Happy New Year!

It’s the last day of the year – hurrah!  I don’t know why I’m so excited, because right now the party mood is distinctly absent due to being a hacking, wheezing, sniffing, nose-blowing, croaking wreck.  Many of us get the lurgy in winter, but I thought I’d been one of the lucky ones and missed it.  Christmas Day and Boxing Day passed in a haze of goodwill (maybe Prosecco had something to do with that) but the moment I opened my eyes on Wednesday morning, my body just knew it was in for a rough ride.
          I’m a firm believer in fresh air and exercise, so the pooch has continued to have her woodland walkies, with me calling her to heel in a voice that sounds like I’d been inhaling helium.  Thank goodness I didn’t splash out on tickets for an event at Leeds Castle.  My sis was very keen we join her and her Other Half and celebrate in style (I even have a new sparkly dress in my wardrobe).  Instead, tonight will comprise a takeaway and raising a glass of Lemsip at midnight while watching the fireworks on the telly.  Whatever you’re doing, I wish you Happy New Year.  Which reminds me.
          On New Year’s Eve, Daniel was in no shape to drive, so he sensibly left his van in the car park and walked home.  As he was wobbling along, he was stopped by a policeman.  ‘What are you doing out here at four o’clock in the morning?’ asked the police officer. ‘I’m on my way to a lecture,’ Daniel replied. ‘And who on earth in their right mind is going to give a lecture in the early hours?’ asked the copper. ‘My wife,’ Daniel slurred…