Boxing Day or not…

Hilarious, the confusion created by the different competing claims about today - is it Boxing Day? The Feast of Stephen? Or just Sunday because there’s going to be a holiday tomorrow to make up for this being … Sunday … and suddenly it’s acquired some odd limbo-esque status and I’m not so much confused as indifferent.

It was, however, relaxed and lovely, beginning with breakfast at 11am, followed by a walk (leaving the granddaughters still in bed). Then more champagne, more wonderful food and subsequent collapse of stout party - but not before Ewan had burned some Oud in the incense burner and made us spice-flavoured Arabic coffee with dates to accompany…

Blipping Anna, the youngest, lighting candles with the aplomb of an acolyte.