Twenty thirteen. The end.
Mr. Luxe didn’t disappoint.
He drew upon all his resources – or rifled through his rolodex to ensure I was a happy Luxe on Christmas morning.
Parties are over. Vol au vent dust has settled. I’m belatedly writing out my thank you notes to Santa/Motherluxe/Mr. Luxe et al.
The wish list I posted back in November was a winner.
Trapeze has landed.
Of course – new shoes, new season Agent Provocateur and Boo were peeping out my stocking.
And super exciting of all, I got myself a little piece of Nikon nirvana (new to LUXE tbh) funded by Motherluxe, chosen by Mr. Selfridge.
It’s fabulous.
Has more buttons than Liberty.
I’ve left Mr. Luxe reading the manual whilst I try and figure out the skinny portrait setting – I’m sure there is one.
………………..
I’ve also promised Mr. Luxe I’d sort out tree-gate. Our Christmas tree’s still on site and I have until tomorrow (superstitious Luxe) to lose it. How to lose a 10 foot tree in a day?
45 minutes I’ve navigated around ratedpeople.com.
Mostly searching for ‘Christmas tree removal man with van’. It keeps sending me links to a surly looking tree surgeon from Shere.
You’d have thought there’d be at least 1 elf rated handyman out there. Ratedpeople are obviously not in tune with seasonal trends. Or as Motherluxe concluded – pine prejudice
Anyway.
I found him.
He’s called Jack (of all trades presumably). He’ll be over early eve!
His profile pic looked photoshopped so I figured he’ll be more understanding when I ask him to take his work boots off in the porch – parquet for life not just for Christmas.
Jack describes himself as handy, housetrained with a passion for painting, pointing and plumbing. That’s irrelevant – he drives a Peugeot transit van. Perfect for project tree removal. And he has a penchant for the letter P (I’m guessing). Luxe loves alliteration
……………………
Trapeze and I are taking Boo out for some more fresh air whilst Motherluxe prepares supper.
Or sipper judging by the over stocked wine cellar.
Dry January. Jog on.
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