Iron Age drinks

Surprisingly the turkey was in the oven by 11am and everything else was as it should so and so off we headed to the nearest Iron Age wheel-house for some Christmas cheer.
Neighbours duly arrived and slightly later their sons one with a set of bagpipes, soon skirling away. A couple of bottles of French fizz and one of Orkney uisge-beatha seemed to evaporate at quite a rate before our return to a cooked turkey with all the trimmings and more.
So many trimmings that the pudding remained untouched for the rest of the day whilst the TV provided a soporific background.