Our Christmas Letter

Dear Friends and Family,

Inspired by the recent arrival of an ill-disguised epistolary bragfest from friends that have drifted far enough apart as to make their Christmas letters appear out of the dark waters of our subsconciousnesses like the iceberg that scuppered the Titanic, Mr Gingerbread and I would like to jump on the venerable bandwagon of overblown prose, poor punctuation, lavish emoticons and backhanded boasting in order to send you a recount of our 2010.

Well, well, well - it has been a busy year, has it not? (smileyface). January saw Mr Gingerbread recovering from a lung embolism which he no doubt picked up following a minor accident during our house renovations. I told him to hire help - after all, we have no shortage of money following our decision to copyright some of the web's most beloved acronyms as our own inventing. LOL alone garnered us millions on the stock exchange in 2010 (though sadly my favourite  - YWKWIMIYHLTMPTFTA: You Would Know What I Mean If You Had Listened To Me Properly The First Time Around - didn't enjoy as much success.) Being a veritable Man Friday, he decided to tackle it himself and ended up in hospital for his enthusiasm (sadface). 

But the ensuing spring months were successful on every level and we found ourselves savouring the delight that is Gingerbreadtown in the spring (happyface.) As you all know, Mr G. has a passing interest in quantum physics, so imagine our delight when he discovered that he could split the atom using nothing but his desk lamp, a rotating pencil and a filter from the coffee machine. Smiles all round. I achieved several of my goals by late summer, including making significant strides in the negotiation of peacekeeping agreements in the Sudan and mobilising the UN forces in Haiti. Sadly, permanent peace in Northern Ireland eludes me and there were renewed scuffles during marching season in July, despite my requests that some of the more militant ditties be replaced by non-denominational classics such as Kumbaya or Michael, Row the Boat Ashore. Oh well - 2011 is another year!

Autumn brought its usual whirl of work and social obligations, which sadly did not diminish as Christmas drew near. We turned down invitations from Brad and Angelina to spend the yuletide with their charming brood, as well requests from the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Dalai Lama to speak at their respective end-of-year celebrations. Our plan was to head to Ireland but, as you know, this was thwarted by Mother Nature. Still, given the year that we have had, we were not unhappy to crack open a bottle or two of Bollinger's Blanc de Noirs Vieilles Vignes Francaises (we opted for a 1997 vintage because we were feeling frisky) and dip our Tuc crackers in a jar of caviar. We felt it was unfair to recall the household staff to do our bidding, as they had returned to their own families for the festive season. Instead, we braved the kitchen alone: imagine my surprise and delight when Mr G. managed to defrost one of Anna-the-cook's Gratinée de coquilles St. Jacques all by himself! It made a fine meal - though rough and ready, as we had to use paper napkins because I still can't locate the linen closet (mental note to self: ask butler to enter the living quarters of our house on Google maps.)

On this note, Mr Gingerbread and I take great pleasure in raising our glasses to you and wishing you the very best of years to come! (happyface, happyface, happyface)

Yours truly,

The Gingerbread Lady