Into town for the morning croissants and our 'Bonjour Wilfee' routine at the cafe in the square. The locals at the bar dressed as though they were going to join Peary on an expedition to the arctic. The peroxide waitress wearing the ' Bon Noel' apron with the flashing lights over her duffle coat. The show must go on.
Home to hang the last decorations on the tree. Then half an hour of touch rugby, meerkat hunting , and rug surfing. Wilf charging along the full length of the hallway, his aches and pains forgotten in the thrill of surfing. He finally turned over and fell asleep in the middle of the floor. He's still there - snoring gently. Time enough to recharge his batteries before 'the font' returns. A good day. No - a very good day.