Brightly shone the moon that night, tho’ the frost was cruel, When a poor man came in sight gath’ring winter fuel.
Unlike me to use a Christmas Carol to usher in a newsletter, but it’s that time of year and by Dickens I will. Bah humbug, enough festive spirit, I should be skiing in my FagBag, we’ve all moaned it’s come round too quickly again. Sign of old age? I should have organised my time better. Today I broke a habit of many years standing, and worked, so great was the last minute demand. Michael (Perseus) was on hand to collect details of his latest fitness routine, he’s going to work in Philadelphia and then sun himself in Miami. Apparently Philadelphia is great on crackers, I rest my case! Goodness the services we provide for our friends. Although the sign on the door said Closed, I was here dispensing good cheer through gritted teeth, but I finished at three and wandered into the centre of town. What a pretty city London can be when the hysteria of Christmas shopping has subsided. Even a wander round Winter Wonderland went by without the usual crush. This year it is enormous, and yet why did I go? Well I went to buy Emi ‘Kurtos Kalacs’. She’s gone to see her parents and won’t be back until London’s only source of these cakes has long gone. So I thought something for the freezer for when she returns as thanks for all her hard work on the projects.
Kortos
On occasions the sending of a greeting or good wishes for the festive season can prove amusing. I have received three such messages from people with iPhones with the same typo, and apologies if I have sent a similar message. Now I suppose it depends on the size of your digits, but as I have done the same thing myself, and there is certainly nothing huge about my digits. Oh, stop sniggering! Well the M is too close to the delete button. All of a sudden ‘I hope you have a Great Xmas’; has become ‘I hope you have a Great As’! Yes, I know I do, however I have to say that I didn’t think any of you went to the same gym as me, but then you will know that all the hard work is worth it. Thanks to OT, Neil (trainer not tattooist) and me.
Now talking of Neil the tattooist, he is jet lagged, but back on Planet Ibiza after a whirlwind tour of Japan with superstar DJ David Morales. Scratch has missed him and Eugene is there to get him back into the swing of party, party. He’s been busy whilst he was away. I have struggled to open the door of the shop recently because of the deliveries of a veritable menagerie of stuffed animals, skeletons and the like, that I will forward to him like Noah, two by two; once his personal zoo is organised.
Great As
Nothing has stopped my birthday celebrations from continuing, not even Rohypnol, but that’s another story and not for the newsletter. If I could only remember what happened. Damian asked me over breakfast the other morning, and wanted to know how I was managing to keep them going this long? Stamina, dear boy, stamina; or that I am yet to sober up could be the answer, just as the birthday celebrations have morphed into full on Christmas Party season. He should complain, all he is drinking is Krug, lunching at London’s finest and then slumming at The Wolseley with me for breakfast, but that could never be described as slumming it.
A friend also asked me why my life was so busy, busy, busy. I had to explain that if she only reads the newsletters, she gets my whole month condensed into a couple of sheets of A4. I know she achieves that every day, so Auntie Y, have a wonderful Christmas with the family, and those of you with families who have been kind enough to wonder at my excesses; you have my complete admiration. I also share the same admiration with those of you who live their lives like me, so goodwill and peace to all men, and women.
There always things that are unforgettable during the year; some for their happiness, some for their beauty and others that we prefer to forget. One of my favourites of this year have been the sunsets whether I was in Ibiza, Florence, Somerset or most memorable and surprisingly London; every time there has been a sunset which was visible, it has been remarkable thing of beauty.
As someone, (I hasten to add not a customer, for fear of offending anyone) commented on the fact that now we have smartphones, we can take millions of meaningless photos of nothing, and amongst the worst were the millions of sunsets. I happen to disagree. They are memories for someone, and like the newsletter is important to someone, in this case to me, I will post the photos I want.
Thames West
Thames East
Let that, be that!
Every cloud has a silver lining or so the photos appear to show. I love London as much in moments like this, as when darkness falls and the rain is teeming down. People are often amazed when I say I will walk back from the West End across the parks at four in the morning. I always argue that London is often at its most tranquil and beautiful at this time, and there are so many things to see. Recently after a particularly late night strolling through Waterloo Place at 6am, we stumble across the new Jaguar F-Type R being prepared for a commercial. If only it were human, who would it be? Well someone did ask me to sechs the newsletter up a little.
And I would like to add that although I will return home at this hour it has nothing to do with the fact most burglaries take place at this time of day. I rarely wear black and carry a bag. Who do you think I am Coco Chanel? Don’t answer that. She’d have never done with electronic cigarettes! There is one amongst you who must give up tomorrow, be warned I am watching Christopher.
Lastly, I will try to put pen to paper again, so to speak before year’s end. I may recall the year’s highlights, and draw a veil over the low ones, but I would like to finish by remembering a friend. Although Gillian and I have been separated for a couple of years, Mary her mother passed away earlier in December aged 90 years. For the time that Gillian and I had been together she had been like a mother to me. Not to compare her to my own, but as a friend and I know she will be greatly missed by all who knew her, she was the least like a Les Dawson mother-in-law as anyone could be. I will miss her dearly, and I’m pretty sure she wasn’t that keen on Les for that reason. There were other comedians she didn’t see eye to eye with, John Cleese being another. Mind you he’s 6’5” and she was 5’, they were never going to see eye to eye. Her constant companions apart from Gillian, Therese and Dennis following the death of her husband “Den”, had been her cats. Mary never stopped talking, even to the cats, originally George and Colin, and latterly Nobbie and Harvey. She had time for just about everyone and them for her. I will remember her for her ability to send total strangers innocently off the wrong way when asked for directions. Her constant companions apart from Gillian, Therese and Dennis following the death of her husband “Den”, had been her cats. Mary never stopped talking, even to the cats, originally George and Colin, latterly Nobbie and Harvey; who in her eyes and clearly theirs, were humans in cat form. Finally I will remember her limitless love for her three children, who will miss her dearly.
Ever a shy person, Mary was always unsure of having her photo taken. However we all love to be seen in Dior, and I have posted a rare photo of her below either imitating a fly or wearing a pair of huge Dior sunglasses. Apparently they made her feel quite glam and this was a photo she loved. Mary please forgive me.
Jessie (Mary) Crawley
A very Merry Christmas and prosperous New Year to everyone.
