Christmas eve

Jump forward a few weeks.


It is Christmas eve in the Cotswolds.
It snows.
I woke early and left our cottage.
I made my way through the snow to the main strip of shops.
The shops were closed.
I waited until the butcher's shop opened.
I bought the first local pheasant for the day.
The butcher told me how to cook it.
I waited until the New England Coffee shop opened.
I got a coffee.
I sit in the coffee shop waiting for my family to pick up my call on Skype.
It's ten to eight at night at home.
They must be sitting around the Christmas tree.
Eating, drinking, cooking, singing.
I miss them.

There is a real buzz in the air.
Children dance in the street.
I dance in the street.
It's my first white Christmas.
I am so lucky.
Lucky to have my friends and my family at home.
Lucky to be here.
There is nothing else I want for Christmas.
I have everything.


Below is a collection of photos of some of my special people at home (besides Elly, she's with me, she's the one drinking on her hostel bed).