Christmas was lovely and lavish, with sunshine spilling in the richly decorated windows, the girls squealing over presents, vintage pink champagne, cocktail dresses, and the ubiquitous english countryside staples: wellies, an Aga, and trips out to the garden to hunt for rosemary. Andwell is a proper old mill house, nicely redone, and perfect for a big family holiday. It was eight of us in the end: Myself, Jen, her boyfriend Mazin, his sister and her family, and Brian turned up at about 9pm. There were cases of wine and an organic turkey, litres of gravy, too many mince pies, and more stuffing than anyone would dare shake a stick at. (for fear of angering the stuffing monster?) Maz can certainly do Christmas right. Why on EARTH do we only eat Brandy Butter once a year, anyways? Under my reign, it will be available to put on toast every single morning. I might even make it mandatory.

I'm very full, and very happy than Jen gave us a juicer to kick off the annual january health kick. Which will be somewhat marred by my plans: Jen and I booked a trip to Thailand leaving New Year's Day, then I'll be back for 5 days then back off to South Africa. Travel and spinach juice don't really mix.