Preparations for Christmas are barrelling along like a hobbit escaping from a host of grumpy elves.
That is to say, there is a lot of bumping around, crashing into things, and feeling slightly sick with the whole shebang.
There is so very much to do.
I have bought all the Christmas presents I want to buy, rather more than I want to buy, actually, and have puzzled myself into a stupor trying to work out how to accomplish some of the more difficult challenges posed by modern shopping on the mighty Internet.
I have booked parties and trains and dinners. I have downloaded and uploaded and emailed and messaged and shared. I am a thoroughly modern citizen of the digital age.
I have given myself a headache.
Mark was busy with Christmas preparations as well. He has wrapped things and packed things and generally assisted with the digital cyber-purchasing adventure.
Even Lucy has been helping, because now that she is eighteen she has qualified as a real grown up and can venture behind the scenes into the pre-Christmas organisation. She was mildly surprised to find that the true sound of Christmas magic being created is not elvish laughter and sleigh bells tinkling, but frustrated grown ups swearing, and shouting for cups of tea.
She has designed our Christmas card again. Like last year’s it is splendidly drawn, although rather less than flattering, she is very clever. It will be going into hasty production tomorrow, because of the last posting dates for foreign parts having crept up on us rather sooner than expected.
Even on the taxi rank this evening the electronic excitement has not ceased. Communications have been flying back and forth, and even Mark got in my taxi wanting to know how Amazon lists work.
This was a good sign. I have got an Amazon list.
It certainly seems that I am not on my own. Every taxi customer seems to be occupied with Christmas arrangements one way or another. Lots of the hotels here are not only open, but full, over Christmas, and an awful lot of people will be at work.
I have heard it said in my taxi this evening, without either irony or humour, that it was a good thing that the pubs here stay open on Christmas day, because otherwise what would the men do whilst their wives were cooking Christmas dinner?
I did not dignify this with a reply, because it is hard to justify chucking people out just because I think they are a mad dinosaur, although I have come close. Last night somebody said to his wife that he would not allow her to drive as fast as I did, which resulted in an immediate halt and me asking her politely if she would like me to chuck him out.
She declined, although I wished she had taken me up on it.
I did eject one chap last night, a youth who compared the rising fare on my taxi meter to a certain part of his anatomy. I told him that I did not wish to have my imagination soiled by such revolting images, and obliged him to leave the taxi, much to the unsympathetic amusement of his companions.
He had already given them the cash for his share of the fare. I should think he had a chilly walk home.
I have had enough of looking at a computer screen for one day, all of this twenty first century shopping is all splendidly convenient but wearisome. I am going to wish you an early goodnight and go and read my book.
I shall see you tomorrow.
