Saturday 2nd January 2016

Friday

New Years Day

All is quiet on New Year's Day

After the fairly late night previously, I mean it was after one, we did sleep in until nearly eight. I suppose this is where the realisation dawned that the holidays are coming to an end, and that work is looming on the horizon, and I find myself thinking of mails I need to write first thing Monday morning trying to solve issues I know are there. Anyway, time to feed the cats and make coffee then check the news and stuff on the interwebs.

I do realise that we are actually out of milk, so being hangover free, I go out in the car to look for a shop open at eight in the morning; and find that the garage at the Duke of Yorks is open and has shelves rammed with milk. Expensive but still there, I buy two bottles and return home for breakfast.

And we decided we would try to watch the remaining episodes of The Bridge, interspersed with coffee, cold sausage rolls and Christmas Cake.

The murders in Sweden and Norway are solved, loose ends tied up and ends after ten installments. At eleven we sat down to watch/listen to the New Year's Concert from Vienna, although it meant nothing to me, however, Bob our neighbour came round for a chat, and so we had tea and cake as we chatted about history and the challenges facing Dover in regenerating itself, and whether the demolition will result in things getting better. Turned out we're not convinced.

Apart from the milk run, we don't venture outside all day, we are never far from the sofa, and the cats either, as they make sure when we might go in the kitchen where one of us might just feed them an extra meal.

Evening comes, we watch Wreck it Ralf on TV, then I make chorizo hash, our first meal for a few days other than feasting on sausage rolls or cake. The New Year's Day Concert is on TV again, we have it on in the background, but are on the sofa again when the Blue Danube begins, its soaring strings lifting the heart and spirits.

And finally, the latest episode of Sherlock is on, and after a promising start, descends into a mess, but is quite enjoyable. Twitter seems to hate it, so we go to bed with just the weekend left before its back to the grindstone.