This, my friends, is the last of the letters from your correspondents across The Pond , as we return to downtown Blissford tomorrow. It is winter in New York State . The last of the leaves have fallen and in the mountains to the north the ground has frozen and the water which drips over the rocks has turned into long icicles. The maples and the birches are silver against the blue sky and the wind from the north is icy cold.

Last weekend saw us visiting friends in New Bedford, a former whaling town with an interesting museum and many beautiful old wooden houses, which were formally owned by the whaling captains and the Quakers, some of whom became Presbyterian when they began to make a lot of money! We had dinner with some friends of our friends, in a bustling Portuguese restaurant. The friends were originally from Sicilly and looked just like one’s perceptions of the mafia! They were, though, very good company and amazingly rich! We visited Plymouth Rock, too. I had expected an outcrop on a storm-tossed bay, but it is merely a modest boulder on a beach which in places has been cemented together and nailed to the ground! It is a lovely piece of coastline, however. We moved on to north of Boston to visit my sister and her family, where we had an amazing shopping expedition. We were looking for a few Christmas goodies to bring back for our kids, but because of the need to transport our purchases, had, sadly, to resist the temptation to buy a motorised tie-rack, a coin sorter with power wrapper, electric nose-hair trimmers and an ionic shoe freshener! Instead we had to make do with a snowman Christmas tree skirt, a Rudolph oven glove with bells on and nutcracker soldiers to hang on the tree.

Last night saw us heading into the city for the last time, to the Metropolitan Opera House for Aida. The theatre is a wonderful building, all sweeping staircases, gold leaf ceilings, red carpets and murals by Chagal. Our seats were the cheapest at the very top of the building, but great none the less. It was a spectacular production complete with horses, some what more elaborately dressed that even the most carefully groomed, bridled and saddled animals in downtown Blissford. It was also, and most importantly, very beautifully sung, and the performers measured up to one’s conception of how opera singers should be. The tenor looked like Carruso, the mezzo was slightly larger, but Aida was positively enormous. And you thought Pavorotti was big…..!! But she had a wonderful voice.

Today it is time to begin packing for our return to the Forest. We are look ing forward to seeing everyone and taking part in village affairs again. We seem to have missed some exciting and enjoyable events. Speaking of which, I come to the wassailing. We have music for carols, arranged for anything from a tuba to a welsh harp at circa Grade 1 standard (for those who understand such things : easy, very, if you don’t). All you need is an instrument and the ability to more or less read basic music (or have the confidence to busk), and you can be a member of the Blissford Band !!!. We will, of course need to rehearse, venue Postbox Cottage (or anywhere else as necessary), where liquid refreshments will be liberally served, since playing is a thirsty business, and we usually find that the carols sound better, both to the players and indeed the audience, after a few jars.

Ultimately we plan to choose an evening to visit the homes of our friends and relations in downtown Blissford and share our Christmas cheer. ( It might be better not to tell the friends and relations when we are coming in case they discover they have urgent private affairs! ) In the past we have had a small collection for charity. We have found that most people are happy to contribute, if only so that we go away! So, don’t be bashful, give us a call and sign on today ! John and Debbie of PBC

(Welcome home! -Ed)