At last, the Fat Lady. . .

. . . has given it her all. She opened her mouth, she sang, and it's ALL OVER. We can go back to being normal again. (Do you need to know I'm typing this practically in the dark? Something is wrong with the fuse for the kitchen lights, and they haven't been on all day. Cooking is chancy, washing up is very sub-standard and blogging is totally out of the question.) We are enjoying the last few days of the Christmas decorations before they go back into the attic. Here's our tree, which the children HATED - Jeremy put me in charge, so we got tasteful gold. The year he puts The Brood in charge of the tree, they can do whatever they like.

Beri spent last night being sick, poor fellow, but he has now got to an age where it will wake him up BEFORE he sicks up over himself, all his bedding, the wall and the carpet. At least twice. So he and I had a very quiet day inside, while Jeremy was at work (poor man) and K and S went off with friends, and we waited for a delivery of firewood that I was finally told was being delivered tomorrow. BORRR-RING!.

And we have been badly infected by the Racing Demon bug. The Landaus spent New Year's Eve with us, and we were up 'til 2:30 playing. Jeremy and I taught Kit, and now we keep him up WAY past his bedtime for 'just one more game'. PLEASE don't tell Social Services.