Believe it or not, today is the second day of Christmas, the day you receive the proverbial two-turtle doves, and also traditionally the last day to give presents. That, dear hypothetical reader, is why we refer to it as boxing-day, which actually has nothing to do with the sport, or punching is others lights out. Now you are educated, and education is the best gift you could wish for; my gift to you.
I’m writing this on the ancient computer at my parents house, where everyone else is still in bed, despite the hour. I spent 90% of yesterday reading the autobiography of the incomparably funny Micheal McIntyre, and eating things that weren’t good for me. Here, in what is sometimes called a hometown, it snowed a lot. It snowed so much that two foot (I may be exaggerating) of the stuff settled, and despite no more downfall, it hasn’t melted yet. Essentially we had as close to a white Christmas as we were going to get without taking a trip to Iceland. Unfortunately, the conditions meant my poor cat Shumi, was unable to venture out. Primarily he’s a house-cat, because he’s just a bit lazy, but he does like to lounge around in the garden, and chase crickets. He doesn’t like to get wet, and like most cats, he doesn’t like to be cold, and he’s a foreign white. When we finally relented and let the little monster outside, we were punished.
My little pet sat outside un-bothered for a short while, before plodding around the garden amongst bird-tracks, becoming confused as to why his little paws sunk into the ground. All we could see were two little blue ovals twinkling in the winter light, and a wrinkled pink triangle. For five minutes after returning to the comforts of inside, he screamed bloody murder, then sat of various laps in an attempted to be less wet and cold, and more dry and warm.
My parents are in a dispute as to whether or not the snow will continue by new year. My mother keeps insisting the clouds are ‘grey enough’, my father retorts they are ‘too high’. My sisters and I are taking bets on who will prove correct, if she looses my elder sibling will go bankrupt (that whole sentence is a lie).
Sorry you are not viewing this with pictures yet; as stated, my parents computer is about four years old, and was born in the era before card-readers were built into PC towers. I will upload them at a later date. I have a book review for you soon.
I hope you had a grand Christmas day with many partridges in many pear-trees, and I don’t mean the literal or biblical sense (unless those are what you desire).