This week has been battle royal in monster traffic around the Manchester basin as the word Christmas kicks in people seem to think cars can fly, the only sanity has been my morning run carrying the postal votes to the counting town halls for December 12ths genearal election...the only thing on the winding roads at such a dark hour are drunken witches hanging from bare tree branches chanting Shakespere's Macbeth...in withering fashion...whilst goulish goblins hunt for nuts amongst the fallen leaves...my headlights drew in amazing gasps as each bend curved. Post boxes are now crammed with Christmas cards...rain drops hurtle down my open collar my panties squirm in bending backs heavy sacks and the slamming of post box doors, arms attack me from all sides with can you just in hand fulls of red envelopes...i in my Christmas hat simply smile it is a wonderful four weeks but gladly only once a year and by the time one sits down for Christmas Day dinner only the glass of wine is an interest...on the table and one or two glasses are not enough.
Time tick time to catch the up bound train..
Love and Peace to all whom pass this way..have a blessed week ahead..x
