After a late-ish start in which I got to read more of my romance novel (huzzah!), we went off for a walk. As it’s Christmas (PS: Merry Christmas!), the tube and most shops were all closed. We walked around for hours. My chin went numb. Eventually we stumbled across a pub that was actually open and went in for some beers and defrosting. (I actually had a cider.) My first English pub! It was fabulous. The few other guests there were kind, and they had a pub cat. Seriously. A cat living in the pub. His name is Henry, and he is 14 years old.
Christmas is a time for taking it easy, apparently. And then eating some super delicious roasted ham. Mmmmmmm….