Sylvester is dribbling cream over my mince pies.

What a lovely time of year it is. I’ve been trying to think of the perfect present for Sylvester. Being a mechanic, and also a lover of dogs, it had crossed my mind that an adjustable spaniel might be just the thing, but I never give pets for Christmas.

As friends gather an feast their eyes on my mince pies, as I whip them out of the oven, and Sylvester dribbles cream over Amanda’s pudding, I can only conclude that I do love this time of year. I’ve just come back from Auntie Kittie’s up the road. She’s been entertaining a few of the neighbours in Huckleberry Close, and of course her lovely nephews and nieces. The young ones are all fascinated by her record player and her record collection.

“But Auntie, it’s all hardware! Where’s the app?” asked Gerald.

It’s interesting watching them try to figure it out. To them, of course, it all seems archaic.

None the less, we all enjoy it when Auntie gets out her voluminous greatest hits and lets us play them. The music of the seventies and eighties is making such a come back.

We were playing Scrabble this afternoon, and when Gerald lay down W E T H E R…