Once more and once less. It’s over, folks. The day of the year most eagerly anticipated by the bucolic majority, deplored by the misanthropic minority, and ignored by the tiny but resolute band of antiChristmasians.
Here in the burrow we carried on as normal, with just a touch or two of festive fare. No-one ate or drank too much, but we all had plenty. We are not pissed off.