Over the last decade or so I have established a steady routine on Christmas Eve. It starts with the good intent of getting to the butcher by 0630 to collect the Turkey, then settling the car outside Waitrose by 0700 (parking is at a premium given the mass food shop for all). This should allow me to get into the store when it opens at 0730, utilising the list I drew up the night before and then be home for a bath and breakfast at 0900. Now that is the intent, but this year, as ever it didn't exactly work out that way. For a start Daughter woke up early and offered to help which delayed departure (and I was already running late). Then instead of trapping a parking slot and walking the butcher I took the car there first. The queue is a nightmare every year and it took an hour to reach the counter. Mind you conversation was lively as most of the villages to the east of Marlborough had been without power overnight and were worried it might not be restored. So we then had to park a distance from Waitrose, then things were in a different order and we threaded backwards and forwards before finally making it out around 0900. Later this afternoon I had to go back again having realised all the things I had forgotten, again an annual ritual. It always happens like this, sometimes it is Son not Daughter, sometimes solo. There are variations on a theme but it always takes too long.
One of these days it will all work as planned, but then it wouldn't be Christmas. Oh and I still haven't worked out a theme for the Christmas blogs, but that is a tradition as well.
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