There is a Hell and it’s Name is Lincoln

Despite long long hours and early starts Mrs Fogg decided we were going on a surprise to somewhere for our anniversary (last year I took her to Paris, the year before she took me to Brussels).

So up at 6.45am (woo an hour to sleep in) and off by 8am, heading south, and then hey ho it transpires Mrs Fogg had booked us into the Castle Hotel in Lincoln bang smack in the middle of the Lincoln Christmas markets. What a wonderful surprise.

Now Lincoln is closed to traffic at this point so we have specific directions to a police line where we have to use a police escort the rest of the way.

All sorted so order of the day stalls of tat, mulled wine, mince pies, thousands of people, walking, more tat and more mulled wine. Tonight we have a 5 course Christmas meal in the hotel.

What a fantastic weekend with wonderful company.

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Baby Tree

As I wrapped Mrs Fogg’s prezzies she dressed our naked 4ft twee on the landing. Don’t it look cool.

All set for Chrimbo now, house back in order, sauna in the front room (seriously when you come over it is a case of shorts and tshirts only), house decorated fully, Turkey ordered, haggis ordered, Folks over on the 13th and the Rocket Man and Jenny from the Blok all set to light the village skies on New Year’s Eve.

And a happy 9th Anniversary to the most wonderful woman in the world, 9 years I know how lucky is she!

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