AFTER a weekend of chicken legs, car horns and traffic jams the flu finally caught up with me.

Well, it wasn't really the flu but a sniffle. But I decided it might lead to something more deadly and headed straight for the doctor. He wasn't in so my old friend Lemsip did the trick.

Just a warning here for all the blokes looking for medicines at your local pharmacist. Don't hang around too long otherwise the lady behind the counter might think you're looking for something else.

With one festival out of the way I am looking forward to celebrating another.

However, it is November 19 today. And already I am sick to death of the how companies are trying to off load all of their tacky goods on me. They've been at it for weeks now.

Christmas should mean more than adverts and I am convinced there are people out there for whom it does mean more.

I like Christmas and in the past I have been known to buy a Christmas tree and some crackers and sit beside the fireplace. Maybe roast some nuts, cook some bangers and mash, watch the Queen's speech and so on.

But year after year the 'big brands' take over and decide to make Christmas their own.

This year they have gone too far. The jingles, the offers, the packages - it's all too much and far too early.

They want us to buy, buy and buy some more. And if we can't afford it we can always take out a loan or get a credit card.

From Britney Spears - Greatest Hits CDs (how she managed to fill that I have no idea) to DIY goods, there is no let up. I am sure if the companies had it their way they would invent themselves another Christmas in the summer months.

And if the rush to the shops is a bit slow all we need is a convenient Christmas present telling us that Osama Bin Laden or one of his cronies has been caught.

That should get me in the mood for some more shopping. Come on, they gave us Saddam Hussein last year didn't they?

At least the Christmas Spirit is alive and well in Clitheroe. Well, for most of the townsfolk anyway.

Now I was under the impression that council meetings were meant to be boring affairs with little action inside the chamber and out.

But not at this meeting. Inside the chamber Tory councillors raised their hands to turn down plans for a mosque in the town.

Outside, a group of another sort were raising their hands for other reasons. The only difference was the haircuts.