It was a really still, quiet day today - more like New Year's Day than Christmas Eve. Funchal closes up shop at lunchtime, so there's none of that manic last-minute desperation you usually find in cities.
The islands across the water at the end of my road were a myriad of blues this morning. Often you can't see them at all; they seem to come and go as they please.
The codebreakers came in for wine and Carols from King's; their radio reception is poor, so they took me up on the offer of listening via the Beeb website. I find it strange that people who worked alongside Alan Turing and the Colossus would be so wary of a laptop, but there you go. Mr C went up to King's College in 1943, and hearing the service evokes a whole lot of emotions and memories for him and Mrs C. It was a lovely afternoon.
And so on to Christmas Eve evening...
Being the youngest in the family has its pros and cons. I loved being the youngest on Christmas Eve, because it meant that I was the one to light the Christmas Candle, which burned in the window all evening.
My niece Molly is a couple of minutes younger than her brother Jack, so she's in charge in Dublin tonight.
Remember, never leave candles or 17-month old kidlets unattended.