How to spend Christmas day

Eating. Later in the afternoon than usual. Allow time for a walk of around 30 to 40 minutes in order to ease post-dinner conscience. Open presents and remember to smile lots because some (a lot) people are far less fortunate. And pick up some sale bargains online, including that nice blue shirt which looks an awful lot like my other blue shirts. But that's the point in being a consumer: we are supposed to buy things that we don't really need; otherwise we'd be animalistic, taking only what we need when we need it. Here is the thing that I (now) own with the biggest differential ratio of size and expense to actual need:

Helsinki has been remarkably warm this year. But England is even warmer. While being the antipathy of "real" Christmas, it certainly made for a lovely walk. Here is a rather nice church, located in the grounds of the manor near where my parents live.

The church has a sad story attached to it. The son of the family who owned the manor was kidnapped in Turkey and held to ransom. By the time the family had got the money together it was too late. So, in memory of his life, they built this church, which stands apart from the rest of the village and has never really been a working church. But it's very ornate, and it's set among some incredibly majestic trees, such as the one below (which happens to look like a person).

Merry Christmas Finland, hello England

It was a choice between 17.15 on Friday (and possibly missing glögi and gingerbread, courtesy of my benevolent workplace) and 7.40 on Saturday (and possibly missing my alarm clock and then the plane). I chose 7.40, had more than my share of glögi, gingerbread and (interestingly) green cheese, and more than managed to wake up in time for my flight on Saturday. My ability to wake up owes no small debt to my parental wake-up call (benevolent, just like my workplace) which negated the need for my army of alarm clocks (four in total). Shortly after arriving in London, and making one or two choice Christmas sale purchases pour petit moi, I met Madeleine and we had a fantastic and super premium meal at the Gilbert Scott in St. Prancas. I considered taking one or two photographs of the wonderfully-restored Victorian architecture that engirdled us while we ate our three-course dinner. But then somewhere in my sub-conscious I am still hoping to become a successful – and very rich – lawyer and taking such photographs would certainly not be consonant with this future me. The real beauty was when I arrived home and saw the tree that my mother had decorated.