It’s almost three in the afternoon on Christmas day. I’ve switched from the champagne we had with our cinnamon rolls this morning to my usual diet Coke. The Better Half is reading his new fishing books and nursing a last glass of champagne. Both kids have gone back to sleep, one in bed and one on the sofa. The fire is burning steadily. We have talked on the phone with the southern relatives and will call the west coast in a little while. And I’m thinking of moseying into the kitchen to start the batter for the Yorkshire pudding (the Better Half’s family are English and Welsh) but I’m not really moving yet.
The gifts were lovely–art books and gift certificates from the local diner from the Better Half (who I hope will join me for breakfast with them), wonderful papers to play with, a book by the Dalai Lama from First Child, a Gorillapod for my camera (which looks like–and has been pressed into service as–an advance guard for the Martian invasion, but which holds the camera exactly where you’d like it to be held), a gigantic block of caramel (thanks to Second Child, who never got that pony and knows a “what I really always wanted” wish when she hears one), chocolate, a lovely Chinese brush for painting . . . this was supposed to be a very low key Christmas (there’s that economy thing, you know) but everything was so lovingly chosen that I’m feeling entirely spoiled.
And–oh, yeah–in keeping with a true Welsh Dylan Thomas Christmas, “the dog was sick.”*
My gratitude and best wishes to readers who come this way–looking forward to having you back again in the new year. Here’s hoping for good health, safety, and happiness for all. And a much more peaceful and sensible world, even though it will take lots of patience and perseverance to undo the damage done. I think we’re finally ready to start.
*Don’t worry about him–he’s fine now. He has a history of overindulging and this time it serves him right for scarfing down ALL of the leftover pea soup and ham and cheese biscuits we brought home from a beautiful dinner party last night.