Christmas Day, just the three of us. The best present is already unwrapped beside me. Time to spread a little Christmas cheer.
After opening our other presents, we take Doggo on the park and then on to the pub for a couple of hangover looseners, also known as Nottingham Legend.
Our Stilton pate proves to be excellent, as it the egg nog. It’s already proving to be quite an alcoholic day.
Christmas, they say, is not a time for change. So it's the same old turkey for most people, for the sake of (dubious) tradition. We do at least try and be different and I do find turkey very boring. So we tend to go for goose or sometimes duck but this year our goose's goose remains uncooked because after the kids deserted us for Christmas we decided to save him/her for when they are back on Boxing Day. A brief reprieve I know. Instead we have Sea Bass, a hurried replacement and very nice it is too.
Afterwards I suppose everyone will be settling in front of the same old TV as usual. Our only concession to Christmas Day TV this year is Robbie The Reindeer and possibly Keira Knightly's finest moment, although we do watch Scrooge that we taped last night.
The Christmas number one comes from those 'good' people at the X Factor. It is easily the worst record of the year, as is the tradition.
It’s very festive in our front room with the Christmas Tree and it’s lights, along with the candles we lit for our romantic Sea Bass feast. The dog is knackered, for some unknown reason, and stuck to the floor by his tongue. L is in her skirt and black tights again, looking very unwrapable. Daughter wouldn't approve but what the hell, she's not here.
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