And, hey, it wasn't too bad actually. I even managed to go to church with Lord H and it was all right. Mind you, we sang "Oh little town" and, as I think that's got the most profound first verse of all the carols, we couldn't really go far wrong. And the visiting preacher was quite human too and didn't blow a gasket when I said how much I hated that famous beginning to John 1 and isn't Christmas ruined by the fact that we have to have it each ruddy year? To my mind, a little sensible editorial work would in fact have either cut it entirely or at least placed it at the end of the whole book. Start with the action is what I say. Other highlights of the service were the new utterly adorable, round woolly sheep that have been added to the manger. I nearly pinched them for home but Lord H raised his eyebrows and groaned a little too loudly. But I filched two chocolates from the Christmas tree - hurrah!
The big Christmas pleasure though was at the African waterhole which we always visit whenever we can via webcam (http://www.wavelit.com/index.asp?ch=Wildlife&sh=africam#) there was a pride of lions having a Christmas meal of (dead) wildebeest. Marvellous - nature red of tooth and claw. I love it! Oh and we saw a green woodpecker in the garden, so that was grand too. If not quite as blood-thirsty as the lions.
Other Christmas pleasures - Lord H buying me a ballroom/Latin American dancing beginners' book and a DVD to go with it. I shall have twinkling toes indeed when I start my classes next year. Something to look forward to indeed. And "Doctor Who" and "The Vicar of Dibley" on TV were first-class.
Which brings us to:
Which has included a morning's (rather cold) golf, an afternoon snoozing in front of "Giselle" on TV and another evening's slump ahead. Bliss. Though I really ought to make a shopping list for tomorrow before the week gets too set in.
I have to admit that I'm enjoying the hols, but - being me - it will be marvellous to get back to our normal routine next week. I'm nothing if not a party pooper ...
Oh and I've just finished another marvellous book from Taichi Yamada - "In Search of a Distant Voice". Another Murakami in truth, and highly recommended. And I gave up on Andrew Martin's "The Lost Luggage Porter" at the end of Page 5: the hero has to be the most boring man on God's fictional earth. My advice is: don't bother. Stick to the Yamada instead.
Christmas' nice things:
1. Hungry lions in Africa
2. Dancing books/DVD
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