White Christmas

It's become something of a tradition now that I join Carl and his parent for lunch on Christmas Day. His sister and bother-in-law and their two children come over every second year, but this wasn't one of them. Originally it looked as if it would only be the four of us, but Carl's Mum invited a neighbouring couple also and at the last minute another couple decided to trust their four-wheel-drive to get them up from the depths of snowed-in Wicklow.

So we were eight around the Christmas table, and we had a most wonderful day. Certainly, the weather couldn't have been more seasonal. Carl had gone to church with his folks and I was following on for lunch, so he kept me advised about conditions. The house is on a height overlooking Killiney Bay, and access is by way of a steep laneway connecting the higher and lower roads. I'd been warned that it wouldn't be possible to drive down from the upper road, so I parked down by the DART station and made my way up through the garden through knee-deep snow. All very seasonal as I say, but somehow I suspect that less people will be wishing for a white Christmas next year.

After a wonderful day with "the folks", we retired to Carl's place. I hate to admit that I have no memory five months later what we did, though I'd say the chances are good that we had a few drinks and watched something in Carl's Kino.