Christmas.

Christmas was quite good, actually. I had fun singing - my voice has been enjoying a break and so was really rather nicely responsive when I came to use it for high descants. Unfortunately, this didn't last for long, because the 6 hour drive down in the car with my dad, who had a streaming cold, meant that I ended up snuffly. I made it just about to Christmas lunchtime though, by which point the singing was over, so I guess it could have been worse. Me and the brothers took the dogs to the beach at Perranporth. I tried to take some pictures of the Christmas tree someone had put up on the rock that's in the middle of the sand, but they didn't really come out. And then Kiri fell in the swimming pool. It had muck in the corner, and she thought it was solid and tried to walk on it. She felt a bit silly.

We had beef for Christmas lunch, from the farm up the road. Properly fed, properly looked after, properly killed, proper beef. It was absolutely lovely. It's not often I rhapsodise about meat on here, for the sensibilities of the orthodox vegetarians who drop by, but this was really lovely. It's ok. I'm stopping there. Presents was good too. I had a watch from my parents, which I must go and get shortened, probably on Friday, and a proper ice blender for making smoothies and crushed ice, among other things. My brothers bought me rat things and a plant. My parents seemed to approve of the things we got them, and even my brothers seemed reasonably pleased with the things I'd got them, which I hadn't been sure about. Ooo and I had glasses made from half wine bottles in my stocking. Really nice.

I enjoyed being in Cornwall this time. Kiri was really upset when I left. She hates watching you pack the car and goes all sad and pathetic. I actually found myself wanting to be able to stay a bit longer. I headed up country on Boxing Day though, with Rocky in tow. He was much admired at the dinner party Christian had that night, and then came up to Derbyshire with us the following day. We had a tiny little cottage that looked like it had once been a stable, right on the edge of Bakewell - it was lovely. Sadly, the weather was less so when we tried to go for a walk the next day. We managed about half of what we'd been intending to do, but we and the dog were so cold and bedraggled that we gave up and went home for curry.

Christian decided he was brave, or foolhardy, enough to join in my mum's family's Christmas in Coventry. Not really sure what he made of it, or how much gossip we've now created among my somewhat peculiar family, but it could have gone worse. Rocky, however, loved it. LOTS of people to play with, yet another new house to explore, AND a big game of football to impede. Auntie Helen kept up her usual tradition - she gave me what I believe is called a 'snood'. In the last three or so years she has given me a pair of gloves, 2 scarves and a hat, as well as the 'snood', which is a cross between hat and scarf... All very nice, but I do find it rather funny. Could have been worse, I suppose.

Then we brought my brother Ed back, so he could meet the rats. He liked them. Then I finished moving house. I'm now back in Cambridge, in a room that at least feels homely. And somewhat full of stuff.