2018 drew to a close with our traditional Xmas party at GWC. We began with a game of ‘Call My Bluff’ and I for one would like to offer my contrafibularities to our ever resourceful host, Ian Taylor, on a job well done. With Lesley supplying the blu-tack, Ian adorned the bowling club room with a plethora of words and possible meanings. I confess to finding Leslie’s sculpting of the blu-tack slightly more fascinating and strangely enticing (can dogs eat blu-tac?). Alas my hunger driven antics may have distracted Ian somewhat. And as such I am anaspeptic, phrasmotic, even compunctious to have caused Ian such pericombobulation! Arruff!

 

During tea, an enthusiastic not to say frasmotic Isobel sold of an entire boxful of our 50th Anthology books! We then indulged in the usual book swap and Edith even organised a raffle, thanks to members who brought along small gifts for the occasion. All proceeds went to club funds, hopefully a not insubstantial amount earmarked for pendigestatory snacks! Arruff!

After a prolonged interludicle (once again thanks to members generosity and home baking) some members read out a few ditties, what they had wrote, on the subject of plastics. John eulogised on ‘Eradicating the Plastic Cures’, Isobel gave a McGonagall-esque message of reduce, reuse and recycle and a there was dour warning from Tony ‘ When it a’ runs oot!’

Having been educated and entertained we were also informed by Franziska’s tales of Christmas customs from around the world. There was an Icelandic Xmas cat out to eat you, a Greek something or other that just eats and an Italian witch who turned up late for the nativity (6th Jan) and so gave all her presents to everyone! Arruff!

Oh well enough extramuralisation for today, onwards and upwards.