It is a chill, damp sort of night, and we are on the taxi rank.
We thought that it would probably be very quiet, and so far we have been right.
There are a lot of taxis and not many customers, and so we are not expecting to make fortunes.
This is quite all right. It is still rather nice to be quiet after all of the Christmas hullabaloo.
Number One Daughter and her family have all gone, even Tonka.
They collected all of their things this afternoon and started off on their long journey south, except they are not going to go south straight away. They are going to spend tonight at Ritalin Boy’s Other Grandma’s house, from where they will be collecting even more stuff to lug back with them.
They have brought a car and a van, and they have filled them both.
They have forgotten the charger for the flying poo. I expect this was a dreadful accident and will post it first thing on Monday morning.
It is one of the very difficult things about Christmas, to have dozens of excitingly new things for which to find tidy homes, probably in a house that is already bursting with a wilting Christmas tree and dried-up holly and fallen decorations rolling about all over the carpet.
I am relieved to say that I have not got dozens of new things. I have hung the camper van calendar on the office wall, where I can stare dreamily at it and imagine being in the Canadian version of the outback. I have put the beeswax wraps in the drawer and put the candle on the dressing table, and that is all of my Christmas presents nicely tidied away.
Anything else has probably been drunk already.
I think that it has been one of the nicest Christmases. We said goodbye to Number One Daughter today and congratulated ourselves on not having felt cross or impatient with one another. It is quite hard not to feel grumpy when there are a lot of people living in a very small space, especially when every single inch of floor has got a dog on it. We have all managed very politely, however, and it has been rather splendid to be all together.
It will be easier still when we have finished building the conservatory. Life is always better when there is a handy place to hang coats and not trip over each other’s shoes.
Number One Daughter said that she would like to come again one day, probably in about five years. I expect we will just about have it finished by then.
Apart from waving them a cheery goodbye, we have not really achieved very much with our day. Mostly this was because the night shift seemed to go on for ages last night, and the grandfather clock was striking six when we collapsed into bed.
After this we did not wake up until lunchtime.
The children did not have the excuse of being at work, but they did not wake up until lunchtime either. They are both sleeping a very great deal at the moment, it is like having dormice to stay. I think they have had challenging lives for the last few months, and are exhausted. Neither of them have got dressed since Christmas.
The picture illustrates the reason that I am happy to have some gentle tranquillity now that it is all over. It is me at our Christmas party. I am holding hands with Number One Daughter, in a forceful sort of way, to encourage her not to flick the glass and spray red wine up my nose.
I drank it all in the end, and suffered the consequent headache.
It is so nice to be quiet.
