Tuesday 29th December 2020

2020 hangs around, unwanted and unloved, stinking like an old pair of trainers left to fester under a teenager's bed.

It has been a dreadful year, all things considered, 1,790,000 people have died around the world from COVID, 71,556 in the UK alone.

It can't get any worse, you would think, but I fear it will. I hate to mention all this, but it shows what the situation really is, and that is before the Christmas relaxation spike shows itself.

And then there is Brexit. Not as bad as it could be, but happening at the same time as COVID. Well.

Let's move on.

I wrote once about how we would pine for the strong and stable days of Theresa may's Government, and I think I have been proven right.

So, enjoy the final three days of this year, and next year, the first quarter or so will be grim beyond imagination.

What can I tell you about Tuesday? Well, it was just 24 hours ago, and I have no memory of what we did, what happened. Or anything.

I wrote the end of the year blog, to be published on the 31st, listened to a pod cast, listened to the radio some, watched som train videos and watched the evening's football unfold via the medium of Twitter and the BBC Sport website.

Intween that and getting up, we had breakfast, lunch and dinner. Drank a lot of coffee and tea. Finished the first Christmas cake. Outside it was cold and grey. Jools did some work in the garden, but was driven in by lunch as being too cold.

I filled the feeders agaon so spent the afternoon on and off watching that. We had our first pair of Coal Tits feeding, small and flighty, they were seen at the same time as the single Wren. Otherwise it was the usual suspects.

We have a stack of food to get through, so I make a fresh batch of sausage rolls for lunch, which we should let cool before eating, but they smelt glorious, and looked even better, so I make a brew and we burn our lips and toungues on them as we eat all bar two of them up. We eat the other two mid-afternoon when they we cold, and even better than whem they were warm.

Growing up, the ritual of cold cuts and chips were lost on me. As was pickles. The chips I could take, and did. But left the rest. But last night we feated on cold turky and stuffing with salt beef, pickled onions and gherkins. And a tripel.

Lovely.

The day had faded, and either rain, hail or sleet was falling hard outside in the dark. I open the door to see what it was, but was too cold to have the door open, and was happy to say it was "wet".

In the afternoon we went to see Jen, drop her presents round. The calendar we had forgotten to give her at Christmas, I mean she was only here two days. And then the knife set we bought online arrived at lunctime. We helped Jen do a jigsaw, or did enough for it to become clear several pieces were missing, si it got put in the bin as we left.

And that was it.

Another day of Twixmas, all over. Just two days to go and it'll be the New Year.

Norwich played in the evening, and drew 1-1- with QPR. 1 penalty each.

We're still top.

So it goes.