Christmas Day

 

I had been dreading Christmas Day in a way, but it went well.

I decided soon after Celia died that I would not go down to Hampshire to see George, Amanda and Immi, but stay here by myself and do something useful. I really didn't think I could face the two hour trip on a day, when the radio is nothing but repeats. I had gone down on Sunday to see them and it is so much better, when there is something like live football on Radio 5.

After presents and breakfast, I walked the dogs and then I had my first phone call of the day from David. That helped, but it almost made me late to pick up the two ladies I was taking to the pensioners Christmas lunch in Bury St. Edmunds.

I enjoyed helping at the lunch, even if I was useless. At least I shall be better if I do it again next year. I probably will.

I sat next to another helper, who had Parkinson's Disease. We talked for a bit and he said how when he was diagnosed, he'd retired and was now busier than ever with various causes. He said he'd seen it as an opportunity, rather than a problem.

That is an admirable attitude.

I had more calls in the afternoon and then I cooked myself a turkey breast joint from Marks and Spencer. It was good, but a bit dry as I don't know how to make gravy and I'd forgotten to buy any cranberry sauce.

Here's a very bad picture of me toasting Celia.