After six hours sleep I was up at eight, finishing off this morning's sermon and printing it. Amazingly, everyone was up by nine thirty, which meant I was able to have breakfast with them before driving over to St German's. It rained fairly steadily throughout daylight hours - a miserable dark day, not that it matters much when life is centred around the family table, but we all felt robbed of daylight fresh air. It was the mid-evening before the rain abated sufficiently to permit an hour's walk in the dark.
We were eighteen for the Mass, many present were also there for the Vigil Mass last night. Nobody wanted to hang around and chat afterwards, least of all me. The kitchen was a hive of industry by the time I arrived, and there wasn't much I could do apart from dry cooking utensils and return them to their proper place. The table was set and the food ready by two. We sat and feasted on turkey, roast veggies and chestnut casserole, followed by a pre-covid era Christmas pudding. We drank a Beaune Pinot Noir, then a Chateauneuf du Pape, and started a Crozes-Hermitage - wines irrigated by the waters of the Rhone, drinking somewhat less than previous years when we got through five bottles between us. I think we're all that much older, fitness conscious, less inclined to overeat these days, preferring higher quality over quantity. Covid has made us all think more about self preservation I guess.
Then came our grand present opening ceremony, during which I was overwhelmed by fatigue. Owain calls it 'food coma'. December has been pretty taxing, and this last week pretty intensive one way or another. I had tomorrow's sermon to produce before anything else. There was a re-run of a fifty year old Command Performance variety show hosted by Morecombe and Wise followed by the Christmas movie 'Elf' for the evening's viewing. I slipped out for a walk in the dark after the first hour of comedy, and managed to get to bed properly before midnight, definitely feeling my age.
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