Sarah and Kat are ensconced on the sofa drinking mulled wine and watching Goggle Box. Rick is asleep under the table. I am attempting to boil a ham that is too big for the pan. Our Christmas has begun.
Sarah arrived safe and sound complete with luggage yesterday evening. There was probably less congestion on the motorway than any other day, partly thanks to the temporary removal of all road works. She was awake in the early hours so she accompanied Paul to the supermarket to do the Christmas shopping. I made them a list but they mainly ignored it.
I escaped the shopping hell and took Rick for his morning walk. It was still dark and the Christmas lights in the neighbourhood were magical. They seem very tasteful this year, white lights twinkling in the trees and bushes, not a plastic inflated Santa in sight. We had the roads and park to ourselves so Rick was perfectly behaved. We crossed the park and were about to cross the road when a posse of joggers suddenly appeared in their psychedelic lycra pounding along pavement towards us. Panic! I held Rick’s lead tightly waiting for him to go berserk but miraculously he was more interested in sniffing a bush and completely ignored the joggers. As we walked away I noticed a cat on the other side of the bush. Rick loves puss cats.
Rick has now come out from underneath the table and is stretched out on Sarah’s lap. Sarah’s eyes are closing; she’s fighting the jet lag.