I do hope the drone has delivered this newsletter to your door. If it hasn’t, I can only apologise – not that you’ll be able to accept the apology, as you won’t be reading it. Sorry if that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I’ve already started chillaxing with a rather tasty glass of Veuve Cliquey!
Sam and I are spending the Christmas holiday in the country. And for once the country is Britain, not Portugal. Bit of a shame, but we’ll make the most of it. After all, it’s the first time we’ve put our feet up for simply days. We’ll be recharging our batteries after another exhausting but rewarding year at the helm of the most successful school in the world, if not Europe. Mmm, another glass? Don’t mind if I do – cheers!
Yes, we’re having a traditional Christmas in the Cotswolds and doing all the normal things, such as not getting together with old friends, like Mrs Brooks – who isn’t an old friend in any case, so why would I want to get together with her and ride her horse? The very idea just makes me LOL – or is it LOL? I never remember. You know what I mean, even if I don’t.