Well who would have thought. 120 years ago today Agatha Christie was born. She gave us the nosey old neighbour Miss Marple; the Belgium detective Hercule Poirot who excerised his little grey cells and the little known Tommy and Tuppence the typical upper middle class "bright young things" of the 1920s.
As a lot of people now know, Agatha's disappearance on December 8, 1926 was due to a loss of memory after battling a giant wasp whilst being aided by two people, one dressed in a rather striking brown suit, the other as a slapper, or was that flapper. The thing I didn't know was she was friends with Felicity Kendall all these years ago. It came as quite a shock I can tell you, you would never of guessed she was that old.
So in celebration I shall read one of Agatha's early books, possibly The Mysterious Affair at Styles which was her first. Failing that I will read about Charles Dickens meeting Ghosts on Christmas Eve (like that would happen) or have tea with Noddy. Actually saying that i am supposed to meet Big Ears for a coffee later this morning