The Manor

The Manor House is a mess and the longer I look at it the harder it is for me to decide on a plan of action.
Slut's wool lays in every corner.
The hounds have been attacking the tablecloth and ripped it to shreds.
Mi Lord is still snoring in the bedchamber and the Princess has her head under the blankets hoping it is not morning yet.
I am dreaming of my lovely piece of Scotland this morning.
I am thinking how I could win a few million so that I might take off, literally, and explore Glencoe - what a wonderful Christmas that would be?

But I feel that I will be facing a hot and sticky Chirstmas in the colonies instead.