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This morning I hand delivered some local cards.
We then drove to New Milton for some very last minute Christmas shopping, and on to Keyhaven
for a look at the harbour where sleek swans and male and female mallards foraged in the silt alongside each other, dripping water as they came up for air;
gulls perched on railings;
and speckled sandpipers trotted about.
On the Hurst spit could be seen silhouetted figures such as the dog hurtling past its owner to cock a leg against a post. Presumably unaware of the urination, Santa rested his bike against the pillar, and another dog game scampering by for a frolic with the first. Fulfilling his social duty, the dog’s owner toted a filled poo bag.
Mathew, Becky, and Ian, with Scooby, arrived for the Christmas holiday at intervals during the afternoon. Tess and Poppy are to follow on later. Jackie fed us on a delicious cottage pie with crisp carrots and cabbage. I drank Doom Bar, and I’m not bothered about what the others chose.
We hope that, tonight, Santa will find his way to the house. So we left some guiding lights on.