Day 85 Week 12

Christmas over without any untoward news from the front line and just want that to continue until the whole business is over. Is that too much to ask for?

Well H and I arrived at my cousin's gorgeous home in the grounds of one of England's most breath taking stately homes, and we greeted each other in the way you do when you haven't seen someone you love for too long and then we sat down to eat lunch at about one thirty. It was as if time had flashed backwards, for my cousin is the most fabulous cook, and we feasted with her and her family at the huge but welcoming table on cold turkey, cold pork, goose, sausage, venison stuffing, salads, home made pate, the best coleslaw I've ever eaten, hot jacket potatoes, home made pickles and chutneys all accompanied by unending glass filling and catching-up on time apart. It was like a Tudor banquet. Then the cheese came out and the rumour has it I consumed a whole wheel of Stilton, which is a definitely stretching the point.

C and R were missed.

Then after lunch finished at - seven o'clock - we all tumbled into the fourwheel drive to lurch off-road across the fields to the local pub. It was like being on the set of the Archers. Roaring fires, loads of regulars with tales to tell - including discovering the wife of one came from my home village in Nottinghamshire - and more alcohol. Low beams strewn with holly and the delicious smell of wood smoke wafting through the air. Leaving the pub with much cheering and hugging with new found buddies and then we re-bounced back over more rustic terrain to the house for yet more gastronomic merrymaking consisting of Italian red wine risotto followed by home made ice cream, with of course more quaffing of red wine.

Absolutely fabulous.

H and his contemporary cousin then repeated the pilgrimage to the pub and vaguely remember going to bed at about midnight. Goodness it was fun - but as ever tainted by the thought that personal enjoyment came at a time when progeny suffering great hardship.

This morning arrived with the sound of a very large bull mounting a cow outside my bedroom window (lots of grunting and slipping around), before back to the convivial table no one ever wants to leave for a fabulous breakfast, followed by a walk around some of the most spectacular Capability Brown grounds in the country. Disturbing pheasants in the woods, reading the inscriptions on the many extraordinarily exquisite follies and watching the swans splash on the frozen lake with the winter air crisp and fresh. Sad farewells then home.

Think I could be two stone heavier than yesterday.

And now H, R and I off up to London to see my brother and his gorgeous young family.

Lots of toasting absent friends and prayers for their safety.

Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x