What was silent last night now rings out clearly.
No, not the church bells, and not some oblique reference to carols in one of the tiny churches in the North Hampshire Downs Benefice, but to the construction of brass and wax: Angel Chimes.
Now I don’t know about you, but my family have a love-hate relationship with these things. My mum loves them. Each year these had to be cleaned with foul concoctions so that their shinyness could sparkle as they span… ting ting ting…
Rachel’s family never had these, but she has been converted to this as a fixed Christmas thing.
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