'Twas the day after Boxing Day...

... and my daughters are at their father's for a couple of days. I drove them over there earlier today, thinking that I would quite enjoy the peace and quiet, and had every intention of hitting the post-Christmas mess that is my house like a reverse tornado. However, the house is far too quiet and all I've succeeded in doing is falling asleep. My half-hour doze somehow morphed into a three-hour time-warp of a sleep, from which I woke rather Rip-Van-Winkled to the dark and a further covering of snow.

I think I'll take the hint and put the housework on hold until tomorrow. There are a couple of films I fancy watching, a fridge full of tasty leftovers, and a cupboard full of nice bottles of wine. It would of course be nice if friends unexpectedly rang the doorbell later and joined me, but after the hectic couple of days we've just had, a quiet evening in front of the Quiet American will be just fine.

Christmas has been lovely. It wasn't the Christmas I would have planned for: apart from anything else we haven't seen my mother due to my sister's game-playing. I've just gone with the flow, not thought about it and so it hasn't spoilt it. We'll have her over here another time. And I haven't let thoughts about Mr F-M interrupt either. He unexpectedly made contact about a week ago, asking me to make an 130-mile round trip to see him, and when I wouldn't he turned up at my door instead. The saga continues.

Yes, I need a good film or two to occupy me tonight.