This is the second year that we spent Christmas with Daughter. It has become our new tradition. Daughter found a lovely pub-cum-restaurant where we lounged near a huge log fire and unashamedly allowed others to wait upon us.
Since I last mentioned Daughter on this blog, she has fallen in love with ferrets. She is a weekend volunteer at her local RSPCA and this was how she first met - and lost her heart to - these long furry animals. I didn't realise how tame and loving ferrets could be. It would seem that I am now their grandma and so, as is the way with all good grandmas, I am in love with them... almost.
Between you, me and the blog post, I have to admit that I do prefer cats. My two girls, Mabel and Charlie, are getting on in years now and are both on different doses of medication. This would make going away impossible if it wasn't for my amazing friend/neighbour who even crept round early on Christmas morning to give them food, meds and love before her family woke up.
Of course, there were other holiday events; trips to visit family, family staying over on New Years Eve, a visit with the grandkids to the local pantomime, Peter Pan - oh yes we did - but somehow I keep thinking of those ferrets, of their hammocks to sleep in, their toys to play with and tubes to run through. They've certainly landed on their paws at my Daughter's place and they're not cheap to run. They eat fresh meat every day, need constant care and attention and I'm guessing that all those ferret toys cost a pretty penny and some, but then I think about the amount of love that they have to offer - and that is priceless.