Gnome

'Er's up and about again. Er was well enough to stagger off to church on Christmas Eve, or stagger to the car, anyway. Happy Christmas, Gnome, she says. Blimey, she'll be talking to me snail next. Hobbled down to the river yesterday and chucked some bread at them ducks. Luckily the weather's been mild so the ducks aren't all that bothered.

It's got noisy in that house since they all come back for Christmas. There's someone warbling 'er flute in the attic and one of them lads plays a parp-parp thing in the front bedroom. And if 'er would stick to writing 'er stories and leave that piano alone we'd all be a lot happier. There's plenty of notes in there, blimey, they can't all be wrong ones. Good thing it's winter and they keep the windows shut. 30th December, and she's still playing Good King Blooming Wenceslas.