h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hi Sho, and Moondancer,

So the most popular answer to Santa's question is 'my father'. You are quite right Sho, it does bring tears to the eyes and more than that, it is a timely reminder about what Christmas means and is supposed to represent, the family and children. My friend's little girl, who is in England at the moment with her mother, I know that on Christmas morning she will be weeping because her daddy isn't there. On the other hand, I have just discovered that another friend of mine has been divorced, so maybe he could have told Santa that what he wanted for Christmas, and the New Year, wa shis little girl and his little boy.

Anyway, to turn to more cheerful topics. Sho, I can't believe that you ave ganged up with Moondancer and the Greek slaves. Well, I hope that Santa brings you both your wish, but don't say I didn't warn you that the Greeks are right at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to giving really good foot. Now, as it so happens, my Beloved was a trifle footsore last weekend and invited me to perform the foot massage for her. I think it is right and proper that further details remain confidential to the parties, but it will not break and rules of protocol if I tell you that there was a lot of oohing and aahing and 'Gee that's good' - and that was just from me.

Have to go, catch you shortly, take care,

Walter

Hi Sho, and Moondancer,

So the most popular answer to Santa's question is 'my father'. You are quite right Sho, it does bring tears to the eyes and more than that, it is a timely reminder about what Christmas means and is supposed to represent, the family and children. My friend's little girl, who is in England at the moment with her mother, I know that on Christmas morning she will be weeping because her daddy isn't there. On the other hand, I have just discovered that another friend of mine has been divorced, so maybe he could have told Santa that what he wanted for Christmas, and the New Year, wa shis little girl and his little boy.

Anyway, to turn to more cheerful topics. Sho, I can't believe that you have ganged up with Moondancer and the Greek slaves. Well, I hope that Santa brings you both your wish, but don't say I didn't warn you that the Greeks are right at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to giving really good foot. Now, as it so happens, my Beloved was a trifle footsore last weekend and invited me to perform the foot massage for her. I think it is right and proper that further details remain confidential to the parties, but it will not break and rules of protocol if I tell you that there was a lot of oohing and aahing and 'Gee that's good' - and that was just from me.

Have to go, catch you shortly, take care,

Walter

Hi Sho, and Moondancer,

So the most popular answer to Santa's question is 'my father'. You are quite right Sho, it does bring tears to the eyes and more than that, it is a timely reminder about what Christmas means and is supposed to represent, the family and children. My friend's little girl, who is in England at the moment with her mother, I know that on Christmas morning she will be weeping because her daddy isn't there. On the other hand, I have just discovered that another friend of mine has been divorced, so maybe he could have told Santa that what he wanted for Christmas, and the New Year, wa shis little girl and his little boy.

Anyway, to turn to more cheerful topics. Sho, I can't believe that you have ganged up with Moondancer and the Greek slaves. Well, I hope that Santa brings you both your wish, but don't say I didn't warn you that the Greeks are right at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to giving really good foot. Now, as it so happens, my Beloved was a trifle footsore last weekend and invited me to perform the foot massage for her. I think it is right and proper that further details remain confidential to the parties, but it will not break any rules of protocol if I tell you that there was a lot of oohing and aahing and 'Gee that's good' - and that was just from me.

Have to go, catch you shortly, take care,

Walter

Postscript:

I kept pressing the 'send message' button and nothing happened, except that it obviously did which is why, like the good public servant that I am, my communication is in triplicate. I do wish h2g2 would fix whatever bugs are hexing this site at the moment.

Good Morning / Evening / whatevertimeitiswhereyou are....

I get so depressed at Christmas. First it's so dark and dreary, and no snow just rain and cold. And then that Band Aid record on the radio constantly, to remind us that really we don't have anything to be depressed about. Then the thing about the kids and their dads (although my friend's daughter asked that her daddy stopped visiting because he made mummy sad - but he's been away since she was 3 months old anyway). And now The Dear Husband (dh) has crashed my car (he and the kids are ok) but the repairs are more than the dratted thing is worth, and we have just spent a fortune on a new kitchen (because we're moving in January)..... OH, sorry, shouldn't put a damper on everything..... I can't wait to see Nr. 1 daughter's face when she sees what we bought her for Christmas. (it's a "car seat" for her baby doll - and her life can't go on without one, apparently) Nr. 2 daughter wants some long chews (lollies, for you Australian types!) but not chocolate (doesn't like it, which leads me to conclude that she was switched in the hospital shortly after birth!)

I really could have done with a Greek slave yesterday... still I had to make do with the tv and some And, Walter, I think that was too many details already, I'm green with envy - although to be fair to dh he did try to "do" my feet once, but I'm very ticklish, I ended up kicking him in the nose.

*Shameless plug*
Don't forget to look at the Christmas poems in http://www.h2g2.com/thepost - and then decide mine is best and vote for it!!!!
*end of Shamless plug*

What else is new? Hmmmmmmm. Nothing. My parents are celebrating being married 36 years, and even now have not admitted to me that I was one year old at the time (atlhough at least they have stopped adding 2 years to their years of marriage tally!) Very bohemian! Drat - that gives away my age. Although, as we all know in the female galaxy which we inhabit parallel to this one, I am 29. Or, sometimes, 7 (depending if I have Lego to play with or not)

Since I have nothing new, edifying or even educated to say today, I will sign off with the information that 20 minutes before my biggest customer is due to arrive, and 30 minutes away from the nearest shop, I have snagged a huge hole in the knee of my (new on this morning) tights. And, of course, being a good (male) customer, I'm wearing an above the knee skirt. Life, gets you down and then kicks you in the teeth. Don't talk to me about life!

Merry Christmas, and all you wish yourselves in 2001 (the real new millennium?)
Sho

Hi Sho,

Okay, first things first: I read and voted for your poem. I did not read all of the others as there didn't seem to be any point seeing how good yours was.

Hey, no matter how grey and dark and dank and damp and dreary and depressing things seem, it can certainly get worse. But not, fortunately, in your case. My soothsayer sooths that you and your family are going to have a simply spiffing Christmas, one of the most memorably spiffing on record. Now, while I don't dare and would not anyway gainsay the sayer of sooth, I think that a REALLY smashing Christmas must be underpinned by dark and dreary weather. Believe me, it is not possible to do Xmas in temperatures of 32 degrees, not if you value the charm and tradition and cosiness and spirit (if not spirituality) of Yuletide. Dear Husband prangs the jalopy, but the children and he escape any harm: you are already blessed. Hard to find the money for repairs? Well, sit in your brand spanking new kitchen and run your hand over the nice smooth bits.

So, your dark secret is revealed - you were one year old when your parents were married. A few years back, after my father died, I found my parents' marriage certificate. They were married four months before I was born (no Sho, I was not born prematurely), so I guess they must have wed because I was on the way, which is a humbling thought. And then I recalled how the year before he died, my father told me of the time he and my mother first 'stepped out' and how they had gone walking in the Colne Valley, near to White Colne church, under a harvest moon, holding hands and just being plain in love. My Dad had never spoken to me about that sort of thing before, and I always figured that it was his way of telling me what my Mother meant to him all those years ago, and maybe the link to me. And if you could have seen the look in his eyes, and heard the pride and love in his voice, as he told me that story .... well, you know what I mean. So Sho, we share something else - we are what used to be commonly called illegitimate, or born and/or conceived out of wedlock. As near as I can tell, I must have been conceived right about now - perhaps Christmas Day itself, or New Year's Day. So, many years ago, quite probably on a dank, depressing, dreary and dark Christmas-time, I was the silver lining for those two lovers under the harvest moon, although at the time they might not quite have regarded me as a silver lining. Or indeed might never have so regarded me.

A gentleman positively will not have noticed the hole in your tights. A cool dude and class chick magnet will rarely if ever take his eyes of the sheila's eyes on first meeting. At worst, he will only perve on you as you leave, which unless you are performing the 'face the front' withdrawal so beloved of royalty, means he can only have seen you from the back and voila! no hole. Of course, over here many people, men and women, have well-tanned legs and don't need or even want to wear stockings/tights etc. Another reason for you to migrate.

To you Sho, and to your Dear Husband, and your two darling children, may Christmas be full of love and joy, and the Beloved and me hope that the first year of the new Millennium will bless you with good health and happiness.


Clive

Hi Walter (or shall I call you Clive, now you've outed yourself?)

(btw: Sho is what I'm called in Real Life by those who love me, everyone else calls me Sheona - which I have finally learned to like)

Hm. Thanks for the compliments on my poem. I've voted for Pink Dandelion's poem, because... well, it's about how we ignore the homeless.

Please pass on my thanks to the Sayer of Sooth. Actually, upon reflection (and having had 48 hours to calm down a bit) the car was an old wreck which wouldn't have passed the next roadworthiness inspection - due in Feburary. So we bought another a little ahead of schedule. That's all. Or rather, we would have had it today if the bumbling idiots at the insurance company hadn't given the dh the wrong documentation (only 3 years out of date) for the registration process. I really enjoyed giving them a telephonic rocket up the bum just now. Please don't think me harsh, they have been messing up the payments for over 1 year now. My kitchen will be delivered on 24th January, installed the next day. I can't wait.

When my parents were married (my Mother had to leave the Air Force because of pregnancy, she met my Father - soldier - in Singapore. When she left the RAF she went back to her working-class northern roots and, by all accounts, had a very hard time from everyone because they didn't believe my Dad would come & marry her. She had the last laugh, of course, because most of her friends and enemies from those days are all long divorced and still there, my parents have moved up in the world and are hanging in there having the time of their lives. I'm very proud of them!) I was in the photos. December wedding, she wore a bright red bouclé suit with fur collar and muff and red stiletto shoes (!) my dad had a crew cut, and looks rather handsome. I wore a blue velvet coat (made from some old curtains) and a white fluffy hat and muff. But the photos stayed in the back of the cupboard until last time I was at home, which I always found a shame, because they're great pictures. I'm so glad times have changed. At my friend's childrens' school (in Germany) her kids are the only ones in a class of 25 whose parents are married! At least they don't have the stigma that used to be attached to that.

I'm quite sure your parents regarded you as much more than a silver lining. How could they not?

I replaced the tights (brand new that morning, of course) and was gratified to see that the woman who came to the meeting with my customer (a very well dressed man) hadn't brushed her longish hair, and had a ladder right up the back of her tights (although she was wearing a longish skirt). Pah! She introduced herself very carefully and pointedly as Dr. whatever, but it's no good being a Dr. if you can't brush your hair. Well-tanned legs. In my dreams. I have never been anything even remotely approching tanned in my life! (reddish hair and freckles and green-eyes - I don't hold out much hope of a tan, ever!) Migrate? I would love to, but also don't want to spend the rest of my 3 score and 10 being referred to as a Whingeing Pom! (I'm doing missionary work here in Germany: trying to persuade them that customer service and having shops open later than 2pm on Saturdays is a Good Thing. It will last more than my lifetime to convince them, however)

And talking about Royalty: did you hear about the report (from Oz, where else) about how the Queen (of England) is starting to speak like a Cockney? Ha ha ha. That merits a ROFL, because that's nearly what I did. That is enough reason, for me, to get rid of her once and for all, I'm a Yorkshire girl (God's own country) after all.

Finally, we will celebrate Yuletide, and the fact that one day is as good as another for spoiling the gruesome twosome (as our daughters are collectively and not always affectionately known) and we might as well do it when everyone else is. But don't get me started on religion, although I have a customer in Israel and she was very surprised when I wished her a Happy Hannukah. But don't get me started on Israel either. Dec 31st is Nr. 1 daughter's 4th birthday, so the party never stops at our house!

Anyway, that is quite enough for me. I can't possibly hope to match your beautiful and eloquent Christmas "message" so I'll just say that I wish you (and The Beloved, and your Princess) everything that you wish for yourselves. And that the Dog doesn't wake you up too early for his run on the beach on the 25th.

love
Sho