The world from my window

And now the decorations are down, the Christmas tree over the pub door that some woman thought looked like a willy has been dismantled and the discarded trunk and branches of someone else's tree lies on the pavement. It is such an undignified ending for such a previously lauded bit of nature, which stood in the corner of people's front rooms or kitchens and was, for a brief moment in time, more important than the telly. But that's how Christmas is. Once it's over, we're itching to move onwards and upwards, at least I am, grasping at the year ahead like a Chance Card in Monopoly. It's hard writing a blog like this when the madness of the real world shouts loudly all around us. Our own petty problems or comic moments in Lush Places pale into insignificance sometimes. But life goes on, all over the world, and we just have to work hard to get on with it as best we can. And, for those of us who have life and good health, it's our duty to do so. Mustn...

I have just caught the tail end of Celebrity Mastermind. It was won by that smug bastard John Sessions. I knew a number of questions he didn't know, which was very satisfying. But he is too clever by half (whatever that means). He has also started talking in much more of a Scottish accent than he used to than in the days of Whose Line is it Anyway? Is there no beginning to his talents? The TV is being flicked on and off. I am going stir crazy, confined to barracks by a heavy cold. I used to scoff at people who said they had a 'touch of flu' - you've either got it or you haven't. And when flu strikes, you know it. However, this has been really debilitating, annoying and energy-zapping. It really feels like a touch of flu and has wiped me out over Christmas. There used to be a cough medicine in these parts known as Fudge's Firewater. Bottles were restricted to one per household and you had to sign for it. Only one chemist had the recipe and was allowed to sell it....