Dear Friends and Family,
Well, it's that time again, and here at Pearly Jones Towers, we are reaching the end of another hectic year. Phew!
It's certainly been a mixed bag in 2009, although we seem to have come through it pretty unscathed!
Having combatted the virulent flatulence we told you about in our last Christmas Round Robin, Mr PJones discovered he had gone down with a quite spectacular case of hemorrhoids early in March, just in time for his birthday.
Having quietly battled on for some time with piles the size of golfballs, and with only the aid of a small inflatable rubber cushion for comfort, he decided to "go public" with them.
And so off we went to see Dr Harvey, who has thankfully recovered from that unfortunate business last summer, and has been given the go-ahead to continue in practice with just a warning from the General Medical Council.
Between ourselves, we do rather suspect his accompanying alcohol problem is not yet completely under control, but he is back at the helm, with his caring, if slightly shaky hands.
The good Doctor was most impressed and said Mr PJones' lower protrusions were some of the finest he'd ever seen, and he's apparently seen a fair few in his time, which immediately put Mr PJones at ease.
In fact, he became rather wistful on the subject, saying they reminded him of the sun ripened vines in his local vineyard in Beaune, near Burgundy in France, where he has a small Gite.
He assured us that they make the most superb red wine there and has promised a bottle or two when he returns from his next visit.
Well, as you can imagine, Mr PJones was practically walking on air (after sitting on it for weeks) having been buoyed up by all this unexpected attention to his problem "down below".
We left the surgery in a much better frame of mind, armed with a large tube of Anusol and some latex gloves, which I have found invaluable, when rubbing in Mr PJones' cream every night, with a new found vigour!
Of course, some of you may remember my own little medical emergency back in June, when I accidentally gave an elderly Greek gentleman a heart attack during my triennial cervical smear test.
Well, I'm pleased to tell you that dear Mr Phillipoussis has made a full recovery and although he feels he can't yet return to his flat, as he is still mentally too fragile, he is making good progress in the nursing home.
The downside of the whole tragic affair is that apparently he can't bear to eat scrambled eggs now, which the home says can make breakfast tricky as the other residents tend to kick up a terrible fuss when they see he has been given a preferential poached egg.
I believe the staff are trying an experimental technique to wean him back onto scrambled via coddled, by tapping into his subconscious using pictorial flash cards with his cocoa at bedtime.
I'm sure you all join us in wishing him a speedy return to full health.
Oh yes, and before I forget, if any of you are given unwanted Christmas gifts again this year, I'm happy to announce that I will be doing my usual "Taking Christmas to the Homeless" run, day after Boxing Day.
Last year my heart was touched deeply when one of my destitute friends who live outside our local Waitrose, was overcome with gratitude for his gift.
Having offered him a polka dot Cafetiere and Expresso Cup set, which was sadly surplus to requirements in the PearlyJones household, I was absolutely delighted to be told, with gusto, that "This was all he fucking well needed!" Bless him (even if his language was a little fruity for that time of the morning!)
Now I know what some of you may think about the homeless, but it was just lovely to be met with such an unselfish attitude, from someone who genuinely has so little. Apart from a large piece of damp cardboard and a rather phlegmmy cough.
But it did mean that I could take the unwanted box of notelets printed with six different seasonal pictures of Basingstoke, around to Mrs Undercracker (I'm not convinced that's her real name but Alvin says that's what all the children at school call her).
Some of you will recollect seeing her hovering on the periphery of our Summer Musical Soirees in the Park. She was the lovely old lady with the flowing silvery beard and asymmetric wart, who liked to swig from the discarded champagne bottles she found in the bin.
Well, she was sadly evicted from the bandstand earlier this year, after being given some sort of long service community award called an asbo.
She's now living in a glorious little spot, on the iron bench next to the Gentlemen's lavatories, which she says is a step up, as she now has warm running water. Such a dear!
And yes, I am aware that she spits at the occasional passer-by but it's all in jest I'm sure. I'm utterly convinced she appreciated being able to write a little note or two to her friends and relatives after the seasons festivities had ended, whatever she shouted at me at the time.
With my sack of unwanted gifts tied to the handlbars of my bicycle, little bell jingling wildly for effect, pedalling past the poor, downtrodden and needy, I felt just like a little Christmas elf!
There is nothing like spreading some seasonal joy to get you into the Yuletide spirit!
And of course, if any of you want to join me on my rounds this year, give me a tinkle. Hopefully, you will get through, although we do seem to have developed a fault on our telephone line.
I have tried calling most of you in the last couple of weeks to see if you have your new addresses for me yet, since you all moved houses so suddenly. We haven't heard a peep out of any of you since August. Busy unpacking I expect.
Anyway, we can get a dialling tone, and hear the other end pick up but would you believe, no sooner than I say who it is, the line goes completely dead!
We'll report it to BT in the New Year, but for now, we haven't forgotten you! Rest assured we'll see you in 2010 for more fun and frolics, minus the piles I hope!
Well, must dash. It's time for Mr PJones' cream and you know what a stickler he is for time keeping.
Have a very Merry Christmas and we'll see you all in the New Year!
Toodle pip!
From all at Pearly Jones Towers.
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FOR MORE ON THE HORROR THAT IS THE CHRISTMAS ROUND ROBIN, SEE BELOW:
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