Gifts to the servants day.....

.....ever wondered why it's called Boxing Day? You'll get at least five competing theories on google. I prefer to think it's the day we cut-up the boxes our christmas presents came in and re-cycle them.

Slow start with snoozing bodies lying in every comfortable space around the house. The sleepers are a hangover from our excellent party last night; which culminated in lively debate between the brothers McLaughlin whilst the amused and bemused looked on. The meal was the usual glutony marathon, followed by Skype calls to Paris and Brussels to chat avec famille.

Nancy had to work at M&S from 7am, so I carefully used the time she was out working to sleep. On her return, we saddled up and visited my sister and family in Lamancha. Just as I was beginning to feel less than stuffed, I ate another obscene portion of poultry with all the trimmings. Lovely day.

Back in EmbraLeith now, watching Xmas TV and supping on left-over drinks.