Winter sweeps in across the country dumping a fair amount of snow on Scotland and the North but next to none on Kent and Sussex. We get a quick blast round the Rec, where we meet new 7-year-old Westie on the block, Lily whose Mum seems to be in denial whether she needs a 2nd dog. The human children have apparently been pleading but she was worried Lily wouldn't take to it, so she was pleased to meet us and see us together, and to hear of our Three-ness and now Two-ness and how it works out. I think there may be a pup on the way soon. We will look out for the lady in her bright purple parka. We also meet big ol' ruffty-tuffty Rottweiler Mollie out with my Sister Ellie's Mum's human child and (ha!) she's wearing a coat! Gwaaarrrnnn yer big wuss!).
We head for Hastings and the Pud Lady's house where, out of no-where, the Pud Lady has re-started the pud-making tradition. Snake and Pygmy Puds have been a Saturday tradition in Dad's family since before God was a lad, winter summer, come rain or shine. The only thing that used to displace 'the pud' was if Christmas Day fell on a Saturday, when they had Turkey, and the pud appeared on Boxing Day. Lately though with Stamp-Man becoming ever more elderly and infirm and now finding puds a bit rich and filling, the tradition had lapsed, and hence all these Saturdays when 'we' have been down and cooked the dinner.
But now, gloriously, Pud Lady is back in the chair and the suet is back in favour. Mum and Dad are asked to do only the veg', the wine and the dessert. Right On!
We hear a rumour from the Silverwoods camp, that 4-year-old M is an Angel in the Nativity Play at school (ahhhhh!). He has 2 lines to remember, "You must go to Bethlehem" and "The Baby Jesus has been born in a stable!". A life in Am-Dram and Shakespearean lead parts surely beckons.
Go on M, knock 'em dead!
Deefs (not quite sure she can reconcile M with angelickness)
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