Some friends are holding a pagan festival of sorts, complete
with Pagan Wassail, to commemorate the start of the winter solstice.
We consider something similar but in the end the only ritual
I participate in, and as a mere observer, is as Derby County steamroller
another fellow championship club, this time Doncaster, as they record their
seventh straight win to go within sniffing distance of the top of the table.
L’s choice of ritual is even better, panto, in Yorkshire,
and featuring H from Steps.
She heads up to Sheffield on the train while I drive up later
to meet her afterwards, bringing Daughter and a sack full of presents back home at
the same time.
Back home and waiting for us is a little Christmas treat.
Before the match I’d headed off to find the Lincoln Green Brewery in Hucknall
and to pick up a boozy Christmas present. L had asked if I could pick her up a
bottle of the wonderful Tuck whilst I was there. Having found the place the
proprietor tells me they’re all out of bottled Tuck but they do have nine pint
polypins... and it is Christmas...
(Saturday 21st December)
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