Got news of the funeral next Friday of a work colleague. Cancer. Bit of a family row at the son’s partner’s parents’ house yesterday. Seasonal maybe. This week was my brother Bob’s 69th birthday. The coal bunker is full now and 10 bags of logs are in the shed, sorry workshop. Today our good neighbours Helen, Mark, Emma and James fetched our Christmas tree from a nearby farm. It is now in the bay window with lights and red and gold decorations. They bought us a present of a big stick of brussel sprouts too. Other traditional things starting up, with a coal / log fire and a space waiting for presents underneath the tree. We went to James’ infant school’s Christmas performance of The Donkey Seller yesterday – he was the innkeeper who didn’t think much of babies and their smelly nappies but found some room in his stable. Small parcels have been arriving from family members’ online shopping. This house seems to be acting as Santa’s Grotto. Tomorrow we are going to hear and sing carols at the John Rylands University Library in Deansgate, Manchester. I never got religion but rituals, pagan or otherwise, based on these sorts of activities are fine and I don’t need reminding at any stage what “the true meaning of Christmas is”. The book with a chapter by Beth in it arrived today too; very heavy. Our postal service is excellent.