HAPPY CHRISTMAS FROM THE TREHORLICKS FAMILY

                                                                                              
                                                                                             

                                                                                                            

                                                                                                The Manor House
                                                                                                            Much Bickering
                                                                                                            December 10th



Dearest friends,
Christmas is nearly upon us again already and what a year it’s been for change!   
Darling Crichton is still beavering away up in town to keep us all afloat, but the twins and I are in a constant state of flux, as you probably know. I really should keep a diary. I find it so hard to remember everything we’ve been up to, but here are the highlights. 

Jerome started at Cambridge in October (ancient history and dance), so he’s all high kicks and Hittites now. It was touch and go after the A level results, but as Crichton and the Provost were such great chums at Eton, there was no real question of him being refused.
Jerome now has to compose and say Latin grace before dinner in Hall every evening btw, for which, of course, he receives a full bursary. ‘Previa lexus laguna, Mondeo avensis’ is  his favourite at the moment…he’s always loved cars and I doubt anyone will notice.

We are so proud of Arraminta. 
She was offered a wonderful opportunity in the summer… an extra year in school. A sort of gap year, I suppose. She will be resitting her exams at an excellent college in Tunbridge Wells before she decides on her future career. She hovers between modelling and celebrity chef. Always so creative.  
She’s boarding again of course. We really couldn’t let her live at home after the last time…Thank heavens Crichton plays golf with the Chief Constable.
We’re reduced to just Cook, and Stubbins in the garden, so hard times indeed. (We had to let Nanny go in July…I’ll just say sherry). Alyona still comes in to push the Dyson round, but only three times a week, now the burden of dog hair has diminished. We were down to only the four hounds since losing Pitch and Toss in the summer (golly, those spaniels could moult for England), but Crichton came up trumps on my birthday to boost the numbers with a dear little sausage dog, Brexit. He can be quite fierce with the postman, but the nipping is really only in fun. 
We squeezed in three weeks in Phuket with Bunty and Derek out of politeness, after we returned from our cruise, and there was Scotland for the grouse in August, but no proper holiday for us this year. Crichton says he’ll make it up to me. I’m sure he will.
Well this won’t get the turkey basted.
Wishing you peace on earth, goodwill etc. We are looking forward to putting our feet up and relaxing this year.
Season’s Greetings and a Happy New Year to all.

Cynthia Trehorlicks                            


Chaps,
If I sent you all a copy of our latest bank statement you could draw your own conclusions about last year. 
Trehorlicks & Waffler still provides us with funds for meat and drink, and keeps me out of trouble, and away from Cynthia’s insatiable desire for foreign travel.
Managed to shoe horn the boy into college after calling in a favour from old Tompkins. Just say Basingstoke in his shell-like and he’ll do anything for you!
After all that trouble, the little blighter’s just wasting his time on play acting and has got a tattoo that his mother doesn’t know about. At least he recognises a decent burgundy when he tastes one, so not all bad news.
Arraminta continues to drain the parental purse for yet another year. 
If only she’d stick to the speed limit in the little Porsche she had for her eighteenth, it would save us a few quid. 
Still she’s a poppet and drinks almost as much as her mother did at that age.

And talking of Cynthia…A big mistake to buy a beastly dachshund for her birthday. It’s permanently baring its teeth and attaching itself to my turn ups. 

Well here’s to a Happy Christmas and prosperous New Year…mine’s a very large Scotch.

Cheers
Crichton Trehorlicks



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