The last show of the year for me was in St Peters Church here in Firle, i was asked to sing two carols. The first one was The Holly and the Ivy, lamented in a Leonard Cohen kind of a way, it went down to mixed applause. The second was one i had written that afternoon. It lyrically covered the Christmas day you might expect in Firle. The church was packed and lit by oil lamps. A bar was set up at the back of the church by the font. Peter our wonderful vicar introduced the evening in true Owen Jones style, bold and beautiful. The evening celebrated the Winter Solstice, a very important day in the calendar. Outside the wind licked the church with its giant tongue, the rain lashed us to our bones, all inside drank mulled wine and watched as the band and choir sang a more traditional rendition of the Christmas Carols. It was a happening in a church, i kicked off the night in a dower and shallow voiced way, Louise and i slipped home for some toast. The night went on without us, but the storm followed us to our beds, it was wild. From today the days get longer, such great news for all, and for the birds who look for worms in our garden. And so the guitar is put to bed and 2013 is stored away in the chapters of my life for another day. Not a great way to end my musical year but a way. At least there will be more light as we ramp up to the New Year and way beyond. Thank you Peter for asking me to play in your wonderful church, where last i sat there by the pulpit i was being married, it was moving. Winter has not really kicked in yet and the weather for this Christmas looks wonderful, wet and very windy with a slight chance of son’s with dogs in toe, and from the South girls with wide open eyes. An amber weather warning is predicted for Christmas day, flooding of presents and a slight chance of fog from the bathroom. Its mid winter and its time to clean out cupboards time to wrap up presents time to mull on the year gone by, lots to sink in. Lots to sink about. Winter solstice is a great crack in the year when light and hope begin to seep in, i feel confident about the months ahead, how else is there to feel. Mince pies all round. The saddest news is the stealing of the Post Box, dated from Victorian times at the end of the village. It was housed in a brick wall but some arse hole has knocked it down, and by doing so made it easy to nick. I have been on the phone to all my mates in prison to see if we can help find this treasured piece of village life. How sad. I never paid much attention to it but now its gone it beings a deep sigh to my soul. Why, and who did this crime? In the village we pride ourselves on the tapestry of life provided to us by people gone by, things like this make my lip curl. Not in a Cliff Richard way but in a tired old Monkey kind of a way. I respect this place and i love this place in my life, its a treasure, now without a Post Box at the A27 end of the street. If you see one let me know. Winter Solstice, bring me more light, bring me more and more each day. I wish i liked mince pies!