Tuesday 20th December 2017

The final working day of the year.

It seems these last three months have lasted forever, and the list of tasks needed to be completed before the end of the year seems endless, but we have made it. I need to make some calls, send documents out, and coordinate a bit, but with a good wind, we should make it to three in the afternoon, and that glass of wine I was promising myself all week as a reward for getting it all done.

Jools is up and about before Scully and I, but as ever it is the smell of brewing coffee that brings me round, and I am up and about and down as the cup is filled and ready to drink.

There is a few slices of nearly stale bread for dinner, I see. So once Jools is dressed and left for work, I get the mixing bowl, and I rustle up a batch of spicy seeded white dough, leaving to to prove for three hours before making into rolls and leaving to final rise and cooked ready for lunch at half eleven. Almost as though I know what I'm doing.

I make calls, confirm details of work I need to do. And unlike most years, the work is all good, and so instead of working against the clock, I am all done, and doing the final bits of admin for the year as the rolls cook for lunch.

It would be easy to have them with butter, jam and crisps, but fresh bread, with chili seeds, poppy seeds, all that needs is fresh butter applied thickly so it melts. And a fresh brew. And you know, that is all you need; fresh bread, melted butter and a pint of fresh tea.

Time for one last meeting, no outstanding actions: I call a few friends to wish them Merry Christmas, and I am done. I power the laptop down, pack it all away, including the power lead away, and I am done for the year. How great is that?

I don't pour myself a wine nor a beer. I am happy enough to sit on the sofa with Scully and watch another episode of Time Team. I had seen it before, but still watch, as it feels my brain needs no more stimulation.

The year is over, I can just think about nothing for the rest of the year, very nearly two weeks.

For dinner I make shoarma and fried jacket spuds. I had defrosted the lamb, then coated them with the shoarma spices and waited. The jackets are zapped in the microwave, then sliced and fried once Jools is home, the lamb pan fried in a little oil, then smothered in a shoarma sauce to be really shoarma. The fried potatoes are dipped in garlic mayo, and all in all, dinner is a triumph, even if the cook says so.

In the evening, we listen to the new copy of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, which arrived that day, whilst I keep track of the Bristol City v Man Utd game on the BBC website. Bristol score deep into injury time to snatch the game and cause an upset.

And that is the end of the day, and working year. Time to reflect on the latter another day, but for now, bed and think about nothing.