Bodies, rest and motion

There is a hard stop in Britain at 5pm on a Sunday. Shops close and people scatter. After three days on the go I was thankful for early closing and to be heading back to Mum's to veg out (and by veg out I mean dress the tree and wrap pressies).

We left our flat at 4am on Friday morning and haven't stopped since then. I was scepital about the fog at Heathrow but it was the real pea souper. We were stuck in the air circling and then once we landed on the ground (for over an hour) waiting for a gate to open, we didn't get to Mum's till midnight. The next day we had lunch in Canary's Wharf with girls I used to work with in London, and it took three modes to transport to get there (bus, train and Docklands Light Railway). In the evening we went for dinner in town with Mum and my brother (only two modes of transport - car and tube). Then today we headed back into town for afternoon 'Carols by Candlelight' (they blacked out the windows) at the Albert Hall with my father and the pseduo step-mother. It was fun and we got to sing along... I was enjoying myself so much that I sang off key all three parts of Good King Wealsalas: normal voice for the narration, way down low for the King and all squeaky for the page. Aggressively Christmassy I tell you.

Now, we have no where to go till Boxing Day and tomorrow the most engeric thing we have to do is tear wrapping paper of presents and bicker over the remote control.