It's been a relaxing day. We called in at Julie's on our way down, for a quick cup of tea, a look through a bag of yarn and a natter, and reached Lewes at 4pm.
We ate pizzas, exchanged gifts, listened to classical music and walked Meriel's dog, Berry, through the still streets of the town, staring into the windows of houses on the High Street, very much enjoying the sight of all the twinkly Christmas decorations within. It was all rather charmingly Victorian and I'm really beginning to understand the pull of this particular corner of the world.
The evening ended in front of Uncle Bill's open fire, where we put the world to rights for several hours whilst eating tangerines.
After the absolute mayhem of the last few weeks, I'm finally beginning to feel human again. Quite how long this feeling will last, I'm not sure. Tomorrow is tax day. I shudder.
350 years ago the snow was so heavy that Pepys was unable to get much further than his office next door. The Pepys household was joined by a new family member; a cook-maid called Susan who history has not rewarded with a surname. She was destined to remain in Pepys' employment on and off for about a year.
Her name is mentioned in my Pepys Motet within a passage of the diary written at the very end of 1662, which I set to music as part of the work's (as yet unrecorded) second movement.