Christmas cake day

A frosty Hundon sunrise

To avoid waking Ann, I usually take my clothes into my office to dress. This morning I carried them in as usual, and brought in my dirty laundry from the day before, which I threw down the stairs ready to carry to the washing machine. I started to dress, then realised I'd thrown the clean clothes downstairs. But to compensate, I woke to a brilliant frosty morning to drink my morning tea as I prepared to go online for my first calls.

Our 'new' neighbours have been there for five years, and yesterday we finally had our long-promised coffee morning with them. The last proposed visit had been cancelled because their dog had to go to the vet; this morning, it still had a bare patch on its tail. It looks as though it has been attacked by a fox, or a very fierce cat. Their house is the old vicarage, and the last time I saw it was when I had to break in through the front door with the police because the vicar had had a stroke and lay collapsed on the floor. 

Edwin and Andre should have visited yesterday evening to tell us their tales of America, but unfortunately they had still not got their PCR test results back, and were confined in quarantine, now five days after they landed at Heathrow. They finally got the all-clear this morning, so may be coming this evening. 

Ann has baked all the Christmas cakes, and it is my job to marzipan and ice them. Her cakes are very popular, filled as they are with sweet, dried fruits and warming brandy, and so rich they easily last all year. She used to bake six, but the numbers have gradually reduced so I had only four to cover this year. Now they have their ribbons round and are ready to be decorated and handed out. It is Sam's birthday today, so we can give MA theirs when they come round and Edwin his tonight. We only do a small one for ourselves, but it still takes the full year to get through it.