Nativity Natterings

A sound like a knock caused me to wake this morning. "Who can be at the door at this hour?" I thought sleepily as I swung my legs out of bed. As my bare feet touched the chilly hardwood of my bedroom floor, the remnants of sleep dissipated and I glanced at the clock - a quarter to seven. I heard Madonna singing "Hung up" from the bathroom as my roommate showered. I quickly went to the door, opened it to the grey, rainy day and saw no one.

As I shut the door and headed for the kitchen to set the kettle on the stove for a cup of Assam, the shower ceased and moments later, George popped out of the bathroom like the Demon King in a pantomime and bade me a cheery view-hallo and happy birthday.

It's odd. I don't feel any different than I did last night when I tottered off to bed. I'd like to say I don't feel a day over eighteen, but unfortunately, I've more grey hair and a few creaks and aches that I didn't then.

Tonight, I'm off to barge round with a few friends and have cocktails. It should be a scream. I look forward to it. I'll write more later.