Dec 26, 2014

Post-Night Boxing Day

Poor old Nicole toddled off to work last thing on Christmas night, after a day bereft of preparatory sleep and not looking too terribly happy about it.

With the usual mixed success at night-time slumbering afforded to us by our recalcitrant junior team-member, I was somewhat jaded the next morning when she returned, though to describe her as jaded would be something of an understatement; still she discharged further Skype duties with admirable aplomb before collapsing in a heap while the remaining noisy Gavinators made ourselves scarce.

I must admit that we can't have to got up to anything very exciting. We may in fact have only really made it to the other end of the house. Certainly at some point a car appeared on our drive, and I thought either Christmas had come late or else next Christmas had come very early as there were no actual people associated with it, but then I realised that it was Carole's car and she was using our drive as a convenient parking space while she visited a couple of doors up before coming back to us to give those lucky kiddies even more presents. So no new car for us. In the words of Lyra, "Not funny."

At some other point, we had a visitation from Peter, and we talked about the inevitable impoverishment of almost everybody as the velvet glove of relentless automation makes our skills irrelevant and our labour redundant. And cuddly animals.

Later on, when heat permitted, we went for a very short walk with Peppa Pig, Lyra pushing her in the trike. As you can imagine, that didn't last long.

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