Silent Night

Christmas Day. Lovely sunny afternoon, so we load up the car with uncooked turkey, assorted vegs, three folding chairs, a swiss cheese plant, and various other essentials, and drive fifty miles down to our boat mooring. No 2 son has kindly agreed to his place being used as the venue for Christmas, but he is lacking in some of life's necessities, like enough furniture on which to entertain guests. The sun is bright, the air clear and crisp, as we drive along past strolling families who have had their turkey and are walking it off. It is just getting dark as we arrive.

Although where we live out in the country the nights are often very quiet, and you can walk home down the centre of the main street at 10.30pm and not meet any traffic, when we reach the city where our boat is moored, we are amazed at the silence that blankets the whole place. Christmas night must be one of the few silent nights now left in our towns and cities and indeed many parts of the UK. No traffic, no cars or buses, and few people; no pubs, restaurants, shops are open, so no reason to go out.

Time at last to bring out the box of Christmas cards - none opened yet. Tomorrow is lunch with the sons and lady friends. Tonight is rest.