Well, the holiday season has now well and truly descended. I'm at work right now and the place is dead, prompting the question, "What the fuck am I doing here?". That question will soon be answered with "Screw you guys, I'm going home." Which will be met with deafening silence insofar as there's not a single auditory nerve in the place to pick up on it.
My sister Michelle (aka Little Peanut) arrived last Thursday to spend the holidays in England's balmy climes. It was great to see her after no familial interaction for around 21 months now. She was minus one case however (boo!) but not the one with the presents in it (hurrah!). Still, a rapid £150 insurance covered shopping spree on Friday night soon fixed that. It eventually turned up yesterday so once more all is well in the wardrobe department. She also got a rapid walking tour of the City on Saturday afternoon - St. Paul's, the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, et al. - before the cold drove us into Borough Market for some dried cranberries and then home. By Christ it was cold. Short aside: If you're in London and haven't been to Borough Market before, hie thee hence when you get a spare moment ... it's a true foodies heaven.
And so to Christmas. The Dogs and Dane and Jodi and whomever else turns up will be crashing over tonight and then it'll be all hands to battlestations tomorrow morning before thirteen (or thereabout) antipodean souls sit down to a late lunch. I am so going into delegation mode it's not funny: a kick-arse megaphone will be at the ready so beware my organisational wrath. Updates and booty reports as they come to hand.
All that's left for me to do here is to wish one and all a fantastic break with your nearest/dearest/most-easily-put-up-with or even solo if you're that way inclined. Eat well, drink well and be merry in a well fashion also. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night afternoon.
‹ 25.12.01
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