felt like I was part of the Raymond Briggs masterpiece on thursday morning. I awoke to the beautiful sight of snow falling down and the beautiful noise of Q103 announcing that both CVC and the Vine in Cambourne were closed for the day - Hurrah! Still in my stripey pyjamas I rushed outside and made a snowman, and then was taken off on what can only be described as a magical trip full of snowmen (and snowwomen, nudge nudge wink wink) and their crazy snowmen ways...

I sat next to 2 snowmen who were having a chinwag. Amidst the noise of snow falling and penguins waddling I caught one part of their conversation. One snowman said to the other: "Can you smell Carrots?"

Boom boom.

Here's another (unrelated) joke:

Two blokes are lost in the Sahara desert. They're desperate for water, but just as they think they're about to die, they chance upon a village where market day is in full swing.

They go to the first stall they see and ask if they can buy some water.

"No," replies the Bedouin stall owner, "I only sell fruit, Fruit is all I sell

So off they go to the next stall and again they ask for water.

"Sorry," says the merchant, "But I only sell custard."

"Custard?" one of the blokes says to the other, "What kind of place is this?"

By now desperate, they go to the next stall, only to be told, "Sorry, but I only sell jelly."

They decide to give up and move on, one turns to the other and says "wasn"t that extremely odd?" his friend turns to him and replies "yes it was a trifle bazaar."

On that bombshell I'll leave you to enjoy your half-term in peace. have a good one and remember: nothing rhymes with orange. Apart from borange. But that's not a word.

As I sit at my desk pondering life and all its goodness, a smile can't help but begin to form itself on my lower face as I look back over the past week and all that has happened.

Sunday was a monster of a day. Having preached at Cambourne Church on the morning and witnessed another cracking game of footie at Soccer Sunday, the time came for Christmas Thirst and the moment that we'd all been waiting for....the launch of this very website that you are on at this very moment. 'Twas a delight to see so many people registering straightaway for all the joys that this website will bring, let's hope that many others will follow suit. 

However, I was not allowed to enjoy the webiste for long, as the following morning I was off to Burwell House on a residential for yrs 5 and 6 at the Vine School in Cambourne. Like a frustrated badger snuffling around a wire fence separating himself from a piece of bread on the other side, I was unable to view the website again until this thursday. My oh my I missed it, the reunion was a tearful but joyous one.

Anyhoo, that's all in the past and we must look forward to the future. Christmas holidays are now upon us which is tremendous news, and I am looking forward to spending it watching classic Christmas films such as Home Alone, Santa Clause the movie, and err....jingle all the way.

However, there is something that I'm not looking forward to quite so much. It's that awkward feeling that you have when everyone is crowded round you on Christmas day waiting to see your reaction to a present that you clearly have no intention of using/wearing/eating etc. I'm not talking about the usual kind of Christmas present such as the jumper that your gran knitted with a horse on the front eating a carrot. No, this is the present which is getting more and more common every Christmas and will continue to do so: A goat.

At this point I should stress that the goat is not actually there at the present giving ceremony, (note to self for another time: a goat in a big Christmas stocking would make excellent viewing), but rather you give someone a piece of paper that says that you've actually not spent any money on them this Christmas but rather you've spent it on a goat for some people out in Africa.

The first time I received such a present I didn't know what to do. What do i say? "Oh, brilliant! Just what I've always wanted!" or "Wow, my very own goat..." or more likely my reaction: "Why didn't you buy me a present and buy a goat for this charity?"

The fact is, though, however awkward my reaction will be if someone gives me a present like this, it'll be going to someone and some people who need it much more than I would have ever needed those Cds that my friend would have bought me. Although the goat would never live with me, and would go to the family in Africa, it does get you thinking... If I had a goat in my house it would be so much fun. You'd never need to mow your lawn for a start. Plus imagine the postman's face when a goat rips the post from his hand rather than the standard dog. I would also definitely ride in around Caxton and try to overtake those girls who always ride their horses. Perhaps I will ask for a goat for Chrismas after all....

Well well well, what a moment. My first ever blog entry. I can hardly hold back the excitement, it's so overwhelming. My upcoming marriage can surely not even reach this overpowering elation.

Right, what am I meant to say? Anything I like? Does it have to be about WCCYM and God? Or can I just talk my usual babbling rubbish?

Perhaps I should just treat it as a diary. Not in a Bridget Jones kind of way, cos i'm neither overweight nor female (not that either of these are bad - some of my best friends are female). But maybe i should just write what i've done today - that'll keep people right on the edge of their seats.

Well so far I've written up a lot of my wedding service sheet, i've done a few other wedding things, and i've been to the toilet four times and it's not even midday. It goes right through me these days in my old age.

I may just have a little sunbathe before i head into town  to meet financial advisors and but pink sweets - it's a crazy world i live in. One wacky rollercoaster ride, who knows whats going to happen next? Will you join me? I think so.