Saint Stephen’s Day (Boxing Day, to our neighbours) was another wonderful and indulgent day, which felt even more relaxed than Christmas Day. However after a pitiful 79 steps of movement the day before I figured I really needed to get outside, get some air in my lungs and be a little be less slovenly. Even if just for an hour.
Years ago when my brother and I were about 12 and 10, we were surprised with a go-kart each long after Santa arrived. I’ll never forget the excitement; we couldn’t wait to race each other around the garden. These things are fast, loud and filthy, and I was told off a few times for taking chunks out of the grass testing their limits.
My go-kart sadly kicked the bucket a few years ago but my brother’s old Bocart got some TLC recently, so it was ready to roll. My sister and I made use of the sunshine and the dry weather, taking turns on the go-kart and chasing each other around like maniacs. Cookie, our other cat joined us, which was nice because she’s a bit of a diva so doesn’t like to feature here often.
After photographing some of my thawing garden, we washed up and got ready for round two of Christmas dinner. After full and happy bellies, vegetating and reading by the fire we paid Helen and Victor a visit. We traded gifts, answered quiz questions, sang our favourite Disney songs and I sniffed (and photographed) their real Christmas tree. Usual run of the mill stuff.
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