Seven swans a-swimming

Very nice lunch with my old boss Mr B who has left urban life behind and is pictured here in bucolic idyll with pickaxe and pastures new. Excellent food and wine and good to catch up, although it's a long way to go into the depths of the countryside.

Girl Racer is now off skiing and got there safely after a long 24 hour coach trip. The Dizzle had friends over for afternoon tea and cucumber sandwiches. Okay he had friends over, no idea what for. Chillaxing. Top Gun working every Sunday and dealing with the Christmas rush.

Knackered now. Need an early night with the Christmas Radio Times ...

As for George and Stella...

Christmas 2008.

It was very very cold, not that the twins seemed to mind. They walked along the towpath at Kingston, Lauren with her boyfriend Gregor being dragged along by his scarf, Luther deep in conversation with his mother. George tailed along a few yards behind, feeling flat. As usual the swans were out in force; he tried to count seven, as in the words of the song, but they kept moving. He couldn't force them to stay still in his head. What's so special about swans anyway he thought, and pulled out his new smartphone, a present from the rest of the family. The internet connection actually seemed to work. According to Wikipedia there was no meaning to the twelve days of Christmas; it was just a song about a man giving presents to his true love. Despite claims of catholic allegory and the annually recalculated cost of all the gifts, it was really just a bit nonsense.

He stopped and stared at the birds swimming in the water. They often came here. He had seen this year's cygnets grow out of their brown juvenile plumage; although distinguishable by size they would soon be adult swans and would move on ...

A fat tear rolled down his face. He didn't notice the intense family conference taking place; then Luther and Lauren came up and sandwiched him in a big hug.

"Mum says you're about as emotionally opaque as a piece of highly polished glass" said Luther "although god knows why she puts it like that. Why can't she just say she can see right through you". Stella stood a few yards away smiling lovingly.

"Sorry" said George. "I'm a bit daft, I know".

"No" said Lauren. "You're lovely. Bit of a geek. Need to lose a bit of weight. Great cook - most of the time. You're our dad and we love you. Sorry we had to grow up."

"It all happened so fast" said George. "One minute you were just kids screaming and pulling off the wrapping paper and playing party games. Now look at you...I love you too. Just can't believe that you're off to University next year".

"We'll always be family" said Luther. "Come on. Sod the swans. They're nasty birds anyway. Let's go get some tea somewhere".

Stella took him by the arm and they walked back towards civilisation, lights twinkling as the twilight took hold.

"You know swans mate for life" she said "just like us. I'm sorry about your crisis at Christmas but they have to grow up and fly the nest."

"Or swim away" said George. The swans had disappeared up river. "Apparently the song has no meaning. It's just a song."

"What song?"

"Twelve days of Christmas".

"Oh that. Don't be daft. Of course it has meaning. It means Christmas is there to be enjoyed, particularly when you love someone. George you have a tendency to over-complicate things. Just enjoy things for what they are. You don't have kids any more, you have two adults who are your best friends and always will be. Just adapt."

They walked off in the direction of the last rays of the dipping sun as the swans took to the air, and disappeared 'round a bend in the river.