There’s only one day to go, so I guess I got away with it again. Good. Strike that one up to good fortune and a great team.

In other news, I received the best and most perfect wrap present.

I’ve been teaching my son how to count backwards, using counting songs.

Old MacDonald had an abattoir has proved useful.

The country is going into full lockdown again, because the infection rate is up.

In years to come, scholars may examine these snippety musings to see if they can distill any sense about what was going on, from the mind of an uncommon commoner.

For the avoidance of doubt, this will be a waste of a research grant.

We took a walk and saw the normals in the field. They stood together, ignoring the limit on numbers and of space. Jostling. Pressing. Trying to ensure that they all could enjoy the same breath. Singing. They probably licked each others faces.

It remains unsurprising that the pandemic is so problematic when the opportunity for considerate thought is ignored in such a way.

On the plus side, we did manage to sledge.

It isnt even Christmas Eve, and already, I have wrapped some presents.

It wouldn’t be Christmas without the decorations falling from the wall. Those that fell today had been up a matter of hours. Paper chains that drooped and then guarded the doors of the hall, as the loops came unstuck and the festivities found themselves grounded.

Back in the *early place* where I grew up, I was always tremendously excited when the decorations went up. The excitement wasn’t typically shared by everyone, particularly if they were fully grown up, in adult form, and responsible for attaching things to the cornicing.

In that house, the decorations were truly transformative. At night, I would often sit at the top of the stairs, looking down in awe and wonder at the magic of crepe and tissue banners stretched across the hall, multi-coloured fairy lights, and cards from across the land.

If I was a cat
I’d wear a large hat and
chat, with a bat

But I wouldn’t
sit
on a mat