Yuletide cheer - not yet.

No-one in our family seems to be having fun at the moment. The Cornish family are suffering from a virus that isn't about vomiting so still have that pleasure in store. Sandy is OK but predictably homesick at night and as he is one of these strange beings who Can't Sleep (unlike his grandmother who seems to sleep all the time) if it continues there may have to be an emergency rescue dash, always supposing I manage to stay clear of dastardly bugs.

Hey ho. It's all this trying to be cheerful that's to blame in my opnion. Abolish Christmas and we'd be better off in more ways than one.

I have packed and dispatched two very large boxes, confidentally expecting to see them boomerang back here, as has happened in the past at this time of year. Whilst I fought with one this morning I remembered, unfondly, parcels I have dispatched over the years since the children started to wander - mainly to Costa as he alternately ski-ed and windsurfed. There was a Christmas pudding and cake that I fear never did make it into the principality of Andorra, and then there were the skis that had to be sent to an almost inaccessible part of France (or so I was told by the courier service as they held out their hands for their extortionate fee.) The French postal service in those days was erratic at best. I think the skis got where they were wanted in the end but it had been a difficult wrapping operation involving a lot of old underwear instead of bubble wrap which is too easily pierced.

Just had a phone call from Sandy who is bewailing my stay-at-home plans... oh rats... He untactfully said 'But what have I got to look forward to then?' His poor hostess was sitting next to him in the car. I imagine she would like to wring his neck.