Mardi 26.12.06 La Vie est belle
The lads are up early but us mademoiselles are lazying-in. You’d think the guys know their way around the kitchen by now but it ain’t so. Nic and I make them some tea… Why does it take two people to make tea you may ask? Well, it’s special tea. It has a certain kick to it. Nothing to do with Bois Bandé I swear. Thank goodness Boxing Day will be long over by the time the lads read this…
One thing I read today is a Christmas card from Heather. I text her to thank her and to say it arrived: better late than never. Her card to Nic never came and Nicola’s mother’s first Christmas card didn’t make it either. My collection of Christmas cards and my lot of letters don’t seem to have hit home either. It’s a real pain considering I spent so long writing them and I posted them ages ago. I can only hope they got stalled in the An Post backlog, when they reached Ireland, and will become dislodged once things get back to normal in the New Year. The word normal and An Post do not usually feature in the same sentence; isn’t it funny that Stop is an anagram of Post?
We drive into town to drop David home. It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of the holidays with us in the hills; in fact he’s off on his Christmas holidays to Cuba. He’s getting the boat to Dominica tonight, staying there for a day, then flying on to Puerto Rica for a three days and following on to the Dominican Republic before finally hitting Cuba, the cigars and the Buena Vista Social Club.
Chris is dropped back at the barracks and then its home to lounge around eating cold turkey sandwiches and smoked salmon slivers. It’s just a day for sitting by the TV scoffing chocolates and drinking Coca Cola. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone and Far&Away are on the box so that keeps me entertained all evening. Nic decides to meet up with Christophe in town that night. I leave the lovebirds to it and stay in with my essential seasonal viewing and the remaining Lindt collection before nodding off to dream very sweet dreams.
The lads are up early but us mademoiselles are lazying-in. You’d think the guys know their way around the kitchen by now but it ain’t so. Nic and I make them some tea… Why does it take two people to make tea you may ask? Well, it’s special tea. It has a certain kick to it. Nothing to do with Bois Bandé I swear. Thank goodness Boxing Day will be long over by the time the lads read this…
One thing I read today is a Christmas card from Heather. I text her to thank her and to say it arrived: better late than never. Her card to Nic never came and Nicola’s mother’s first Christmas card didn’t make it either. My collection of Christmas cards and my lot of letters don’t seem to have hit home either. It’s a real pain considering I spent so long writing them and I posted them ages ago. I can only hope they got stalled in the An Post backlog, when they reached Ireland, and will become dislodged once things get back to normal in the New Year. The word normal and An Post do not usually feature in the same sentence; isn’t it funny that Stop is an anagram of Post?
We drive into town to drop David home. It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of the holidays with us in the hills; in fact he’s off on his Christmas holidays to Cuba. He’s getting the boat to Dominica tonight, staying there for a day, then flying on to Puerto Rica for a three days and following on to the Dominican Republic before finally hitting Cuba, the cigars and the Buena Vista Social Club.
Chris is dropped back at the barracks and then its home to lounge around eating cold turkey sandwiches and smoked salmon slivers. It’s just a day for sitting by the TV scoffing chocolates and drinking Coca Cola. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone and Far&Away are on the box so that keeps me entertained all evening. Nic decides to meet up with Christophe in town that night. I leave the lovebirds to it and stay in with my essential seasonal viewing and the remaining Lindt collection before nodding off to dream very sweet dreams.
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