Albert: Ok, come on, Albert. Like Grandad used to say, big breath now and dive in.
Albert: Are you ok?
Granny: Never better. But brimstone and treacle! I haven't seen weather like this since I went to Siberia on my honeymoon.
Granny: You know what? I think I'll learn to ski.
Albert: But you're 98.
Granny: Prime of life, Albert, prime of life.
Granny: Great bags of peppermint! Isn't this lovely?
Granny: Oh, don't sit around like that - it's unhealthy. Why don't you have a skiing marathon? A snowman-building competition? A massive marshmallow barbecue?
— All the roads are blocked, and the telephone lines are down.
— And no-one will come and dig us out because hardly anyone outside Gritshire knows where Blackbury is.
Granny: Well, we won't starve, for sure. We can always find something to nibble on. When I went to Alaska in my 20s, we ended up eating our boots. Chins up.
— She brought it on herself. That's what happens when you take a hairy stranger into your home.
— If you think I'm going up to that evil place, you've got another think to thunk.
Police Sergeant: Ok, listen up, people. Let's brace ourselves because we're off to... Even Moor.
Narrator: And so, the townspeople were happy and full of Christmas spirit. And they all agreed that they had learnt an important lesson from Granny... that an act of true kindness always pays back.
Narrator: .... And if that isn't Christmas magic, then who knows what is?
—
On the IMDb
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