…and we have been having fun.
I have been given not one, but two bars of Chanel soap, which has made me very pleased indeed, because now I have the incredible, and long-wished-for luxury of having one in the bathroom and one in my swimming bag ready for the day when the Beautiful Me Wellness Holistic Loveliness Spa re-opens its doors. This may be some time because it is raining very hard here and everybody whose kitchen has already been occupied by the lake a couple of times this month is getting their buckets out again.
Of course the thing about having children at Christmas is that they are so excited that they drag everybody out of bed in the middle of the night, and ours were no exception. Oliver was up and hopping from foot to foot at the end of our bed at quarter past nine this morning. We groaned and said that he had got to wake Lucy up before he was allowed to open his Christmas stocking, and thus bought ourselves another twenty minutes whilst he tried to coax her out of bed, but he managed it in the end, and by half past nine ish we were all assembled in the living room gasping with admiration at the generosity of Father Christmas, who to everybody’s happy astonishment had known exactly what the children would like for Christmas, what a splendid old chap he must be.
That was it for Christmas presents until after lunch, and the children retreated up to their floor to read new books and play new games, and Mark and I sat peaceably in our rocking chairs in front of the fire with coffee for a while until it was time to organise ourselves for lunch.
I love going out for Christmas lunch, if we didn’t then I wouldn’t at all bother putting on my favourite dress and high heels but would loll about in jeans and a comfortable jumper all day: but we all polished ourselves up to the best of our abilities and were ready just in time for the arrival of the taxi and Number One Daughter and family which happened almost simultaneously.
This was just as well, because Number One Son-In-Law had accidentally forgotten to pack the hair straighteners and they were having a domestic. I thought that Number One Daughter was being entirely unreasonable, because Number One Son-In-Law is a nice patient chap who does his best. I am quite sure I would not have been cross. Everybody knows that I am the very soul of sweet-natured loveliness and if it had been Mark I would just have smiled kindly and patiently and maybe wiped away a brave tear of disappointment before reassuring him that it didn’t matter at all, not one tiny bit.
Lunch was ace. I mean really ace. I mean unbelievably ace.
The hotel we went to is called the Ryebeck and if you are coming to the Lake District and like eating then I suggest you buy yourself some bigger trousers and book yourself in there. We started off with Buck’s Fizz and something that was supposed to be a sausage roll but in reality was possibly one of the nicest things I have ever eaten, golden savoury pastry stuffed with some sort of spicy ham. Then we had dinner, proper Christmas dinner with all of the trimmings and wine, and perfect, perfect olive bread with whipped butter with salt crystals, and I had an apple and cinnamon oaty crumble with cream for pudding, but alas, just could not squeeze the last mouthfuls in, and the lovely friendly staff had to almost prop us up as we staggered back to the taxi, round and full and very pleased with ourselves.
When we got home we all rushed to take off any clothes that were fitted in the waist region, and Number One Daughter borrowed some pyjamas for the afternoon: and then we opened our Christmas presents, which was a bit of a noisy free-for-all, especially since several people found Nerf guns wrapped up under the tree.
Ritalin Boy had a new bike, which we took for a spin around the Library Gardens, none of the resulting injuries turned out to be serious, and we emptied the dogs and marvelled at how quiet it was and had a little worry about the rain, and went home and hung our coats over the fire
Then Mark and Number One Son-In-Law did a special Difficult Puzzle that Mark had been given, which kept them quiet for ages, and the children retired back upstairs again, and Number One Daughter and I breathed a sigh of relief, as much as you can when your trousers are a bit tighter than before, and collapsed in front of the fire to read.
They have gone now, and we are tidying up ready for bed.
The picture shows some of our Christmas presents: a very nice wine-holding piggy which I loved, it made me laugh a lot, with some interesting-looking wine: and a gingerbread house that my parents sent to the children, for which nobody has got any room left now.
It has been splendid.
Merry, Merry Christmas.
