Just like Alice, I am off to Wonderland tomorrow.
Mind you, Alice, if I remember rightly, fell down a rabbit hole; I, for my part, am travelling on the 9.30 a.m. train
from Durrington on Sea to Victoria.
I have been invited to join the Middle of the Darling Daughters and her family (which includes, as regular readers will know, Young Faris and The Twinkles) on a visit to
Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Well, that was the first plan but the M of the DDs is quite a one for filling every day with Maximum Fun for her Trio - so now we are also taking in Hamleys, that Toy Emporium par excellence, and the Disney Superstore, where
we will doubtless rub up against the Mighty Mouse. We will head to Hyde Park, just as the skies grow dark and the lights start twinkling. It will be magical.
It is quite likely that I will be so overcome by
Sheer Sparkle by the end of the day that I shall be forced to hand over the writing of tomorrow's Daily Blog to Faris, he of the unusually mature way with words for one so young and a great many Opinions to which he will enjoy giving voice. I am sure you can't
I have only been to Hamley's once before, many years ago. The one thing which has remained firmly embedded in my memory from that visit was the fact that the cloakroom attendants actually wiped over
the loo seats before one took one's seat on "the throne." Brought up by parents with strong egalitarian principles, this struck me as the most extreme display of servility. I sincerely hope it doesn't happen any more - I shall certainly test out the facilities
to make sure.
I am removing a single helping of Boeuf Bourgignon from the freezer in readiness for Mr B's dinner tomorrow; I imagine we will be eating out somewhere? Hopefully I won't be affected, as poor
Alice was, obeying the instructions to "Eat Me" and "Drink Me." I suppose I wouldn't mind shrinking a bit but I certainly don't want to expand. Not now, not as we head into the next few days of Gastronomic Delight, followed inexorably by Expanding Waistlines.
With a full day out tomorrow, I rather needed to complete all my Christmas preparations by Close of Play today. I have been trotting about like Alice's White Rabbit muttering "I'm late, I'm late...." My Boy texted me
to say that he had placed an order with Argos for presents for two of my (Not So Little) Welsh Boys and all I needed to do was to collect from the store in town some time today. Unfortunately, all the systems were down at our local store, such that a long
(and amazingly good-tempered) queue snaked all round the store and out of the front door. An obliging shop assistant said he would extend my collection date if I wanted to come back another day but, as I explained (more in sorrow than in anger) I don't have
any other days.
When I finally reached the front of the queue half an hour later, a sweetly apologetic assistant checked my order number and asked me to confirm what I was buying. Having not been given any
such details by my son, I stood there with a helpless grin on my face, looking as gormless as the Cheshire Cat, just before he disappears. I collected my wits sufficiently to stutter: "I'm sure that's right," before taking up my place awaiting Order Number
610 to arrive at Collection Point A.
All this meant I was a trifle late arriving at The Happy Teapot, where eight of us were gathered to plot out a course of action for a local campaign against what we see
as a Sorry Miscarriage of Justice. Maybe it was because we were meeting in The Happy Teapot, but I felt as if I had arrived at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party. I am not sure whether I was Alice, the March Hare or, indeed, the Mad Hatter himself. Feelings were running
high but fortunately we all kept to the same seats and nobody drowned a dormouse in the course of our discussions. At least, not that I saw.
"Come as early as you can!" the Middle of the Darling Daughters
exhorts me. I will do my best, I tell her. It has to be just the best way to spend the day before Christmas Eve and the weather forecaster says it will be a cold, bright day. As I write, I am ignoring dark looks from Mr B (who is trying to answer at least
a couple of questions on University Challenge) and humming:
"Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?
In the lane, snow is glistening.
A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight
Walking in a Winter Wonderland."
It's beginning to feel even more like Christmas...