The world from my window

Well, Delia's ham is in the oven ready for glazing, Mr Grigg's making sweets and James Bond is on the telly. Across the road, the church candles will soon need lighting for Midnight Mass as the village pub fills up on Christmas Eve. We've had the church carol service - a great success - the fish and chip van had a bumper evening last night and the tills have been ringing at the community shop all day. Personally, it's been an amazing year, with unexpected travels and new opportunities turning up left, right and centre. I'm not quite sure how this blog - or my life - will rattle along in 2015 but I will be sure to keep you posted. In the meantime, a merry Christmas to you and yours and a happy, healthy and peaceful new year. Remember, if you wanna do it, do it. If you don't, don't. I was asked to write something to read out at the carol service on Sunday. So I turned to my journal from two years ago when I was home alone in Corfu with Mr Grigg.

The village square is looking very pretty this year. There are lights on Christmas trees outside the houses and holly wreaths on the doors. But this calm and peaceful scene conceals domestic turmoil going on inside.  Couples have almost come to blows about the appropriateness or otherwise of the lights they've chosen. Should they be warm white, ice blue or multi-coloured? The pub looks like something from Las Vegas but we're all delighted because at least it's looking cheerful. And none of the lights is flashing. Which is just as well really, as the landlord's been told off about the Christmas tree above his door. A woman has complained that the tree looks a bit like a... ...well... ...ahem... ...a penis . Between all us villagers, we've seen a few knobs in our time. I'm told some look like parsnips, bananas or even anteaters' noses. But, honestly, a Christmas tree? We're trying to find out who the woman was who complained. We w

In Lush Places, the village square is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. The are festive trees above the houses of doors and a big conifer on the green now has a pretty coat of sparkling lights. Over at the pub, now resplendent with a cheery and professional landlord and landlady and roaring fire (it's three times the place it was a few months ago. It's been dire. We even got to the point where Mr Grigg and I thought about running it ourselves...) the stag's head has a red bauble for a nose and there's tinsel everywhere. There's three words, 'HO' 'HO' and 'HO', on the shelf below the menu boards. And, inevitably, they keep being turned round by the customers when the landlord's not looking to read 'OH' 'OH' 'OH'. And today, colourful, twinkling lights went up on the pub's tree above the door and a string of purple criss-crossed its way along the front wall. Tonight, the ladies from the fish

I'll be posting here soon but, in the meantime, here's a link to my latest post on a new website in which I'm involved. That's about it. Love Maddie x

      The baby of our party to Peru says a huge thanks to Saga Travel, the Telegraph newspaper, our tour manager Jose (what a star), our guides and my fellow travellers. That's about it. Love Maddie x

It's been non-stop on this colourful trip of a lifetime to Peru, which I won in a travel writing competition run by The Telegraph and Saga. You'd think a Saga holiday might be a bit slow for a woman approaching fifty (albeit from the wrong direction). But I don't think I've been on the go so much since a press trip to the Falkand Islands in 1987. I've seen some wonderful things. We've been here, there and everywhere, on dry land and on Lake Titicaca, by plane and by bus and on foot. The sights, sounds, smells, taste and the feel of things has been incredible. There is lots to tell but I'll just let the pictures do the talking.                      There's been sunrises... ...and sunsets. There's been altitude sickness, discovering your fellow travellers know people you know (it's a small world, after all) and a few coca leaves to chew every day. But the best is yet to come. Machu Picch

There's a wedding today in Arequipa, Peru. As in countries the world over, little boys still in nappies dress up as men in stiff suits. Women who should know better squeeze into outfits that should have been left on the hanger in the shop.  There's a family photo before the bride arrives.  Some glamour as one of the bridesmaids turns up.  Small children play with grass clippings while they wait for the service to begin. At last, a classic car pulls up at the church gate. Dad gives his daughter a hand with the train. And then an old lady who was just passing by steps in to help. But the veil won't stay on. Where are those bridesmaids when they're needed? Flirting with the best man and ushers inside. The bride is not impressed. They respond to the bride's call and try to secure the wayward veil. That'll do. The flower girl signals their impending approach. The procession makes its way to the church door as the runaway t