I don’t know about you, but the weather with us over Christmas was just awful…the idea of getting from London to Devon for Christmas Day was starting to seem like a distant dream…however my Dad refused to let the closed flood ridden roads beat us and 5 hours later, in the early hours, we were home.
We usually go to a local farm to choose our Christmas tree and, after spending ages arguing over which one needs a home, the farmer comes and cuts it down for us. This year the job had been left to my Dad as we’d all been tied up in London…I reckon he did a pretty good job!
Both Jamie and I spent Christmas with our respective families this year because of our busy schedules. We are quite traditional in the way we do things in my family. My sister still gets up at the crack of dawn and wakes me up to open our stockings….Father Christmas sometimes gets confused and mixes up the stockings so it’s always fun guessing whose is whose!
Herbie waiting patiently for Father Christmas!
Herbie got stuck in!
Most people in our village go to the Church service on Christmas morning. In true Beadel fashion we were running late…we are ALWAYS the last ones to scurry in and have to do the walk of the shame to sit in the choir pews as there are no seats left!
We have gone to the children’s service for as long as I can remember. Our vicar is amazing we call him Nick the Vic and I’ve always thought he’s the real Father Christmas…this year he confirmed my suspicions by whipping off his robes at the end of the service to reveal his Father Christmas outfit! – he is definitely an actor at heart. He even built a hovercraft that he tested out on the playing fields!
After Church we head to our friends house for Champagne and nibbles with lots of our neighbours. This is a lovely tradition and a wonderful opportunity for catch ups. There have been weddings, babies, amazing jobs over the years so it’s so nice to see what everyone’s up to!
Back at our house and as always everyone ends up in the music room!
My amazing hat from my sister which Jamie lovingly refers to as ‘the dead animal’.
My new toy!
Typically I missed capturing the meal as we all tucked in so quickly but I did manage to get a pic of this little one!