Well, by day 2 of my Christmas journal it had all gone spectacularly tits up.

Wednesday night was the annual carol service for the Beavers. (the cub scout sort not the long-toothed river dwelling sort, nor the ladies rude part sort either) I couldn't go due to work, so the task fell to Mark who rose to the occasion with his customary wails of horror and heavy sighs. He didn't get any photos - string of lame excuses if you ask me - and then managed to lose the programme on the way back to the car, so I have NO evidence of this event to record for day 2. For fucks sake is what springs to mind.

At least on Weds morning at the home ed group Oliver made Christingles, which I think are rather charming, now I know what they symbolise. Last year I thought they were a pointless waste of time and effort. Christ, I can be such a heathen.

THEN, on Weds evening just before I went to work, my eye, which had been a bit sore, suddenly became really sore and developed into my second corneal abrasion of the year. I managed to finish my shift, and yesterday was spent at A&E/in bed doped up on painkillers. Lovely. Today, as per the norm, it is loads less painful, but still a bit fragile and swollen.

Soooo, onwards and upwards my festive friends - today is Mark's birthday, so I will be cooking a nice meal for him later. I use the term 'nice' loosely here, as anything could happen in the kitchen between now and then. Hopefully it will be 'nice' enough to photograph for day 4...