Today feels like an unexpected holiday - I suspect the proximity of Christmas day to the last Sunday in Advent the past couple of years has led me to expect more stress than when it's further down the week, as it were. Just as well - I realise that the passing years have an effect on the stamina necessary to keep going at this pace.
So I'm blipping the midday walk we had on the shore road at Toward, simply because I love the light and the pale, bare trees lit up against the dark sky of the next shower (it was very heavy too).
Other than that, we took the parish Posada figures on the final leg of their journey (eg to the Rectory!) - hard to imagine a Mexican religious tradition in the rain-swept Cowal peninsula, and no, we didn't have a party though we did enjoy a few enjoyable minutes' blethering before we left. When we got home the post had come, among it a card from lovely friends in Canada who'd sent me a cover of a set of Leonard Cohen stamps, just because ... And I made Cranberry sauce, and I spent quite some time on the phone trying to encourage my very poorly pal, who has double pneumonia. Apparently this is something we're more prone to after the age of 65, which is alarming.
Tomorrow I must try to have (a) a long lie and (b) some longer-than-usual time crashed in front of the telly, but between the two I have to pack a case for going off, and locate the presents I've stashed around the house. But right now I'm going to eat some chilli, and the very thought of it is making me hungry.
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