Brassed off...

....not really! I went to the gym this morning, and we ( Cath & myself) were discussing what we are going to wear for the meal we are going to on Tuesday.  The men didn't have any such problem, and couldn't understand what we meant  (do they ever?) When I got home, we had lunch, then J cleaned the brasses. It's one of his "Christmas" jobs. All done now and they are back on the mantlepiece, ready for Father Christmas to call:

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