Boxed

The rain it raineth every day.... I'm beginning to think a certain sister has a point about Wellington weather. This is Boxing Day, dammit! It's supposed to be the day where Wellingtonians crowd out Days Bay and Eastbourne, lounge around in the sun, and build mega-sandcastles (usually still too cold for swimming, unless you've got a wetsuit). But it rains. In fact, it's raining pitchforks points down. And there's a southerly and it's cold enough to be wearing jeans and a polarfleece. Dammit.

Against our usual habit of avoiding all shopping locations like the plague after Christmas, we briefly braved the Boxing Day sales (because the beach was denied us, mostly!) to get some new glass tumblers, the last of ours having tumbled into the traditional thousand pieces on the floor. We've had a bit of a smashing time with glasses lately: one exploded in the dishwasher a couple of weeks ago, another one got a whopping big chip out of it, and then this latest dropped yesterday.

We amused the small daughter by playing trains all afternoon (after trying and failing to convince her to have a sleep.....) and now - well, brandy baskets with cream and raspberries, maybe a glass of that nice riesling we've got hanging around.... who knows?

Pachyderm