Something and nothing

For those who have been eager to know the outcome of the abandoned car in the village, it was a bit of 'something and nothing' I'm afraid. I am reliably informed that the driver was spotted driving away, but we don't know who they were as the eye-witness, behind the post office counter, was serving a customer at the time.  They weren't 'local' (which was said with a slight sniff) and all that was seen was a mysterious shoulder.

It rather reminds me of another 'something and nothing' time when the burglar alarm in the post office went off in the early hours of the morning. I jumped out of bed in order to spy on the dastardly culprits from behind a crack in the curtain (I could see myself being quoted on Crimewatch) only to watch a completely deserted lane and then the alarm stopped. Apparently, it was a large spider that triggered the alarm off!

The whole village is turning out for  bit of 'something and nothing' tomorrow evening. We all gather for the Christmas tree lights to be turned on. The sea scouts are selling hotdogs, the hardware store offers free sausage rolls and mince pies (next to the bird food and pet food) someone heats up the mulled wine and we sort of warble a few carols along with the brass band. The smithy fires up his furnace and the potter and printmaker open their doors. The main excitement is that Cornwall's very own Father Christmas lives in the village (in a bungalow). He looks and sounds exactly like Captain Birdseye and each year grooms his super white beard and does the whole 'ho, ho' act.

I am just a little sad that this is the first year that I have no children (grown-up ones even) to share in general lighting-up jollity. The pull of a free ticket to see Pixie Lott in Plymouth is rather stronger than Father Christmas. Oh well, we have our twinkle lights ready on the tree outside the cottage and the Parish Church has set up the stable scene on the green next to us (Wilf will have to wee somewhere else for a month). I daresay we will squeeze into the Red Lion and strike up a chat and join in the banter.

My Christmas tree this year is a branch from Sancreed (from my three weeks on the moor). A farmer was cutting down a dangerous overhang, in the wind, so I stuffed a bit into the Landrover. It has lots of lovely lichen on it and with some lights and creative sparkly things will satisfy my 'child within'. If it was in an art gallery I would entitle it a 'bit of something and nothing'.