Not as it should be CD+2

CD+2 was not spent as it should have been, travelling up to see my folks, lots of chat, eats, prezzies, CD MkII in fact, but all that fell by the way side in the early hours as the apprentice was poorly bad. By mid morning he was so poorly that we had to take him to the emergency Doc who can be found if you persevere. Doc gave coughing child the once over with several high tech pieces of kit and pronounced that his oxygen levels were lower than they should be, his temperature was well above normal and that the apprentice was indeed a poorly boy. More medication was prescribed and after blocking the local high street by illegally parking while fetching meds, lil t and yours truly were safe back at the ranch and wrapped up under a duvet in front of the TV. Which is where he stayed until (and this is clearly a sign of quite how ill he is) around 6 pm when he asked if he could go to bed. Rug rat MkII decidd to hop on the see how ill I am bandwagon before retiring to bed and so began a very long night of sitting by coughing child and hope they fall asleep so we can.

CD+1

CD+1 or Boxing Day as its more traditionally named, traditionally spent going to the shops to buy batteries for yesterdays gifts and eating left overs. As the bipeds that inhabit Rock HQ were feeling poorly (not hungover) it was in fact a very quiet day spent making puzzles with the apprentice and stopping rug rat MkII eating pieces waiting to be fitted.

CD+18 hours

Christmas finally arrived and much jollity and fun was had by all. Father Christmas had excelled himself and the sack of well wrapped presents were soon demolished by the apprentice and rug rat MII leaving the cottage floor under a cover of festive ripped bits.
Family arrived in time for Champers and nibbles before a huge feast . Gifts were exchanged, small children entertained, older children admirably managed to keep younger siblings amused and provided insight into what lies ahead for he who cannot be named (number one son) and his lovely wife who are making yours truly a granddad next year. He who cannot be named spent at least an hour assembling the toy garage they had bought the apprentice while I got on with the more important things like drinking gunfire. Twas (festive word) an excellent day made fun by all present, so a big thank you and Merry Christmas one and all!

CD-1

Twas the night before Christmas (CD-1 in new money) a time traditionally spent by parents fretting over the presents for their sproglets that invariably require some form of self assembly. This armed with the required tools, namely a power screw driver and pair of scissors (the latter due to the fact the pliers and house spanner were missing) and several medicinal beers the apprentice's go kart and rug rat MkII's gifts were laid before me (or rather their bits were) and I began the task of reading the instructions. In bold letters on the front of the go karts was a stark notice "It is the duty of the importer to translate the instructions into your home language"
Thankfully the Welsh importer had done a fantastic job and within two pints the four wheeled fun machine was ready for action. Flush with success I turned to the Baby Gym instruction book and took a sip of beer 3. The instructions made very little sense at first glance, primarily due to the fact they were written in German. Having been Mr Organised this year I had got the baby gym med November and now remembered the import documents, made in Germany, for Germans, no need to translate. Panic set in along with a beer fuelled idea to phone my mate Andy in Germany but several things prevented this happening, such as time difference, not wanting to induce a sense of humour failure on a new dad, losing his phone number and an unwillingness to admit defeat. In any case having spent a while in Germany I was pretty sure I knew my rechts from links, and whilst my ability to identify the right schraubenmutter and bolzen might be impared I was going to verschrauben this rutschbahn together before the fat bloke descended and scoffed the mince pie, carrot and overly generous sherry left out as a bribe.
As the picture shows ich bin der champion baby fitnessraum bauherr! And I go to the mince pie and sherry first.

The war continues

 Mrs Bear, having evicted Mr Bear from the sofa next to the woodburner enjoys her victory

which was very shortlived thanks to Belle.

Was it worth it?

 For once in my life I was totally organised for Christmas. So organised in fact that I had found the ideal gift for my beautiful and oh so patient wife at the end of October, a lovely Golden Retriever who would be 8 weeks old three days before Christmas and within driving distance of Rock HQ (read within 300 miles) The fact we already have 13 dogs (at the time) is a side issue and early signs of the prudence of this decision were called into question by the return of Mrs Bear to our care. So by the time GR arrived there would be 14 K9's, so with that in mind the idea that one more really wont make much more mess the decision to go ahead was made and the secret of Advent Belle (thats her name) was kept right up until she arrived late 21st December. Such a secret in fact that when my beautiful and oh so patient wife was asked to come outside in the dark into the howling wind and rain she thought I was off my rocker and was about to show her a motorbike I had bought off ebay. (I haven't) (yet)

 In the back of the recently repaired Gerry she found a crate with this pup inside.

The look on her face reminds me it was all worth it. A fact I recalled as I stepped barefoot into a puppy mine as I wandered zombie like to the kettle this morning.

Asleep on the job

I caught Apoll napping on a new bed of hay, hay that I had very carefully unloaded from a trailer of fresh supplies delivered 

 
 to keep the equines going through the Christmas break. With that in mind I loaded the ring feeder with abundant breakfasts in the hope that that might save some time in the mornings.

 Apollo having stuffed himself took advantage of the soft stuff and made a new bed.

Much to everyone's annoyance.

Ups and downs

 Its been a manic few days hence no tome to argue with the internet gremlins and try and get a posting on. Working evenings in the far reaches of the Red Kite empire mean that time was allowed early doors to see the apprentice play lead Rudlolf in the playgroup Christmas production. He having the only speaking part did well while the staff dressed as elves did a fine job of herding 20 or so different sized and in some cases emotional reindeers around the building.
Meantime Gerry, my preferred mode of transport for journeys over 30 miles, got over the shock of passing his MOT with no hassle and freaked out 50 miles from HQ. The audible warning similar to a striken submarine and the red lights flashing on the dashboard forced even yours truly (who has immense capacity to ignore warning signs) over to a lay by and seek assistance. The fourth emergency service for Land Rover Discoveries (my mate Steve who has got one) did not know what was wrong but was able to tell me the ACE system had failed. Google did not throw any light on what that was but it did say if the light was amber then that was ok, if red and noisy (like striken sub) then stop and await casevac. As neither Steve or Google said that driving it home would result in an explosion I decided to risk it.
Gerry was dropped off with nice mechanic man who was surprised to pass Gerry for his MOT but not surprised that I had broken him so soon again.
While I was out some nice builders arrived at HQ and removed the front door, which from one side was ok but from the front side showed what 7 years abuse by keen Bernese Mountain Dogs can do. New door is bomb proof and glass, thus giving more light to the cottage and endless opportunity for rug rat MkII to tease dogs.

Inevitably 3 hours sat in a room with 20 crying reindeers, their parents and grand parents, the opportunity for bugs to transfer from ill person to well person was massive. Sure enough 6 hours after his grand performance on stage the apprentice was barfing up his hay, and within 24 hours my beautiful and oh so patient wife and rug rat mkII joined him. I managed to escape until 5 am when an unexpected conversation with God on the great white telephone rendered me incapable of work. Which meant I missed a lovely duck comfit salad made for me by one of my colleagues. I'm hoping it will keep until the new year.
On the good news front Gerry was repaired today and is back in action in half the time expected and for half the money.