I'm not going to give support to a platform that enables and encourages abuse. Abner will continue posting over at Bluesky bsky.app/profile/brown-abner… but unless and until X gets its house in order, this account will be on pause. Hope to see you later.
Either Chesters Missionary College exists in a bubble of reality that is immune to extreme weather, or the Condicote Bugle has been ever so slightly exaggerating the weather forecast.
The weather is extreme and unpredictable. Despots with giant egos stalk the land. Nobody and nothing is safe, even Christmas. Meanwhile, at Chesters we are doing jigsaws and toasting choirboys, and wondering what's gone wrong with the world?
Feeling bereft: I've just suffered an unexplained but overwhelming urge to pop into Woolworths and buy a quarter of pick-n-mix (heavy on Murray Mints and Lion Toffee), a can of white emulsion and 6 yards of bell wire.
The good news is that Animus has whipped-up a first rate blizzard and the clergy definitely won't be reaching the cathedral. The bad news is that, due to Condicote Parish Council no longer clearing the pavements, we are stuck in this dratted bunker until Christmas.
Twelfth night is associated with feasting, drinking and the reversal is social hierarchies. So, for one night only I shall be allowing @foxyfacedcharl1 to call me a dolt - if he's not too sloshed.
Due to an outbreak of curates playing find the lady on the commuter service, I have annexed Musborough Junction, scrobbled that old fool with a handbell and am going to make the 1640 to Condicote run on time.
Make it your goal this year to read two of the most delightful books ever written, The Midnight Folk and The Box of Delights. There’s no work of fiction I’ve read in the past two years I enjoyed more. C. S. Lewis was a fan, and the books were a huge influence on Narnia.
We're off to Aberdeenshire to chuck a blizzard or two around. I'm hoping a, film crew and Master Harker will follow ush here - then I might be able to get that dratted box.
The scrobbling office has issued an Animus warning of snow and ice. All curates are advised to wear their winter cassocks, if they don't want their canticles to freeze overnight.
I'm excited to announce that Christmas 2026 will see the launch of my autobiography Abner Brown: a life in nobbling and scrobbling. Pre-orders are being taken now (half a crown, cash only) and your copy will be available to collect at the Christmas Eve service at Tatchester.
If those two dolts on skates can get knighthoods for Olympic ice dancing in 1984, I don't see why I can't have one for magnificent over-acting and best use of a green dressing gown the same year.
In these strange days of Betwixtmas I'm forced to consider that if my story was all part of Master Harker's dream then I am but a part of that morbid, idle muff. That only goes to show you just where thinking can get you.
I went into Tatchester for the sales. I got myself an excellent deal on a new missionary college. It's a bit damp and has a few singe marks here and there, but with a lock of paint I think it will do very well for Christmas 2026.
The view from the bottom of this canal is a a bit muddy. But here is wishing a very merry Christmas to all who run with the wolves. Next year, we will prevail!