It’s here, the moment I have been waiting for all Christmas, the moment when all our visitors have departed, there is no cleaning left to do, the fire is lit and I can lie on the sofa and do nothing ….. well, almost. With my left hand I can just about reach for a glass of lightly chilled Chablis, and with the digits on my right hand I am tapping out this short post. Rather like a beached whale, I will not survive in this recumbent position for very long: nature didn’t engineer me for relaxation, but it is rather novel to experience the sensation for a few minutes.
A year that ended calm and bright has been replaced by one that is beginning cold and wet. We braved the seafront for a brief sortie after lunch and, having failed to spot any sea monsters, seals or sharks, we quickly retreated to the library for tea, Christmas cake and flapjacks laced with stem ginger. Him Indoors has excelled himself in the catering department this festive season (I like to think my housekeeping isn’t too shoddy either), so much so that we have had requests from our friends’ children to stay until next Christmas. Could it be that we have been just a tad too hospitable? Having politely declined we are alone at last, just me, myself and Him Indoors, preparing ourselves for 2017 and whatever it may throw at us. A moment of calm before we go, once more, into the breach, my dear friends.