So much for the “winding down gently before Xmas” pipedream, then.
Look, I thought there was an unwritten code that said: IF you’re one of the poor Buggins’ Turn saps left in the office during Holiday Fortnight then FEAR NOT, because it’s basically about providing Emergency Cover and no one will really care if you alternate between last minute shopping and pissing about on the Internet.
Evidently not. But since I’ve got half an hour to kill while waiting for something to happen on Ye Olde Heritage Mainframe, I thought I’d pop in to wish my remaining reader a Happy Holiday.
But if Work Time has been busy, then it it has been as nothing compared to Leisure Time – which for the past week has meant spending every available waking hour looking after the village blog. Three reasons for this:
1. We’re running an online Advent Calendar, which we’ve augmented with extra pay-per-view windows featuring various villagers in saucy Calendar Boy/Calendar Girl poses. To this end, K has stepped – all too easily, I might say – into the role of Smut Peddler In Chief, wielding his SLR lenses with lethal charm before a parade of willing lovelies. Meanwhile, we’ve been featured in the local paper, and I even gave a jolly interview to the mighty media force that is Ashbourne Community Radio last week.
Perhaps it’s a good job our vicar’s moving on in the new year, as our community’s slow slide into moral degeneracy becomes all the more apparent. But as we’re raising funds for the rebuild of our Memorial Hall, all moral qualms must rightfully be quelled for the greater good…
2. Ah yes, the Memorial Hall. Last week, we received the excellent news that our village has been awarded £500,000 of Big Lottery Fund money to assist with the rebuild – the largest such award in the country from the BLF’s Community Building Programme. Having vaulted that particular hurdle, there’s now the small matter of raising the remaining funds needed to make the architects’ plans a reality. And, er, K is on the Fund Raising Team. So, no pressure then.
3. Oh, and lest we should forget, there’s also the small matter of Tom Chambers from our village (or Strictly Our Tom as we now like to call him) winning this year’s Strictly Come Dancing on Saturday night. Down at the village pub, where the landlady had installed a giant widescreen telly for the season, we all went quite potty with delight – especially when Strictly Our Tom thanked us during his acceptance speech. Grown men were crying! Corks were popping! It were bloody brilliant!
And they say that nothing ever happens in small villages? I don’t think there’s ever been a week quite like it.
On a more personal front, there has been a particularly Exciting New Development in the past few days, but it’s still early days and I don’t want to jinx it by going public prematurely. Ooh, but I’m itching to spill. But I shan’t. God, this is the worst kind of blog post, isn’t it?
Time’s up. As you were. Happy Christmas.
troubled diva 