To blog on Christmas Day seems evil. Wrong. Unnecessary. No-one will read it. Nobody cares. And I’ve got into the holiday mode too. I know I have. So much so that the prospect of doing any work tomorrow is really hacking me off – that’s how much I’ve chilled in the space of a day – it’s probably the alcohol. Next time I will not be volunteering.
Such a lovely day should be marked, however. Woke up early and listened to the Christmas Service on Radio 4. Watched some TV, made a call to Mum and Dad before the three of us made a start on the Christmas lunch. We aimed for 2.00pm. It slipped to 2.30pm. We ended up eating shortly after the Queen had finished. The sprouts were surprisingly not bitter, the parsnips tasty. Turkey remained moist despite me failing to put the foil on top at the beginning of proceedings.
A string a delightful presents. Some real surprises. My trusty cafetiere accidentally broken last week by Simon has been replaced by a massive automated coffee-machine thing, accompanied by a similarly large bag of actual whole coffee beans. Lots of woollen things, new pyjamas, a replacement phone case – I won’t lose another wallet now, and the biggest surprise of all, an iPad Mini. I had no idea I needed an iPad Mini. Having used it for precisely 5 minutes, I can’t imagine how I could possibly do without one. Predictable me.
Simon’s presents went down well. The Bluetooth speaker was a hit. The Sony Experia Z3 was a successful surprise. Danny Baker autobiography completely left field. Very pleased.
Want tomorrow morning to go smoothly. I don’t want to get up too early and discover there is nothing to do. Equally, I don’t want to oversleep and discover that the work has been sent a good two hours earlier than was originally planned. I don’t want to receive tetchy text messages. I don’t want anything to burst the bubble. I want it all over in 30 minutes after which I want to return to my stack of presents and some laid-back Boxing Day TV. Wish me luck.