Christmas 2022

On the afternoon dog walk yesterday Ezra said, 'you always say that' as I noted that the festive day had been so far possibly the best ever. How nice to think that generally all of the Christmas days had been 'the best'. Scanning the years I can only actually think of one that had been truly awful - for me anyway - which mostly featured staring at the interior of a blue washing up bowl during a bout of food poisoning while everyone else ate, drank and made, I assume, merry downstairs. 

My childhood Christmas days sometimes took place at another family's house where Mum was being employed as a temporary housekeeper - slightly strange as we stayed in a distant upstairs part of whichever house it was while the family festivities carried on downstairs. I can recall sneaking downstairs and peering in at a huge Christmas tree rather like an impoverished Dickensian character. The more usual ones were spent with relatives in Dorset, wonderful days full of endless present giving in their cosy thatched cottage, walks in the countryside, terrible 70s TV . . . 

                                                                 Christmas day 2022

Yesterday was pretty much perfect as a small family Christmas day: usual routines to start with, nut roast, wood fires, dog walks, marvellous presents, Mark's Christmas cake, chats with lovely family and friends, board game and finally, the Christmas film go-to for us, black and white 40s, Champagne Charlie. (Tommy Trinder)

Ezra's present of hand made wooly wrist warmers featuring the very famous (it's a family thing...) words, 'Hi, I'm Barry Scott'.

For all those I know, love and appreciate, I hope you all had a most warm, memorable and happy day. We raise a glass of (the one intake-of-breath festive indulgence we purchased) a local, prized bio crémant - to you all.

Happy Christmas 2022. 

                     Mark's Christmas cake featuring my mother's Inuit seal soapstone sculpture