No worries - in for a penny, in for pound. Wine, beers and juices were chilled in a snow-filled bin outside, meats were roasted, canapés assembled and warm mince pies amassed. Bring it on.
We missed those who could not join us and enjoyed the company of those who did. A huge thank you to John who scraped our lane clear of snow - making the last ½ mile a safer journey.
I love the idea - and I'm not going to be particularly articulate here - of the Christmas story being schlepped round the neighbourhood: I'm thinking Thomas Hardy and his Wessex tales, of mummers and of traditions which come from before-we-know-when; of reasons lost in the mists of time for going door to door to bring news in the depth of winter. All this out of darkness under twinkling lights and boughs of evergreens - we know not why. I have my mistletoe, that most curious of plants, hung on a beam.
I only really wanted to say - 'Thanks for carolling'. You made my day.