Across the pond

Father Christmas arrived in Charmouth last night, and scuppered into his grotto, sensibly, because it was drizzling with rain and the temperature was not much above freezing point. The children queued up to sit on his knee. Meanwhile the locals provided some decent jazz and some of the children were assembled to sing carols under the Christmas tree.

We all had a very good time, thanks to the mulled wine provided by the estate agent and one of the two local hairdressers. The butcher stayed open to offer a barbecue, but you had to choose between hamburgers and – hamburgers. So I went across the road to the caf and had a banger, which is my preferred meal, standing in the rain on a cold night.

 The Post Office and the newsagents stayed open to join in the festivities. And two of the local constabulary were on hand to stop the half dozen cars who wanted to drive down our main street in the middle of all this.

If only I had mastered the new technology I would have provided a movie of the jazz band. But you will have to be satisfied with a couple of still pics. Neither of which is going to win any competions.