It is turning into a jolly splendid Christmas.
Our undressed photographs arrived just in time for Christmas, I have attached one at the top of this entry in a spirit of celebratory seasonal happiness. They are absolutely beautiful, our photographer friend is very clever, and have made us feel very pleased with the world, what an ace Christmas present.
I am feeling so very pleased with the world I am finding it hard to stop myself rushing into shops and things and wishing everybody a merry Christmas. We have had an ace day: we were just telling ourselves yesterday that it is no terrible thing to come out of all the Christmas festivities just a couple of hundred pounds overdrawn, lots of people are much worse off, and we needn’t beat ourselves up about it because it isn’t very much and we will earn it back in the end.
Then this morning there was a brown envelope on the mat and it was a cheque from the Inland Revenue, wishing us seasonal happiness and good wishes for the New Year. I made the last bit up, obviously, actually it just said: here is your tax overpayment back, but all the same I rushed round to the bank in great high spirits, and everybody behind the counter celebrated with me and showed me the photographs of their rascally Christmas party, which made me laugh. I came out wanting to skip down the street like a five-year-old with a gold sticker and a Good Girl Lollipop.
So we have gone into Christmas not overdrawn, and with a house bursting with mince pies and French cognac and nice things, and a life overflowing with the nicest people in it. We have had presents and cards from all sorts of unexpected places, it is very exciting. Under the tree is a pile of beautifully wrapped things looking fantastic, in gold and scarlet and green, tied up with pretty ribbons. They are almost too lovely to open, people have tried so hard to make everything look perfect. It is splendid to look at them all and imagine our family and friends carefully folding coloured paper and tying bows, it makes me feel very touched and happy.
I spent most of the day carefully ironing our Manchester clothes and scenting them with rosewater ready for next time, and cooking. We don’t eat here on Christmas Day, we go out, which I like very much, because otherwise I finish up red-faced and sticky and anxious and deploring everybody else’s lack of understanding about the struggles of being a chef. Number One Daughter and her family are coming, which is absolutely ace, I am so excited about it: but between them they can eat like starving jackals. Because of this and the washing up, we go to a very nice hotel in Bowness, which we like because it is sophisticated, and has a log fire and superb food, but also because it is one of the few places that will entertain Ritalin Boy without complaint, which is something of a bonus.
However I decided that I would cook tonight, because of not wanting to feel left out of the world’s culinary angst, and also because it has novelty value, so I made some stuffing out of breadcrumbs and brazil nuts and apricots and half an onion that has been hanging about in the fridge for ages, and sage out of the garden, and shoved it inside a butter-drenched chicken.
We had it for dinner, which was satisfying, and then sat down to watch a DVD together, which was joyfully interrupted by the noisy arrival of Elspeth and her excited family to wish us a happy Christmas, so of course we had to stop watching things and drink wine instead, which was perfect.
We ate mince pies and chocolates and the children dived off upstairs to squeak and giggle and do youthful things, and we sat peacefully around the kitchen table and thought about the year that we had had and felt happy with everything.
The children are going to hang up stockings later. We will do this as late as possible because nobody wants to be woken up in the morning by people who are far too excited to stay in bed, plenty of coffee and a gentle start is the thing. With any luck we won’t find out if Father Christmas has visited until about half past ten.
We know we are very fortunate indeed. We have got a lovely life.
I hope yours is as well.
Merry Christmas.
