More traditions. Christmas Eve, first thing. Collect the turkey.
Shame about the weather.
The same little posse of people outside, waiting to go in and get it done. At least this year we were a good-humoured bunch who shared our disapproval of the man who’d come wearing his pyjamas. We have standards!
I’d got most of the things we needed yesterday but there were a few that I’d forgotten/decided to leave till today.
My hero was rather pleased to be able to claim the first turkey collection of the day – and he assures me, he didn’t run
Before leaving, I thought I’d check out a newspaper cover that I’d heard about on the radio as I was getting up. Is the Mirror turning Welsh then? Or could there be another reason for the way they styled the masthead this morning? I’m sure you worked it out a bit quicker than some around here and realised it’s a small tribute to my online chum Stasher?
Time to go home then.
Let the fun begin!