The turkey is brining, the stuffing is made, the rolls are doing their first rise. Today’s best Christmas present so far was the boy waking us up at seven instead of some ungodly hour as is his usual wont. The downside of this is that he’d thrown up in his bed at some point during the night and hadn’t told us. Ah, well. Both HRH and I had collywobbly tummies last night, so it only makes sense that the boy did too. Everyone is in much better health today. It must have been something we ate yesterday.

The boy brought his stocking to our bed and said, “Thank you!” every time he pulled something new out of it, and “Ah, cool!” when he’d liberated whatever it was from the tissue paper in which it was wrapped. He then bounded into the living room and pouted only a bit when we told him we were waiting for both sets of grandparents to show up before we opened the sea of presents under the tree. Yes, Santa came last night! I thought he’d been sane and had cut down on the number of gifts he’d dropped off, until I remembered that the local grandparents hadn’t brought over their set of presents yet. Oh well. At least the boy’s the very appreciative type and sincerely thanks the gifter both before and after he’d unwrapped something.

As is traditional, Nigella is my co-pilot today. Her cooking times suggest that I cook the bird for about three hours, while Butterball tells me to do it for four. I trust Nigella more. Besides, I can always push dinner back by a half-hour if I need to roast it a wee bit longer.

It’s nine-thirty. I should probably change out of the t-shirt and jeans I’m wearing into something a bit more classy before the grandparents arrive at ten. Although my socks are red and my t-shirt is green!

I send you all love on this lovely sunny winter’s day, and I hope everyone’s Yule week has been and continues to be as blessed as ours is.