The snow's pretty much melted. It was frozen across lawns and fields over Christmas, but the thaw's set in since. Now it's only north-facing rooftops, hedge-sheltered grass and shadowy lanes still speckled with white. But watch out, early-morning drivers. Further snow showers are promised during the early morning rush hour (if only it wasn't a bank holiday and there actually was a rush hour) (if only this wasn't Norfolk and there actually was a rush hour).
Only one copy of Poultry World remains in the village shop, but there are still two copies of Horse and Hound.
The Queen went to church at Sandringham on Christmas morning, yes, the Queen. She was wearing a beige coat with a matching fur hat, and she looked like something out of a Bond film, yes, only older. Some poor reporter from the local paper got sent to cover the event and had to make do with interviewing an eight year-old cub scout called Freedom because the Queen doesn't do interviews, no.
Yesterday's scheduled Ryman League Premier Division match between Lowestoft Town and hosts Bury Town was postponed along with the whole of the Ridgeons League programme and King's Lynn's UCL trip to Holbeach.
We had a lovely Christmas, thankyou. The turkey was huge, as you might expect in Norfolk, although Bernard Matthews never had a hand in ours. Somebody made the cardinal error of buying Guitar Hero for the youngest nephew, which led to hours of tuneless singing and mindless strumming to a variety of US-based thrash metal ditties. Competing for on-screen time was the very latest XboxKinect, which meant forcibly rearranging the furniture so that nobody accidentally reversed into the sofa whilst pretending to throw a javelin. In a complete reversal of accepted sporting prowess, I achieved a record-breaking score on the ten-pin bowling, rather than swerving all my balls into the gutter like I tend to in real life. Eldest nephew spent much of the holiday period attempting to persuade the rest of us to play Monopoly - the generic cardboard-based version - then thrashed us firmly and comprehensively when we finally succumbed. My cracker had a pastel green hat, thanks for asking, and there was a pair of tweezers inside (alas, nobody got one of those red curly fortune-telling fish). If I ever hear that bloody Mariah Carey song again I may scream. And yes, we had a lovely Christmas, thankyou.
There were no trains in Norfolk on Boxing Day, not because there was a strike, but because this is Norfolk. Everybody coped.
Nick Cotton's in panto in King's Lynn this year, he's the villain in Jack and the Beanstalk until Sunday. The panto at the Norwich Theatre Royal is also Jack and the Beanstalk, which sounds like bad planning, and the main star is someone from Hollyoaks who I've never heard of, which sounds like bad casting. My niece will not be appearing, having turned down a part due to prior commitments.
The monthly village newsletter is now available from the pub on the green, the other pub on the green and from that pile at the back of the church.