Saturday 26 December
Boxing Day
Boxing day still carries loads of theories as to why it is named as it is. The the most popular is that it was the day after Christmas when boxes of money were collected for the poor. For us it means leftovers (in Tupperware boxes) from the day before.
We had a good walk today, just locally but a totally different route, into the village. Then over the railway crossing and back over the fields to home. Just in time for a feast of football and feet up.
I feel a whole lot better today. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, just the four of us and the dog and the cats. Storm Bella is closing in as I sit here, I can hear the wind swirling around outside. The fire has been lit, the cheese is out and there’s a lovely glass of red wine next to me.
Tomorrow doesn’t have an historic name to it, it’s just the 27th December but I am hoping it will be much like today. I feel that filling my day with nothing is a wholesome pastime. It’s self-preservation ultimately, time to be a little selfish.
Oh, and my word, did I get some lovely books yesterday for Christmas. Lots of ghost stories and recollections of times past and memories recalled. These themselves are ghosts, I have realised.
The Bald Birder 