by Olivers bakery and some pink bubbly donated by The Crown. Needless to say, I bought a number of tickets in eager anticipation of winning this superb prize. Violet-Elizabeth and I spent an enjoyable hour looking around the various stalls, and I even managed to get some very attractive Christmas gifts for the staff at the Manor as well as some lovely decorations. We visited the Beadle book stall and I bought a number of very reasonable paperbacks to keep Spencer out of mischief in the long dark winter evenings. Violet-Elizabeth bought some presents for her school chums, and we had a cup of tea and a delicious cream scone from the tea stall. We had a word with Father Andrew who unfortunately had lost his voice. He listened very patiently while I told him about my plans for my Silver Wedding next year. Next we moved on upstairs to Paula Cosgrove’s florist stall. We admired the wreaths and flower arrangements, and I made a mental note to order some to decorate the Manor in time for Christmas.
By this time it was time to meet Spencer in the car park. As usual, he kept us waiting. His excuse this time was, of course, that the job he had been set had taken longer than anticipated. Spencer was in an unusually jovial mood. He ventured to say that he thought we would be pleased at what he and Marcus had achieved in the time we had been at the Bazaar. I took a quick glance at Marcus who was smirking in the front passenger seat. I suddenly began to have a serious sense of foreboding. As we made our way up the drive to the Manor, I noticed that the fine avenue of trees that leads up to the house looked somewhat depleted. Spencer was looking strangely pleased with himself as he opened the front door. My worst fears were realised - there in the hall was the most enormous Christmas tree imaginable. I demanded to know whether the tree had come from the Manor gardens. Spencer replied that with the credit crunch, he thought that at least I would be pleased that he was saving a lot of money. Give him his due, at least it wasn’t a wispy one with a big prong on the top. However, as I pointed out, it had taken at least 120 years to grow. Spencer always has an answer for everything and this time he replied that he had already planted a replacement and that our great-great grandchildren would have a ready made Christmas tree when the time came.
You see what I have to put up with!