Mummers the word at Christmas time

It's just three days to go and there are boxes of Christmas decorations in our hallway and cards still not delivered. It is freezing cold, it snowed on Sunday and we are running out of heating oil. I have just had a row with Mr Grigg, my credit card statement has come through and yet again one of my clients is having difficulty in paying me.

Happy blooming Christmas!

But we are, at least, in the festive spirit thanks to Mr and Mrs Champagne-Charlie who had a jolly, booze-filled open house on Sunday, and Mr Loggins and his band of merry mummers, who entertained us all in our village hall on Saturday night. The mummers play is from ages past. It's a simple tale of good and evil, death and rebirth, comedy and magic, hard to explain but great to watch. A clip from an outside performance in My Kind of Town gives you a flavour.

The clip doesn't show you the best character, a telepathic pony that excels at hunting out naughty children. A friend of mine from Australia was sitting at the front with her jet-lagged eight-year-old. The boy soon woke up when the sinister pony glared around the room and then nuzzled up to the sleeping child.


You wouldn't think a simple thing made out of wood and a hessian sack could be so scary.

Or the doctor, with his cure-all that raises knights from the dead, so funny.


You really had to be there.

I was honoured to be asked as the lady of the house to tie the bow on the holly bough, thus bringing the play to a rousing close.

So here's to a very merry (of course), happy and healthy and peaceful Christmas, if it is possible to have all of those at once. God bless.

That's about it

Love Maddie x