"Until the day break"

I woke at 7 with a tummy ache (short lived) and it was still dark, so I pottered around, fed Bomble and made some tea, till eventually CleanSteve woke, and we realised that Santa might have been and left some strange stuffed cushion covers and a scrawled note about not being able to find the stockings....

It was a glorious day, so after the various bits and bobs had been attended to, we decided to walk in the cemetery/nature reserve adjacent to our house. Imagine CleanSteve's delight when the first family we met were led by a black Lab, Molly, who recognised him and greeted him with much delight even though he has not walked her for SEVEN YEARS! I used to walk her in Wales when she was a puppy, in 2006. I think we may need to start walking her again. Loyalty is fantastic.

The sky was blue as blue (my camera has no true manual mode, so this is it on auto, but it really was bright blue) and we met some dog walkers; some families trying out their new Christmas rollerblades; some gentlemen of the road enjoying a bottle on a bench, some birds that CleanSteve will tell you about later; and of course lots of graves, some of which I know but some I'm still learning about. It's a massive cemetery, quite wild in places.and I sometimes take a walk through when I catch the bus to the gates, or cut through on my way back from volunteering at the primary school/children's centre. I've blipped it many times before.

I liked this very fancy tomb, which is dedicated to the memory of the Victorian John Thomas Marston Smedley, who died 26th July, 1875, aged 34. I don't know who he was, but...STOP PRESS, I do now! He was the third "long John Smedley' in the family line. And he died so young! Stroud had a woollen cloth industry, which might explain the link with textiles made in Matlock, Derbyshire. The monument has angels on the corner, but the inscription, Until the day break, is the same as on my grandmother's, although hers is in Gaelic (Cus am bris an la).

If I were in Scotland at my mother's house, I'd pop up to visit my granny's grave today, in Achnaba cemetery, next to the house. My mother has recently told me she wants to be buried in the same grave, too, and has booked her 'bunk'. When I walked to the graveyard on Christmas day with my niece from Greece, years ago, she told me that Scottish graveyards were nicer than Greek ones, "where people go to dump their washing machines".

After our walk, we sat and watched the birds feeding in the bright sunshine for about an hour, then had our favourite veggie lunch, which Steve cooked, and then more pressies, and now we've got the fire lit and CleanSteve and Bomble are fast asleep! Bomble has been very funny today, he even tried nibbling the icing on the Christmas cake to get our attention vis a vis food! It is no stranger than picking up paper clips, rubber bands or jigsaw pieces and tossing them around to get my attention, but it does make me wonder whether he is a cat or a monkey.

Today I have not had to cook: hurrah! Made the (Christmas special) ice cream and mackerel pate last night, and the sauce for today's dish was pre-cooked and frozen, so that was easy. We will have Christmas pudding some day, just not today. Finally, Happy Christmas (again) to every one who celebrates it, and especially to those who are struggling with illness, unemployment, poverty, bereavement, or simply the change in routine.