Cat sick

What's that on the floor under the Christmas tree, asked CG yesterday evening, reaching down to pick it up. And then retracting his hand rather hurriedly. For there, amongst the presents waiting to be unwrapped this morning, was a little pile of cat sick. Thanks Max!

It is Christmas Day, the presents are now all unwrapped and are being enjoyed, Gaia has closeted herself away in her room to commune with her laptop, Hedda is starting her first journal and marking it PRIVATE, Titus is building a tractor park in the living room. Outside, the snow just won't stop and the neighbours are shovelling away to their heart's content, casting curious glances at us (which we are actually used to by now) and our strange British habit of celebrating on 25th December. CG and I are about to launch a pre-emptive attack on the massive lunchtime calorie onslaught by venturing out for a run. Merry Christmas, dear blog-readers! xxxxxxx