|There's more to life than running.....|
The weather did it's level best to dampen our spirits over the Christmas period with lashings of rain, high winds, flooded fields, muddy paths and mist enshrouded hills. Our Christmas Eve carol singing around the village was cancelled on account of us not having enough hands to hold a lantern, an umbrella and turn the pages of flapping hymn sheets all at the same time! So in lieu of the usual mince pies and mulled wine to conclude the evening we retired to our own warm stove, had a wee dram and went early to bed.
We'd intended having a short run on Christmas morning but the day dawned dark and diabolical. The farthest we ventured out was precisely one metre, as far as our elderly neighbour's front door - conveniently next to ours. She'd a wonderful antidote to the climatic conditions in the form of a fine selection of festive elevenses - on condition that yours truly used his considerable strength to dislodge the cork from a very fine bottle of champagne. We returned home at lunchtime leaving her in a rather convivial mood - and with an almost empty bottle!
|Aladdin's Cave - the larger prezzies are in the annexe......|
Santa Claus had been rather generous. We suspect his sack felt rather heavy as he staggered around after all the sherry and mince pies, so had dumped most of it's contents under our tree. By the time we'd unwrapped everything the house was beginning to look like Aladdin's cave. So a huge thankyou to the legion of friends and relatives who gave Santa all those wonderful ideas! We're not sure where we'll put everything - apart from the Laphroaig and Damson Gin. I've already thought of a good place for those! As darkness fell we drew the curtains, shut out the weather and celebrated in style, a full Christmas dinner with all the trimmings and a nice Chardonnay to put us in mellow mood. It was a Very Happy Christmas.
|A damp run by the river on Boxing Day|
The sun shone for almost an hour on Boxing Day morning, chance for a longish run if we hadn't had to drive to Austwick to visit an old friend and deliver prezzies. By the time we got home in the early afternoon the weather had deteriorated, but we managed a short four miles around Burnsall, returning along the riverbank as it started raining again. A dipper in best bib and tucker curtseyed to the Queen on a mossy stone before plunging into the watery depths in search of his own ideas of turkey and mince pies - or even Brussel sprouts!
There was more socializing, more eating, more drinking, more laughter and conviviality in the company of some running and mountaineering friends before a line was finally drawn under the protracted Christmas festivities on Thursday night. I'm ashamed to admit that running over the festive period amounted to a mere ten miles, not nearly enough to burn off the thousands of excess calories consumed in that short space of time. And there'll be more to come when we've shot the haggis and marinated it according to a delightful Scottish recipe to celebrate Hogmanay. Bring on the New Year - not least of all for me to enjoy a well deserved rest!