Facebook Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

I have lost track of whether I have told you that Mrs Claus has become a Facebook addict, to rival only her passion for extreme sudoku. She has many so called "friends" who exchange banal comments with frequently barbed edges. How a simple question about fudge can elicit 13 posts in as many minutes baffles me. Do they really have nothing better to do? I mean they could be making more fudge for instance. As for me, I spend my weekend doing really useful things like sitting in standing traffic for three hours to take some boxes of paperwork to a Halliwick colleague (should that correctly read an Halliwick colleague I wonder). This is a little spare time job that I tried to give up 5 years ago and by virtue of doing nothing about it for 3 years finally persuaded my colleagues that it would be worth their while to get someone else to do it for me. I don't recommend the north circular to anyone on a Saturday afternoon. Still it was good to see the new Wembley stadium for the first time.
We decided to try a different route home along the M4 to Heathrow then round the M25, longer but hopefully quicker. Jist one problem, from where we had parked the sleigh the assumption was that all traffic only wanted to go East towards the centre of London not West so the first 20 minutes was spent in the wrong direction looking for somewhere to turn round. Why don't they have roundabouts on motorways? Once we had managed to turn around however the benefits were great. There was a really angry sky to the west ranging from orange to sea green and a big wind blowing that kept the clouds moving. Much more boring when we turned east again and drove towards the dark. Still I suppose living close to the North Pole we should be used to the dark by now.
Mrs Claus had the flu jab recently. Not swine flu (I understand that is a pig of an infection to catch), just the ordinary so of course we both have streaming colds now. A jug of hot grog and resting by the fire are the usual recommended remedy but that draws her back to the dreaded Facebook. Friends, posts walls, pokes and challenges to say nothing of bejewelled gardens and private zoos. It is all a mystery to me. I understand that walls have to have posts to help them stay up but if someone writes on my wall then I call the anti graffiti squad, not say "ho-ho, how jolly" and send a bon mot back by click of mouse.
Then there is the whole thing about profile pictures. Writing this I remember that I have told you all this before because I am sure I have told you about Mrs Claus' niece who pretends to be a cat. Anyway we have a talking car and people who have photos of someone else on their profile just to confuse me. I tell you, if they want anything up their chimney this year they will have to start behaving themselves
Oh and thanks to the real (not electronic) friend who brought me a spanish omlette when the sleight got stranded the other side of the Horsehead Nebulla, otherwise known as the M25