December ramblings from the Boy Tom

How are yu all a’gettin on t’gether?

A’time yu get t’read this we’ll be inta the last month o’the year. Cos old mother nature can’t make up har mind about which weather she’s a’goin t’send us but that don’t feel like December at the moment. Still that’ll meake the winter seem shorter when that du arrive.

I’ll tell yu where there is a hot o’hot air, thas up at Westminster. Them who we elected hed two years to sort out this here BREXIT out und what du they du; They wait until they hev nearly got their heads under the water und now they are a’tryin t’see how yu tun the tap orf. If they cant agree amonst them selves then how are they a’goin t’get a good deal for all of us? Them folk in Brussels who they are a’talkin to must recon that their Christmas hev cum early.

The trouble is that don’t help the farmers. They hev got crops a’growin in the field that will be harvested arter BREXIT. A rare lot o’Wheat & Barley git sold und shipped out o’Yarmouth t’other european countries. Will that still happen arter BREXIT? thas the same w’farmers who are keepin sheep. Where will the lambs, that the ewes are already a carrying, be sold. Nobody can g’them an answer.I were a talkin to the man who’s garage were a servicing my car tuther day. That were meade in this country but every day two hundred lorries come acrors the channel t’deliver parts to the factory. What happen if they git held up corse that teake them more time through customs at Dover? Nobody know!

Since I last hed a wud along with yu the Missus und I hev bin on a day trip t’Windsor Castle. We went on a coach what picked us up at Thetford. We got t’the Castle a little afor midday und the driver recon we ha’a be back for him t’leave at half arter four. We ha’a go through security afore we could git inta the castle. The night afor we went the Missus hed a looked at what we could teake inta the Castle und what we were not allowed t’teake. Thas a good job she looked cos one thing yu could not teake were a pen knife. So I ha’a leave mine at home. That din’t feel right a’not heven my old shut knife w’me all day. The Missus told me I’d just ha’a git used to bein with-out it. The first room in the castle we went into were full o’knives, swords und guns. I say t’the Missus “I don’t know why they were a worrying about me bringing my old shut knife w’me” The Missus dint say anything…….she just gi me one o’har looks. We hed a good look round what they call the state rooms, they hed meade a good job of tricolating it up arter that big fire they hed there. When we left I thought the coach driver were a’goin t’hev a job a gettin us round London, I’ll tell yu suffin, he knew some back roads und we din’t git held up once afore we got t’that service area near Stansted Airport.

There were a good turnout of village folk to hear the fella who cum to talk about the Commonwealth War Graves. He giv us a good talk about how that were all started and what they are a’doin today t’maintain the graves. At the Remembrance Sunday Service there were an even better turn out o’folk. When we went outside t’lay the wreaths just a’for eleven o’clock there were the poppies a’strechin down from the top o’the church tower inta the graveyard. There were even one that cum down as far as the War Memorial.

They recon that a knitten them poppies hev got the old village spirit back: Less hope that keep a’goin arter the poppies cum down.

Well them boys up a Carra Rood are hevin a good run at the moment. Thas hope they can keep a’goin till next May.

Even though thas a’gettin near to the turn o’the year things are still a growin in the garden. I hev only just pruned the old roses back und my old hins hev started a’layin agin cos they think thas warm enough for Spring. I am now a’goin t’draw outside und git some old oak leaves swept up for the last time this year.

As this is the last time I will be hevin a word along with yu a’fore the turn of the year the Missus join me in wishing yu all a very Merry Christmas und a Happy New Year.

Fare ye well t’gither und du yu keep a’troshin.

The Boy Tom