A lovely Christmas with my children and their mother and partners and grandchildren. A nice walk above the Frome to the pub for lunch at Freshford. Sunny and windy, then it started to rain as we sat down to lunch. Sarah, Joe's friend, went off miserable and sorry for self looking for drugs and a doctor and thinking she might drive home to mum, but ended up staying in some wretched hotel on her own with no telly. Two days surrounded by bottles of whisky and wine and beer, but no-one was getting legless and apart from the occasional semi-automatic twitch towards a glass or bottle, I stayed sober and happy and I'm now snugged up in bed in the shed with the rain and wind swirling around me and snow to come apparently. And Joe and Felicity tell me how proud they are of me, and I tell them I'm proud of myself, which is true but seems slightly ridiculous, especially with Sukie coping with her MS and loving being with her grandchildren. Shame Aden and Lottie couldn't be with us - they're on a beach in Cambodia in the rain waiting for his birthday typhoon to hit.
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