The annual extravagance

Six years ago the Old Bat and I went a little mad. Only on the financial front, you understand. On other fronts we have both been a little mad for donkeys' years. This particular madness took a form of extravagance, an extravagance that has been repeated every year since at about this time. We have a calendar printed. This is a bespoke calendar that is hung in the kitchen to remind both of us of activities that are taking place and forthcoming engagements. OK, so there is nothing especially extravagant about a wall calendar - or there wouldn't be if we did not, as I said, have ours printed. By this I mean that we have a calendar printed especially for us. Just the one copy. There is a page for each month and each month is illustrated with a photograph I have taken during the past year. The calendar therefore serves as a souvenir of our holidays and other trips. I always produce a shortlist of potential pictures and generally leave the final selection to Her Ladyship. (Don't men usually do that? It tends to lead to a quieter life but I do get into trouble - or I did, until I learned better - when I suggest that the Old Bat goes on her own to choose curtains, cushions or whatever. She thinks I should show more interest. Nowadays I just tag along bored stiff, knowing full well that what we buy will be what she wants.)

This year excelled myself: the shortlist ran to 70+ pictures. I wasn't surprised when this one of deckchairs on Brighton beach (that's the remains of the West Pier in the background) was selected:



This one, however, did surprise me. I like it very much (for reasons I just can't explain) but I didn't expect it to meet with such approbation from SWMBO. It's a door of the church in Orcival, a town we visited while on holiday in the Auvergne, France.