I really should learn to look in the local paper more often. This morning I took Tabby to the local Christmas Fayre, having seen the sign for it in a car park last night. It consisted of a hot dog stand and this chap, who was advertising train rides for children’s parties or something. Needless to say, Tabby was slightly disappointed, and terrified of the train (because of the dog. She is wise and knows the truth about wolves in the living room).
Had I read the paper before hand, I’d have realised the majority of the Fayre was actually indoors, in the town hall, and that if we’d gone in the afternoon, she could have met Santa.
I’d also have noticed this story about a handsome young journalist from the area who got through to the finals of the Guardian International Development Competition (who, by the way, didn’t win, but did get published, which makes him happy). Wonder why they didn’t call me for a quote?