Readers beware as I feel the urges to indulge in pseudo-profundity in this current blog. Some may wish to seek refuge in re-runs of Escape to the Chateau: DIY but for those brave enough to remain – brace yourselves. When a scribe approaches his 50th birthday, all manner of thoughts clouds the brain, not least that I will actually be older than James Robertson Justice when he starred in Doctor in the House. As a child, I assumed the great ogre was aged approximately 87 million years.
And December is the time of the year that many people find extremely stressful and yes, depressing. People of my age will be only too aware of how, during our lifetimes, the pressure to have an expensive and extended Christmas seemed to increase year by year. Harry Worth appearing in the Woolworth’s TV advertisement and The Goodies Christmas Special now seem to belong to another epoch. So do announcers on Southern Television donning jolly pullovers to introduce Day by Day or Worzel Gummidge. Of course, I do enjoy receiving presents, and indeed I secretly crave a 1965 Citroën DS Pallas in my stocking – although it might not easily fit. But as the month progresses, there are times when the maelstrom of noise and marketing press frequently seem overwhelming. Furthermore, Slade released far better records than Merry Xmas Everybody.
All of which is the reason why it is so pleasant to contemplate Chateau de Bois Giraud in December, as autumn transforms into winter. The sight of the building in the frost-covered grounds puts me in mind of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe although, to the best of my knowledge, there is no Turkish Delight hidden in the kitchen cupboards. There is also the opportunity to rattle around the floors while listening to Edith Piaf and Juliette Grecco, a pastime I can thoroughly recommend. As for my impending birthday – well, at least I was born in the same year as the Peugeot 304…