Boxing Day

I went to the Christmas morning service at St Mary's (Midnight Mass is way past my bedtime!), and it was lovely to see Curate Jimmy in his fluffy white halo. It was attatched to his collar, and wobbled every time he shook his head.

On the way back up town, I passed Jones' Hardware shop, and noticed their sign advertising Christmas closing times:
Christmas Day: Stuffing our faces
Boxing Day: We've all eaten too much
Sunday: Nursing the Hangover

This morning there was a good crowd as usual for the Boxing Day Hunt, who meet at the clock tower. I usually amble down to have a look, but this year Islay contented herself with barking at the hounds from the comfort of the windowsill, while I was listening to David Tennant and Catherine Tate on the radio. All the snow has melted, except on the very top of Hay Bluff, so they'll come back covered in mud this afternoon. (the Hunt, not David Tennant and Catherine Tate....)