Flaming food

Boxing Day. Another day of fantastic food, some of it, as you can see, flaming. (Ewan also flamed the sprouts today.) There. That’s the title explained. Now for the day …

We slept in, because we could. We didn’t get across the road to the house till almost eleven, eating cereal and croissants and coffee way past a respectable breakfast time. The girls had gone up town to the sales; Himself and I marched along to Asda for more sprouts (the ones destined for the flames …) Unbelievably, a whole bag of them cost … 8p. First time I’ve ever used my credit card (via my watch) for a bill of 8p.

The girls returned. We watched Paddington and drank champagne. And then we ate again, and again it was wonderful. We played a crazy game - purchased by Catriona - in which everyone had to choose one of three options the chosen one selected as the most … icky. (The results were strangely interesting).

We watched The Glenn Millar Story ( I never have). Then four of us went for a walk . We saw the same ghostly heron as we spotted on the shore yesterday. We became separated when Catriona and I took a wrong turning but were reunited by the time we got back to the harbour.

Now - guess what - it’s almost midnight and I’ve not eaten since 3pm and feel no need for food ever again. And (shhh) I’ve not had a headache for two whole days.

Good, eh?