This is the flat side of Christmas. The Brother in Law and A have left for Scotland so it is back to ourselves. The wrapping paper is away with the recycling and my attempt to golf thjis banl holiday was frustrated by hundreds of hens scratching away all over the course, in their gleaming red Christmas anoraks, swarming like maggots on an open wound. Luna the guest dog repaid our hospitality by crapping profusely and liquidly in the early hours of the morning. Fortunately the B-i-L had dealt with the mess by the time I emerged but the smell of Dettol was overpowering but a bit better than the alternative. On balance I prefer mice.
