And I thought I wouldn't see a snowman this year

OMGYOUGUYS. It's Pre-Christmas-Christmas, the time every year when Al and I celebrate the holiday, just the two of us. It's a day for a big, slow meal, a roaring fire, blankets and books and our exchanging of gifts. We do this every year since the Day itself we're always in Scotland surrounded by family and it would feel strange to pack our bags with presents for each other, just to bring them all back home again. No, it turns out one can have many Christmases, and this little tradition feels as special as the loving fullness of the 25th itself, with the children and the chatter and the lovely food in the midst of the rustic beauty of the Scottish borders.

We went for a Christmas brunch this morning, and it led us through Liverpool Street Station, which is terrific on a Sunday when it's quiet and empty.

I had the Merry Berry Benedict at Polo Bar, with stuffing and chilli cranberry sauce, which was good, if not special. The stuffing was a nice addition but I was more pleased with the fact that the eggs were perfectly poached, which is always a risk at a place like this, a 24-hour diner in a commercial district.

Now it's time for a bath before we light the fire and start the roast. I got this hilarious bath bomb for Christmas and look forward to seeing how long he'll last before succumbing to a fragrant, bubbly death:

Look at the sadness in his eyes. This is the best.

Much love to you all, and I hope you're having a wonderful Sunday,

Essss