It’s cold. It’s Christmas. I’m home.
The flight from Hong Kong (13 hours) was interminable. Four films and three Sudoku puzzles later we finally landed at Heathrow. Our jolly taxi driver met us at the airport wearing a silly Christmas jumper, he was a welcome sight. He looked like an off-duty Santa. I slept for the
It was wonderful to fall into bed last night, we woke up at 3.00 a.m. and then gave up and got up for breakfast at 5.00 a.m. Paul made tea and porridge, the only food we have in the house. We opened the mountain of mail. Mostly junk but quite a few Christmas cards. I have been told I need to write my cards today and get them sent. I wasn’t going to bother.
It’s dark outside. The houses are all decorated with twinkling fairy lights. It’s nice to be home. I wonder what Buddy is doing ...