I have the lurg. The same lurg that seems to have swept through most of the village, I’ve been out of action for some days, but wasn’t going to let wassailling go by this year – we forgot it last year and a poor harvest was had. Enough said. I did compromise on timing and went out in the day though.
So we mulled some of our homemade cider, himself boiled it for a while as none of us wanted the alcohol bit, and off we tromped to visit the oldest of the apple trees, A beautiful sunny frosty day, and sorry neighbours, that was me in the 3 coats bovver boots scarf and that daft hat with the ear flaps, but hey I kept warm! We waved our mugs at the tree said ‘wassail!’ and drank a toast to the trees. That should do it.