I’ve barely seen any TV this Christmas, and as a result it’s been one of the best for years. Yesterday – Boxing Day – we drove in convoy down to Sal’s to spend the day at hers. Oscar spent his time alternately stalking her new mouse-topper slippers or lolling around on our laps to warm up again after an hour spent prowling in the cold.
We were far more sensible, staying indoors drinking bladder-bursting quantities of tea and playing Millionaire (I won), Mancala (Sal won) and Trivial Pursuit (Dad won).
The one concession we made to popular culture was the Dr Who Christmas special, which was a Very Good Thing indeed, as they seem to have poured what remained of the BBC end of year budget into an hour of ridiculous and uncredable (not incredible) drama. What’s the betting they release the seemingly seamless soundtrack as a soundtrack album in the new year?
Today? Well, I have work to do. Boo. But Viv will be back this afternoon and she’s promised to teach me Bezique as we eat herby olives and drink gin. All very deco, particularly as we’ll be using the almost antique set of cards and dials I inherited a few years ago and have been storing safely in my cupboard ever since.
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