2009 — 25 December: Friday
This is now my third Xmas without1 Christa. Still weirdly unbelievable despite being perfectly normal and commonplace. Quite a paradox, that. Oh well, it's midnight again and some carol singers are warbling away on NPR. They've not even reached midnight over there, of course.
Some sleep is called for, ahead of our next walk.
G'night.
Xmas downunder
Lis tells me that Heather (niece #4) managed to find Bro his chocolate orange this year. It's a Mounce thing, it seems. Here he is, cooking up a seafood storm:
Garlic shrimps, squid rings, scallops and crayfish. Yikes. Doesn't seem to be much snow or ice around down there, does there?
Xmas upover
Just (15:52) back from a delightful walk up and around St Catherine's Hill, followed by a small glass of champers and a light late lunch of delicious smoked salmon, decent bread and butter, black pepper and lemon shared, conversationally, with five chaps (though not the dog, an unusual cross between a Labrador and a Rottweiler) all of delightful disposition. I shall be returning for an evening meal later on. There was still some ice around underfoot in the shady bits, and one car park down by the Itchen remained sheet ice. But the sun was out, the sky was blue, and the natives friendly. Some of the mud was quite spectacular.
As with (technically, without) the chocolate orange, so this is my first-ever Christmas without a relative in sight; an odd sensation.
Parental greetings
I've just had a chat with dear Mama. She's busily clearing out her unfestive kitchen to be able to clean the floor, but sounded happy enough. I think she realises it's Xmas (though I didn't push the point) and she also knows she has a birthday coming up in January though is unclear on the number (93, if anyone's counting). She's also on her own, you know. (And shocked, as ever, when I remind her that I'm retired and 58 years old myself.) Just think: three years ago Christa and I took her up a helium-filled balloon and delivered a printed festschrift prepared by Lis for her 90th. And I was a happily-married, newly-retired chap without a care in the world. My, how things change :-)
Speaking of which. There are now about 1,000 medical marijuana dispensaries in the Los Angeles area alone, according to city estimates; as a point of reference, there are fewer than 300 Starbucks outposts. But the MPAA still gets it wrong. (Source.)
Museum of Curiosity
(Too) early this morning, I missed this but am catching up now. What a trio of performers: Clive James, Tim Minchin and Philip Pullman. Great stuff.