The pic shows Daisy at the top of the steps of our local supermarket, where we just went to collect her parcel from Uncle Simon (Sarah’s brother).

En route, we stopped by the butcher on our street to pick up our joint of pork for Christmas lunch. What a fantastic little place. Well, it would be if they made proper sausages. But they do have turntable playing seventies music, in compensation.

Things have slowed down a little. I put up the remainder of our venetian blinds. Took a call from an Irish client who makes high-absorption iron tablets. Now I’m cooking a Boxing Day lunch with the leftover turkey that we won’t be having but have substituted with chicken.

Even the bus conductor police are wishing people God Yule.