Christmas behind bars

Actually, it's just the fence around the allotments, but makes you think... The sun shone brightly during parts of today, the gales had blown out. I topped up the six bird feeders and wrapped some presents while CleanSteve went to Gloucester, for once not in a shower of rain. Then I decided to burn some confidential papers that had been lying around for ages, while photographing the now-iced Christmas cake. They looked as if they would burn for ever, and the house was filling with smoke, so I got them in a metal bucket just as Steve arrived back to see me carrying a flaming bucket and advising him not to use the dining room at all as I had just washed the floor!

The papers burned safely outside, but the house and my hair are still a bit smoke-smelling. I had just enough time to put away the enormous amounts of shopping; and heat up some soup before it was time to go to Holy Trinity, my nearest church, to the childrens' ceremony. It was cute, though there doesn't seem to be a a real donkey any more...The vicar is a hip, slim young guy who was wearing black jeans and not so much a dog collar as studded belt resembling the other kind of dog collar!

I'd been planning to blip the Christingle, the orange studded with sweets and a candle, that was given to us all at the service, but this sky won the day. (By the way, when they gave out the Christingles and the candles were lit, and the lights were put out in the church, I was surprised to see people taking phone-photos of their kids! I didn't think it was the done thing to take photos in church, but that may just show how often I go....

I walked home via Horns Road and the allotments, and in the sky I saw a vast cloud, an angel's wing swooping over Rodborough. My camera has no true manual setting, so I went to the slow shutter speed/background illuminations scene mode, and sadly, most of the shots came out blurry. So. no giant wing, but this is Wave Hill, the house formerly owned by Alastair Hignell of Higgy's heroes fame, and the view towards Stroud town and the suburb of Rodborough. I loved the twinkling lights.

Finally, Merry Christmas to all blippers who celebrate, especially those in trouble or distress, as so many are this year, and to those in the Southern Hemisphere who have already awoken to bulging stockings...