|If today's Boxing Day, it must be Monday.
||[Dec. 26th, 2016|08:52 pm]
Exactly a week ago we were still in London - back at King's Cross, but this time waiting for our train. One week on and - well, I won't say that it's all over, because I'm a firm believer in the twelve days of Christmas, a period of not exactly twelve days that starts on Christmas Eve and ends on the debatable territory of Twelfth Night, traditionally defined by the fesrival of ghost stories that is Phantoms at the Phil.
Nonetheless, we have had a busy time since that train brought us north (which is why I have not yet posted about the rest of our stay in London). Since the activities listed in my last post, we ate a celebratory Birthday Eve lunch with a friend whose birthday is Christmas Day; we watched Saving Mr Banks, which was, as Victoria Coren Mitchell led me to expect, entertaining and interesting, but very obviously a one-sided account of a disagreement (pretty, though).
And then it was Christmas morning, and time to visit S., first for the Christmas morning party she has held for maybe twenty years, with a shifting personnel as people drop out because the children are no longer compliant babies, then in again as the children grow up - and accompany their parents. No grandchildren this year, but planty of good conversation, and the odd surprise (the person who said, "Actually, I voted 'leave'" and had her reasons). We stayed on after the party, and chatted to Gail who had returned unexpectedly from Whitby, while S. cooked her goose and did all the hard work. The goose was excellent, and I had chosen a Uruguayan tannat to accompany it, which worked very well.
So it's definitely not over, but a milestone has been passed. Now for a quieter couple od days - but first, the Doctor!