It is eight days to my favourite day of the year, the day after Christmas. It is my favourite because it is the longest time until Christmas the next. I got all my shopping done, most parcels delivered, one returned because I omitted to put the house number and it is off again too. I was putting some bits and pieces in a wardrobe today and noticed a box, I pulled it out and there were a number of presents I had bought for various family members that had been forgotten about! Old Timer's syndrome strikes again. Mind you, I bought them in summer time. Months ago!
We are off to Norfolk on Monday and have a schedule of animal and house sitters arranged. No more the days when we threw some clothes in a bag, a mattress in the back of the van and just took off. I miss those days. Still, it will be good to see Baby James and his people again.
I saw some pictures in the news today of the Queen and Prince Philip alighting a train at King's Lynn station. The very same tatty old station that I came through when I was travelling to Katy's. She'll only be a few miles away. I wonder if I'll bump into her?
Apparently the Queen features in more British and Irish dreams than any other human being. I've dreamed about her a few times myself, no later than last night. I bumped into her on a tour of one of her houses. She and one of her ladies-in-waiting were polishing some banisters. They were both posh old birds but really friendly and chatty and it turned out the Queen knew everyone I knew and was asking about everyone. It was a really pleasant dream.
I told Bert about it and he said, "Of course she'd know all about you. Aren't you her subject?" That rankled a bit. He said he's never once dreamed about the Queen his entire life. Not very loyal of him, is it?