Ronan phoned tonight, which was lovely. he and Dora had a wonderful honeymoon but a shitty journey back, starting with a long delay at Bangkok airport and ending with their luggage not having arrived at Heathrow. It wasn’t so much lost as some baggage handler didn’t bother to put it on the plane. It’ll be returned in due course, apparently.
A couple more things are due to arrive tomorrow, otherwise I’ve got all presents. I haven’t iced the cake and can’t do so until I’ve got around to buying ground almonds and eggs. The chickens aren’t laying at present, though I suppose I might find an egg tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I shall change bedding, clean the house, ice the cake, wrap the presents and probably prepare some veg. I’ll also run through the carols for the service in the evening. I can’t find it all a lot of bother, it all happens on time and one is always ready, so there’s never any need to fuss. Or so I tell myself repeatedly until I’m convinced, anyway.
What I didn’t manage was writing Christmas cards. I’m sorry, darlings, especially those of you who kindly sent one to me. I even bought them – but I couldn’t do the writing. I’ll try again next year.
I had a beautiful bunch of flowers sent to me, which was a most welcome surprise. Ghastly as this year has been in so many ways, I have some lovely moments to remember.