2022 begins but the party isn't over, Elliot says "shopping no", my father Courtenay Lloyd's obituary in The Telegraph, "Putin's People", Djokovic detained in Australia, Kings' Day, 1921 census in England and other stories.

 Sunday, 9th January, 2022

With not so little Juliet in my arms on Kings' Day

Good morning all.

Let me start this week's post by sharing  some good news which is a bit rare at the moment.   Last week'st I reported that Eladio's 99 year old mother was very ill. We really thought it was the end but it wasn't. The good news is that by 2nd January she had completely recovered, enough to join in a family whatsapp call. Thank goodness for that I say and cheers to her. I can't wait to see her reach 100, the first member of her family to do so.

That cheered us up enormously last Sunday. It was a quiet day for us spent alone with Pippa. We needed some quiet time to recover  from the excesses of our New Year's celebrations.  I always find the beginning of a new year difficult. It takes time to adjust I think. Thus 2022 began quietly.  But my friends, the party, at least in Spain, was not over as we had Kings' Day to come. More about that later.

On Sunday I dared go out for a walk despite the pain in my knee. I reckoned it could not do much damage as it will be operated on on 13th of this month. Yes, that's next week. As I will be out of action for a while afterwards I thought the walk would do me good. It did and I came back feeling energised. Lunch and dinner were leftovers, so no news there. There was news though when I had a very long Facetime video call with our friends Kathy and Phil who live in my beloved Yorkshire. Kathy was still getting over Covid - poor thing. Most of the symptoms had gone except for a wretched cough. Surprisingly Phil continued to test negative which may prove some people are immune. Who knows? My other friends, Jacky and her husband John, are not in this category as they too got Covid on Christmas Day. I was sorry to hear that and hope they are better soon. Thankfully the Omicron variant is less harsh than the previous Alpha and Delta ones. As the virus has taken hold and spread like wildfire we know more and more people who have got it whereas we did not know anyone in our circle or family with Covid before.  In my opinion this proves Omicron is the most contagious of all the variants. On the other hand, this and the vaccine programme are achieving what many governments want and that is "herd immunity". Remember that term when Covid began? It was unthinkable then - Boris Johnson didn't agree - but now it looks it might be achievable but not through the way he had planned.  I hope  this proves the prediction of the WHO that this year we will see the end of Covid as we know it today. Time will tell of course.

On a different note, that day the Facebook reminded me of a photo of Eladio and I taken on New Year's Eve in 2010 - 12 years ago; no, 11 years ago. Does it matter? We looked so much younger. Wow so much has happened since then. I got lots of compliments but I know that we look older. However, the good news here is that as a couple we remain united and in love. What would I do without my wonderful husband by my side? If you haven't seen it, this is it. Today Eladio's hair is greyer - at least he has hair - and I have loads more wrinkles especially around my neck. I enviously see that my eyelids didn't droop in 2010 as they do now. 

Eladio and I on NYE 2010 - looking a lot younger but just as happy as a couple

We discussed age in our video call as Kathy and I often do these days. I predicted that my bones  -arthritis will probably be my downfall. But who knows? We also discussed having very old parents and caring for them and that one day it will be our own children facing the same situation with us. Not a nice thought. Wouldn't it be nice to age without all the aches and pains and diseases such as dementia and Parkinsons? Hopefully science can help some time in the future. Again, who knows?

Apart from our walk and my Facetime call I didn't do much that day of any interest so let me move on to Monday 3rd January. I was up at 7 am and had quite a long and quiet day in parts. The morning was quiet and we went on our walk - slowly in my case. I made "cocido" for lunch, that Madrilenian winter dish based on chickpeas and various meats and vegetables. We needed a siesta afterwards. I was up and about shortly afterwards thinking just how quiet our life was when I heard noise downstairs.

It was Oli and family who had come on a surprise visit. It seems they were at Lidl when Elliot said "shopping, no. Booboos' house" (Booboo is his name for his grandfather). He clearly does not like shopping as Eladio doesn't either. They certainly livened up the house and it was wonderful to have their company in the library lounge with the fire on.

Enjoying the surprise visit of our grandchildren on Monday

I thought they would stay for dinner but they didn't. I did though give them some "cocido" for Elliot which I was told later he gobbled down in great delight. I'm glad he likes my cooking.

Tuesday came and it was another quiet day. We were out on errands in the morning and in the afternoon I went to the dentist to have my final crown put in. It was a quick procedure but my mouth feels strange. I haven't yet got used to the new bite so to speak. My mouth is rubbish. I have a 4 piece bridge, 2 implants and now a double crown. On the outside they appear good - if a little stained - as they are straight but underneath tells a different story. Possibly this is due to all the sweets I ate as a kid. 

The news about Covid and the Omicron variant was more than dire that day. In Spain it is nowhere near the peak yet and we have around 2.500 cases per million. That day the country reported over 100.000 new infections. The US reported over a million! France, the UK, Italy and Spain are the countries worse affected in Europe.  Spain has now reached just under 90.000 deaths and the UK 150.000. So far, we are free of it but who knows for how long.

That night we continued watching Stay Close but we were not convinced. When Eladio falls asleep I have been turning to Downton Abbey. But I have now finished the series which I last watched for the last 5 years ago and there is nothing good enough to take its place. Any suggestions?

Wednesday came and I was happy. I was happy because the journalist Jake Kerridge, a book critic who loved my book btw, and who had written my father's obituary for The Telegraph, a big national right wing UK paper (with a paywall) had told me the obituary would would come out that day. And it did. 

What an honour - my father's obituary in The Telegraph this week

This is the text if you are interested. I think it's quite a good summary: 

"Courtenay Lloyd, well-loved schoolmaster who taught Russian to spies and married an exiled princess – obituary

The polyglot Lloyd taught at the Cambridge Joint Services language school, then at Bradford Grammar, where he let his showman side emerge

Courtenay Lloyd, who has died aged 102, hunted Nazis in post-War Germany, taught a generation of future diplomats – and spies – at the Joint Services School for Linguists in Cambridge, became an inspirational teacher at Bradford Grammar School, and married a Russian princess.

Charles Courtenay Lloyd was born in Amington, then in Warwickshire, on May 1 1919, the son of the Reverend John Collins Lloyd and his wife Dorothy (née Scull). His father later became vicar of St Mary’s Church, Henbury, near Bristol, and Courtenay was educated at Clifton College, where he excelled at languages.

When he was 16, however, his father, fearful of the effects of the Great Depression, removed him mid-term and secured him a job at the Imperial Tobacco Company, where one of his parishioners was general manager. Lloyd’s longevity can be partly attributed to his rarely touching the free carton of cigarettes he received every week.

The job – collating coverage of the company’s activities in foreign newspapers – was ideal for a linguist, but he longed to continue his studies, and after taking night classes won a place at Selwyn College, Cambridge, to read French and German.

In 1940 he joined the RNVR, where in the cruiser Norfolk, he caused great amusement among his shipmates by kneeling to say his prayers, and wearing pyjamas; he also recalled that one of his duties was to hand out French letters to the seamen whenever they reached port, despite having no idea what they were for.

In April 1941 he served as liaison officer in several destroyers on loan to the Norwegian Navy, based in Liverpool and employed on Atlantic convoy duties. Briefly he served in the British destroyer Wells as signals officer, before in late 1944 he was appointed to the Admiralty to work for the Director of Naval Intelligence. 

VE-Day saw him in Orkney, where, he recalled, the habitual quiet was shattered by drunken servicemen taking service cars for joyrides and pranging them.

Requesting an appointment which would make use of his rapidly acquired Norwegian, he was sent to Oslo in October 1945 to serve with the Allied forces overseeing the dismantling of the German occupation. In 1943 he was awarded the Norwegian War Medal and in 1946 King Haakon VII presented him with the Liberty Medal.

Lloyd was then offered a job by the Allied Control Commission in Germany, heading a team of six who were tasked with tracking down Nazi war criminals in hiding. Three of the team were German Jews who had fled before the War and become British citizens. Lloyd recalled the work as not being too difficult, since most Germans, including the police, were eager to co-operate.

In 1948 he finally resumed his interrupted studies at Cambridge, switching to German and Norwegian. He then studied Russian under Professor (later Dame) Elizabeth Hill. She became a lifelong friend, a formidable character who would rearrange his furniture to her liking whenever she visited him.

In 1951 she invited him to become her “right-hand man” at the Cambridge branch of the Joint Services School for Linguists (JSSL), where National Servicemen were put through intensive training in Russian so that they could become translators and interpreters – or in some cases, operatives – for the Intelligence Services. The Russians regarded it as a “spy school” and tasked Guy Burgess with collecting information on it.

Courtenay Lloyd during his time in HMS Wells, 1942

Lloyd protested that his Russian was insufficient, but Elizabeth Hill insisted that he merely needed to be a lesson ahead of his pupils. He proved to be a natural teacher and administrator, remembered by Philip Hanson, later Professor of Soviet Economics at Birmingham University, for his “amazing ability to recall from one week to the next who had got exactly which grammatical construction wrong the last time round”.

He was described by Geoffrey Elliott and Harold Shukman in Secret Classrooms (2002), their history of the JSSL, as “a shy and gentle man prone to blushing, [who] figures improbably in the archives as the official in charge of discipline and of reprimanding absentees and other miscreants, though doing so must have hurt him more than it hurt them.”

One of his colleagues was Her Serene Highness Princess Elena von Lieven, a Russian aristocrat whose family had fled to Bulgaria after the Revolution, then into Western Europe after the Russian invasion; she was the god-daughter of Princess Zinaida Yusupova, mother of Rasputin’s murderer. Penniless, she was working as an announcer for the BBC Russian Service when Elizabeth Hill recruited her to the JSSL. She and Lloyd married in 1953.

Lloyd subsequently taught Russian at RAF College Cranwell and published a First Russian Reader in 1965. In 1964, with the Cold War thawing, he took up a post teaching modern languages at Bradford Grammar School.

The Lloyds purchased a 20-room mansion which they crammed with lodgers; a Czech family who had fled following the suppression of the Prague Spring were housed for free. As his wife took up a teaching job some distance away at Leeds University, Lloyd took on the cleaning and, often more pluckily than successfully, the cooking.

In contrast to his quiet demeanour at home, where he was content to let his voluble wife do most of the talking, Lloyd proved to be something of a showman as a teacher, and was much-loved.

He was particularly cherished for the school trips he organised to the USSR, where pupils could expect to be entertained at the flat of the British Cultural Attaché – one of Lloyd’s former JSSL students. One downside, the boys recalled, was that their party sometimes received inferior service on trains or in shops, because Lloyd spoke Russian so well that he was assumed to be a native rather than a tourist.

Lloyd was a traditionalist who once threatened his wife with divorce if she bought a dishwasher; if prevailed on to accompany his family to a beach, he would sit fully dressed reading The Times. When his son asked him to explain the facts of life, Lloyd retorted: “Get on with your German verbs!” He liked to holiday alone, and walked everywhere, having never driven a car except in postwar Germany.

Lloyd endured a good deal of tragedy in his life: his brother died of polio, aged 16, in 1938; his sister died in an aeroplane crash along with her husband and three children in 1971; his wife died in 1999, their son George in 2001, and George’s wife in 2008. Lloyd remained stoical, recalling the words printed on a picture of a fawn that hung above his bed as a child: “Be a good beast, suffer in silence.”

He retired to Madrid to live with his surviving daughter Masha and her family, and latterly gave English lessons to his carers. On his 100th birthday his daughter published a biography of him, and he received a personal message of congratulation from the King of Norway.

Courtenay Lloyd, born May 1 1919, died November 8 2021"

That was my breakfast reading. I loved reading the comments too and was surprised at the interest in my father by The Telegraph's readers but then of course his life was quite extraordinary. These are just two of them: "What an interesting and productive life this chap lived. Wonderful that his skills in languages were picked up when he was so young, and then polished up to the betterment of our country. The few little differences he had to the common man just add exactly the right amount of spice to the obituary. Job very well done. RIP." "Another light from a lost world extinguished. Fab obit full of touches befitting a man who obviously touched many.RIP and God bless you Sir."

Later friends sent me the newspaper clipping. It is far more impressive to see the written print although as a PR professional I do know that far more people read the news online than they do in print. 

My father's "obit" in The Telegraph this week

That perked me up for the day. So did the  other comments from unknown readers who were wowed by the story of my father, a man they had never heard of. Some of them were spurred on to buy my book which made me very happy.  

Wednesday 5th turned out to be an important day for many reasons. At home life was quiet. The highlights were our walk in the sun and good old fish and chips for lunch. 5th December in Spain is known as "Noche de Reyes" - the Eve of the 3 Kings - and children around the country get as excited as children in the rest of the world when Father Christmas comes. Spanish kids actually get both but traditionally "Reyes" is always more important. Parents take their children to see the many many 3 Kings' processions held all around the country. It was to be Elliot's first time. I think he didn't grasp much as he was asleep part of the time and it was raining. I remember when we used to take his mother and her sister to the procession in Boadilla many years ago. Far grander is the one held in Madrid but who wants the bother of traffic, parking and trying to find a spot to see their majesties, Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar? It's much easier to watch it on TV.

I watched a lot of TV that day including the beautiful film "August Rush" a sort of modern day Oliver Twist but where the orphan is a musical prodigy. A bit sickly sweet but I adored it. That night Eladio and I watched a film we also loved. "100 year journey" tells the story of an Indian family setting up a restaurant in rural France with competition from a traditional Michelin star restaurant (Helen Mirren) across the road. This really took our mind off all our current worries which, if you have been following my story in the past few months, will know it is about our squatter. Damn the man. 

It was that day I came across the book "Putin's People" written by the ex FT correspondent in Russia, the British journalist Catherine Belton. A friend sent me the pdf but I would probably have bought the book anyway. It has been named book of the year for 2020 by none less than The Economist, The Telegraph, The Times and The Financial Times. I have only read the first 30 pages but am very alarmed at Putin's tentacles in London - a frightening portrait of Russia's influence in the western world. In the book she tells of interviewing our squatter in Boadilla at a cafeteria where he describes  the part he played in bringing Putin to power. She refers to him as a "KGB operative". Do you now understand why we are so worried?  Here is an interview with her where she describes meeting "he who shall not be mentioned". 

The book where our squatter is described as a KGB operative and one  of those who was instumental in bringing Putin to power. 

Being one of "Putin's People", no doubt he thinks he is above the law. This week I found out too that he has duped his latest car renting company who he hadn't paid. He gave them false a BBVA bank transfer receipt just as he did us. They have now taken his car away. 

In France meanwhile, President Macron was damning those unvaccinated as numbers of  those infected sore. He used the words "Je vais emmerder les non vaccinés". His words very not very presidential and this could cause him problems with elections coming up. Frankly I think he is right. This week Italy has made it compulsory for those over 50 to be vaccinated. In Austria it is compulsory for all those eligible and the unvaccinated in most parts of the world are those who are causing  most admissions to hospitals.

This week we learned that the tennis star Novak Djokovic is probably one of them. He has certainly showed his doubts about being vaccinated on occasion and now he is stuck in Australia where he had traveled to compete in the Australian Open which he has won many times. You all know by now that he has been detained and that the Australian population are up in arms. 

This story is front page news worldwide and has probably damaged Novak's reputation forever. So while he was in quarantine and detained in some seedy hotel on the outskirts of Melbourne, life continued for us mortals.

We woke up on Kings' Day looking forward to enjoying it with our grandchildren. They were here for breakfast and Oli brought the "roscones" - a "roscón" is a special cake with or without cream in it and is a sort of enriched sponge cake with angelica on the top and is delicious. I laid the table so it all looked festive. I caught Elliot in the photo sitting in my father's place. He is of course the future. 

Elliot at the breakfast table on Kings' Day

Elliot was going to enjoy his presents afterwards, the ones under the tree.

Our tree with the presents ready for opening

He was excited and kept saying "oto" ("otro" - another one) and "open". His first present was a Fireman Sam train set which I suspect his father enjoyed more than him hahaha. I had bought his some really cheapo looking Paw Patrol figures which were most disappointing but he loves them. Here he is with his mother and Juliet opening a present.

Elliot enjoying opening presents

Meanwhile I looked on contentedly while little or not so little Juliet was in my arms. She is just so lovely but far too young at 4 months to know what was going on. I have chosen it as this week's feature photo.

While the kids enjoy presents on Kings' Day mothers, mostly, have to make a lunch fit for kings. That was my job of course. I made roast lamb with all the trimmings and we didn't sit down until about 3 pm. Our table looked festive again, the last time this Christmas as now the party is definitely over.

Our Kings' Day lunch table

Missing of course to make the day complete were my father and Suzy. The next day, 7th January, Facebook reminded me of our Kings' Day 10 years ago on 6th January 2012. There we were all together. Again my father's absence was felt, as it is every day. 

Our Kings' Day family photo with my father 10 years ago. 

My father loved the celebrations and we loved him partaking in them.

The rest of the day was spent lazily. I had eaten so much all I could do was sleep. Of course I didn't want any dinner. I just drank copious amounts of water. 

Friday 7th January came, the day of Russian Christmas which we used to celebrate at home when I was a child. I doubt my "KGB operative" squatter even bothered. At least we didn't see him that day.

For the record that day I wore one of my Kings' Day presents. I got two lovely dresses, chosen by me hahaha but officially from my husband. This is the H&M one - a long jumper dress, my favourite comfort clothing.

Wearing my new dress

What I did see that day and which amazed me was the entry for my father's family in the 1921 census which opened to the public on 6th January 2022, 101 years after. My second cousin, Katriona, who lives in Glasgow sent me the information pertaining to my father. It was quite a unique moment; a flash back to 100 years ago. Katriona has an account with www.findmypast.com and so do I but you have to pay for the information - about 3.5 pounds but maybe it's worth it. I cannot fathom why it takes so long for a census to become public. Let me share with you the family entry. P.D. Katriona is my father's great niece - daughter of William Fox Lloyd, his father, John Collins Lloyd's brother.

The entry for my father and his family in the 1921 Census

The census is a snapshot of society 101 years ago - for England and Wales - some 38 million people. In my family's entry I can see the ages of my grandparents 33 and 29 - and my father 2 of course. They were quite old to be parents in those days. Of interest is that living with them also were my grandmother's sister and mother. Even more interesting, the inclusion of a "servant" - Annie Davies - who is described as single. I suppose in those days it was normal to have a servant. My father did mention that his family had servants and a cook at times. He remembers one  who had such a stutter she could often only communicate by singing. I wonder if that was Anne Davies who has a Welsh surname as the Welsh are well known for singing? I shall never know. I shall never know either what the comment "both alive" next to my father's entry means. The census is handwritten so I can only surmise a clerk made a mistake and should have put maybe "born alive". But even that doesn't make much sense. No, we shall never know. But by golly I was gobsmacked to see the entry from 1921 of my father and his family. 

Friday 7th was the day we should have taken down the Christmas decorations but I procrastinated - a behaviour my father always abhorred. But I'm sure he would have loved that we did the food shopping and had a coffee out. When he first came to live with us he always did the food shopping with Eladio and loved those outings.

The rest of the day was spent quietly with not much to report so let me move on to Saturday 8th January. That was the day our squatter's car was probably taken away as "he who should not be mentioned" went out with his accumulated rubbish (we no longer clean his room or give him new linen), came back in and then never left the house and we haven't seen the car. Thus we were home alone with him which was a frightening prospect. We realised we could not leave the house together. Therefore we got down to the unpleasant task of removing the Christmas decorations, a task I always hate. This year we did it in record time.

Elliot playing with his toys

We decided then that we could go on our walks but separately.  While Eladio was out I sat on one of the sofas in the lounge where you can see the staircase and control his movements. He came into the kitchen twice and I told him I would prefer him not to come in again and NOT to touch Pippa (after all two of our dogs died last year during his stay). He looked in dire straits. Oli was worried and we both came up with a solution - to put a camera in the kitchen. The other solution was to put on the alarm while we had our siesta. 

Oli and family came in the afternoon to install the camera but they also brought us company and comfort. With them in the house he didn't dare come down from what is not his room. I can only surmise too that he has run out of food. To get to the nearest supermarket it is at least a 1.5km walk. He probably had a few biscuits but not much else.  The camera was installed also to make sure he doesn't steal our food. This all sounds completely demented doesn't it? That in your own house a squatter is protected by law to stay there and that he has rights is something from a horror story. Well, that's what we are living, our own horror story. 

While Oli and family were here though we were able to focus on other things - apart from Miguel who had to set up the camera and connect it to my phone. We talked about my father and our house in Heaton Grove, Bradford - number 6, never to be forgotten and where we moved in in 1965. 

6 Heaton Grove, Bradford. Our family home from 1965 to 2005

Our house, like others on the street, was built by rich German wool merchants in the middle of the 19th century. In fact my parents bought it from a German Jewish couple, The "Groppers". It still had the original bathroom fixtures which were Victorian and beautiful. We should have kept them. Oli remembered the house well and wanted to find pictures from our old family albums to remember it better. That got us looking at other albums and we found some treasures. Perhaps the one I love best is the one below. It is of my father on Christmas Day with me and the girls in about 1990. He was 71 then. As Oli remarked he still had another 30 years to live. 

With my father at our old house on Christmas Day 1990 (circa)

Always a traditionalist, as the journalist pointed out in the obituary, he was wearing a tie that day and his suit. He looked so happy. We all looked happy.

We miss his presence but have our memories. He would have loved to have been with us yesterday by the fire with our tea and Oli's panettone. It's an Italian cake eaten at Christmas usually which has made it's way around the world into people's houses at Christmas. Being a traditionalist like my father I always rejected the idea. Also I thought I didn't really like panettone. Oli insisted I try hers and I had to admit it was delicious. 

The grandchildren took our minds off our horrible squatter situation and Elliot retired to his toy corner in the library lounge where he loves to play with his little figures and the girls' Fisher Price doll house. I caught him on camera.

Elliot playing yestereday at our house

It was soon dinner time. None of was hungry and we toyed with the idea of a take away. In the end I rustled up a meal including some of the last "perushki". Oli and family left late and we went to bed late, worried about the situation of course.

Today is Sunday and I haven't seen him yet but will tell him today that he cannot use our kitchen or our things anymore. A tense situation which is about to get tenser I'm afraid.

On the bright side - I always like to look on the bright side - today is a sunny day and we shall take our walks but separately. Hopefully we will be joined by our grandchildren again this afternoon.

So my friends, these are the tales of this week. Happy reading and cheers till next Sunday,

Masha

Our year in 2021, Boxing Day, got my booster jab, some retail therapy , negative Covid test, New Year's Eve and New Year's Day and here's to a better 2022.

Sunday 2nd January 2022

My family on New Year's Eve this year

Good morning all.

Well, it's now 2022, a new year, new beginnings and hopefully a better year for us than 2021. This time last year we were saying goodbye and good riddance to 2020, hoping for a better 2021. Tomorrow marks the 3rd anniversary of the first 44 cases of Covid which came of out of  city we had never heard of, Wuhan. We all thought this would be like bird flu and never spread outside China. On New Year's Eve 2019 the world felt like it always did. We had no idea what was coming. Since then an estimated 3 billion people have become infected and approximately 5.5 million people have died. The British press are estimating that in the next 3 months we will see a further 3 billion infected with the Omicron variant. That is double the amount of people in 3 months compared to 3 years! However, we all know now that however contagious this variant i.s and it is apparently the most contagious virus ever, it is a lot less lethal than the former variants. The WHO is predicting that in 2022 we will see the end of Covid. Really? 

Our hopes this time last year were  mostly on seeing the end of Covid. But that was not to be. Luckily and I am crossing my fingers here, so far, we have not been affected. However, Covid aside, I had no idea then that 2021 would bring so much bad news to our home and family. 

When I think about our year, there have been good times and bad. Overall, I am pleased to say goodbye to it but I'm not sure how 2022 is going to treat us. So let me take a look back at 2021. 

January 2021 will be remembered for when Trump's supporters stormed The Capitol and for the swearing in of Joe Biden. I'm not sure what to think of this elderly democrat's year in power. Are you? January in Madrid will be remembered for the biggest snowfall in 50 years. 

January 2021 - the biggest snowfall in Madrid in 50 years

It was on 9th January that our current squatter moved in. He did so legally and was the perfect guest until the end of September when he showed his real face for the first time and stopped paying. He totally duped  and groomed us  into thinking that we could trust him. We should have never have done so. Now we await a trial which could take months. I truly hope that we get rid of him asap.

February, the month I turned 64, was the month of the Mars landings which we have probably all forgotten about now. We will not have forgotten that Sir Captain Tom Moore passed away aged 100 that month. For us February brought good news. Olivia was pregnant with Juliet. What better than a second grandchild to look forward to?  Juliet has been the brightest star in our sky this year.

In March, sadly, we had to put down dear Elsa, our 9 year old loving and beautiful labrador. That took some getting over. The house was not the same without her. Little did we know that more was coming.

That month my father got his first jab. Stupidly we took him to the health centre instead of waiting for a home visit which would have been slower. 

My father getting his first jab

That visit brought great damage to his leg; just a small scrape we don't know against what, turned into a full blown wound, necrosis included. We were still curing it before he died. Poor man, what he had to go through, yet he never complained. 

I got my first jab in April. It was the now the not so wanted AstraZeneca but I was pleased. 

 Celebrating my first anti Covid vaccine

In my home country, April, sadly, saw the passing away of the Queen's beloved husband, HRH, The Duke of Edinburgh. He died just short of turning 100. The whole country mourned his death and we all felt for The Queen.  In May, his contemporary, my father, turned 102 and it was a happy, happy day. 

My father on 31st April, the day before he turned 102. I love this photo, one of the best - taken by Miguel, Oli's partner

There was good news in May too when the State of Alarm came to an end. It meant we could now travel again and off we went straight to our now not so new house anymore, in Asturias. Our days away at our other houses are always a tonic and we have enjoyed each and every one of them. Now that my father is no longer with us we should be able to travel guilt free and for longer periods of time but we can't because of "he who should not be mentioned" I'm afraid. May 21st marked the 50th anniversary of the death of my father's sister, my Aunty Gloria and all her family in a fatal air crash in Rijeka. If you are a regular reader of my blog you will know just how much this marked our life. The church in the village of Ickenham held a service for them but it was without any public which is so sad. I hope that one day I can go to St. Giles Church and hold a proper anniversary service. God bless them. 

June saw me anxious and worried and busy. I had the huge task of getting our older daughter Suzy out of Nicaragua and Costa Rica after a trying period there where she was operated on for acute appendicitis. Those were very worrying and difficult times. Also worrying and difficult was settling her again in Spain. Today she is living in our apartment in Santa Pola and she hasn't been here for Christmas which saddens me of course. 

In July the EU Covid passports came into force. As I had had my second vaccine in June, it would have come in handy if I were to travel abroad but we didn't. I think 2021 is possibly the only year in my life when I haven't been out of the country. I would love to travel to England, my home country, where I haven't been since before the Pandemic in the summer of 2019. My last trip abroad was to France to see my cousins in January 2020. I long to travel again.  But we could only travel really in Spain and that month spent a few lovely days in Asturias again.  July, by the way, saw the start of the Olympic Games which were a bit watered down thanks to Covid. What wasn't watered down because of Covid? Not many things. It certainly put a huge damper once again this year on our lives and despite what the WHO predicts I don't think it will be over any time soon.

August was the hottest month in Spain and we got away from the heatwave for a few days by escaping to Montrondo. August will be remembered for the Plymouth shootings but far more for the Taliban take over in Afghanistan. That poor country has now gone back centuries and I feel for its people, especially the women. On the bright side, that month we celebrated our 38th wedding anniversary by going away for a few days to La Rioja, the lovely wine growing region in Spain. There, any troubles we had seemed to disappear and we enjoyed our time together. I often wonder what I would do without my husband by my side.

Celebrating our 38th wedding anniversary in La Rioja in August this year

September saw us in Asturias for a short time where we enjoyed decent weather. We had to come back earlier than planned though for Juliet's birth. Our dear granddaughter was born on 4th September and this time the birth was far easier. This little baby is a blessing and she has turned into an angel and saint as she is so well behaved. Elliot was far more difficult.

Holding little Juliet for the first time. We felt so blessed

A lot of things happened in September. It was the month that the Swedish band, Abba, returned to the stage, albeit as avatars but it was big news. Even bigger news was the win at the US Open by Emma Raducanu, now a national hero in the UK. On the home front, Elliot turned 2 and we had a birthday party for him. It was in September too when we were in Santa Pola with Suzy that the volcano in La Palma (Canary Islands) erupted. We could never believe it would last 85 days or more. On Christmas Day it was officially over. It was while I was in Santa Pola that I slipped on the pavement after going for a meal of fish and chips which I now wish we had never done. The slip brought with it an injury on my left knee. 

At the hospital after injuring my knee in September

You all know the end of the story now. I have one meniscus torn and the other with wear and tear. On 13th January the torn one will be operated on. I will be out of action for up to 8 weeks afterwards. 

October started with sad news. Very suddenly, our 11 year old beagle, Norah, died of a heart attack although that wasn't the main cause as she had cancer. Oh how so very very sad. She was a very special dog with lots of personality and gusto for life and food. She was often known as Norah the food snatcher. God bless her.

On 2nd October we lost Norah.

We had gone from 3 dogs at the beginning of 2021 to just one now and I'm sure little Pippa still misses her canine sisters. They left a huge gaping hole in this house and family. People ask me if we will get another dog. We won't. I don't think we could go through losing one again. I know we will lose Pippa one day. She is 7 so hopefully she will be in good health for quite a few years. Pippa is my shadow and although I complain she harasses me a lot, I wouldn't want it any other way.

While there were huge queues in the UK for petrol that month, there was no such issue in Spain. I think the problem of the supply and demand chain had not reached us in such a negative way yet.  Thus we were able to go away to Asturias again, and take Pippa with us, our last trip of the year. I remember it fondly as we had quite good weather and explored the area. One of the great things about the house is its location. There are so many places to visit in the surrounding areas. I particularly remember visiting the pretty seaside town of Lastres, made famous in a doctor series in Spain (Doctor Mateo). It was in Lastres where one of our best photos as a couple this year was taken. It was at the view point over the harbour and village. I used it for this year's Xmas card. Yes that was a happy moment and I am in need of happy moments as there haven't been too many this year.

With the love of my life in Lastres - October this year

We felt blessed then and did not know what was coming. I did, however, expect at some stage to receive approval for my application for Spanish nationality. It was in October that I received notification after having applied one year before. That was only really the end of the beginning  as there have been so many things to do afterwards. Bureaucracy in this country can be daunting but I think I am nearly there. I now have a Spanish ID card (DNI), two surnames - Lloyd Lieven and a coveted Spanish and EU passport. I still have my UK passport that no one is taking away from me although I had to swear to a notary that I was giving up my UK nationality. To hell I am. 

After 2 years of paperwork I finally got Spanish nationality. Here I am with my brand new Spanish ID card and passport. 

November was our "horribilis mensis". It started off well with a cultural visit to the city where Eladio and I enjoyed visiting the Thyssen museum to see the Magritte exhibition and enjoy a day in Madrid. I didn't like leaving the house because of my father. There was a very obvious decline. He wasn't his usual self, had lost his appetite  and was reading less. That gave me sleepless nights. He used to love his food but now I was having to give him it in liquid form. His condition deteriorated and I just hated to watch it. He was given his booster and flu jab on Friday 5th and later I regretted that as the next day he had a temperature and was sick. He couldn't keep anything down and had to go to bed. My father always hated the idea of going to bed during the day so he must have felt very bad to do so. On Sunday 7th we called the emergency services who came to see him immediately. They prescribed anti sick tablets which helped. They said that if we could keep him at home he would be more comfortable. I was so glad to hear these words as the last thing I wanted to do was to have him admitted into hospital because of Covid as I wouldn't have been allowed to be with him. Monday 8th dawned and he was still ill yet  lucid when he was awake. It was a bank holiday in Madrid and as the day progressed I was more and more worried and so messaged his lovely GP, Dra. Martin who was on holiday. When I sent her a video of my father with his dreadful rattling breathing she confirmed what I feared; he was dying. Oh my God, the end was coming. I won't go into that as I have written about it extensively. But 8th November was one of the worst days of my life. I wonder how much my father realised what was going on. I also hope he didn't suffer. My father lived the last 16 years of his life with us and he has been a constant presence for all my life since I was born, more even than my mother. Thus I got very close to him, especially when I wrote his book. Now I was to be an orphan after losing my mother, my brother George and now him. 102 is a great old age but brought me no comfort. He was my father and I think about him every day of my life. 

It was shortly afterwards that our guest turned into a squatter and all that that entailed. I can never forgive him for interrupting the mourning of my father. On 19th November there was a showdown with him and now he is a threatening presence in our house coming and going as he pleases. Could the year get worse? Not really. 

Well, actually it did when the world discovered the new Covid variant, Omicron. You all know about it now and how it is infecting people much faster than any other variant. Even people who are triple vaccinated are getting it. My own dear friend, Kathy, got it on Christmas Day. My heart goes out to her and to those like her, at home in quarantine or worse, those in hospital. And this week too, my dear friend Julio tested positive as did his 88 year old mother. Since the start of the pandemic we have not known of one person in our circle or family with Covid. These are the first two cases which proves to me that Omicron spreads much faster.

This month, December, has been like going through hell where, to quote Churchill, you have to carry on. And carry on is what we have done and are doing but it is not easy. I got more bad news last month when it was discovered one meniscus was torn and the other had wear and tear. That has put a stop to my walks, so necessary both physically and mentally. December has been very uphill. Normally I love Christmas and go all out but this year, for the first time I have just gone through the motions. 

If November was my "horribilis mensis", 2021 was also my "horribilis annus". That was the expression used by the Queen in her Christmas message the year Windsor Castle went into flames. This year her speech was perhaps the most personal ever. She has not got over the death of her beloved Philip and, like me and many others who have suffered losses of their dear ones this year, felt his void enormously at Christmas. 

This year though wasn't all bad news. We had the joy of our grandchildren, Elliot and Juliet, such a bright light on our horizon. We had some lovely trips to our houses when we could get away and thank you thank you God, our little rental business did fine this year. I think we had a record number of reservations, the income from which should tide us over for a while now that cannot rely on my father's pension. He was never ever a burden, far from it. He was a joy to have and it was thanks to him we could keep up 24 care service. 

It was my father - not only Churchill - who taught me that whatever happens, you have to carry on so carry on I did this week as I intend to this year.

Sunday 26th December, was Boxing Day and we were to spend it alone for the first time ever probably. It was a quiet day and we ate leftovers for our meals - meal actually as I wasn't  able to eat any dinner for days after such copious lunches. Christmas is a killer of diets and mine which I started on 3rd  October has now been interrupted. My New Year's resolution this year is to return to the diet asap. Yes, Masha, you will. What are your New Year's resolutions? Do tell me. 

It was on Boxing Day that I got my third vaccine. I had an appointment at the nearest public hospital, "Puerta de Hierro" in the town with the funny name, "Majadahonda". Eladio drove me in the rain, bless him. The whole event went very smoothly. I had an early appointment so there weren't many queues. Mine was for the over 60's and there can't be many of us left to be administered a third vaccine. I saw when I arrived that we would be given the Moderna vaccine. All of us has been given the Astrazeneca which was only administered to some health staff and to those from 60 to 69 until it was removed from supplies. Oh good Moderna I thought, although I had wished for Pfizer. What I didn't realise was that the third jab of Moderna is only half a dose. Really? Why? Is this right I thought? I'm not sure. I read somewhere that it is just as efficient as a whole dose but that I doubt. Who the hell makes these rules? In any case, on paper, I am now officially triple vaccinated. 

Triple vaccinated

I got Eladio to get out of the car in the rain to take a photo of me with the certificate I had been given with proof of my third jab. I would have far preferred a photo of the moment of the jab but photos were not allowed inside for some silly reason.

It rained all day and our highlights were gorging on Christmas Eve dinner leftovers and watching films and series on the TV in the library lounge with the fire on. We hardly ever use our lounges but are doing so a lot this Christmas. I love it. We began watching a new series called The girl from Oslo - which was right up our street - a Norwegian girl gets kidnapped in Sinai near Israel by ISIS. It seems a bit old hat to American critics but not to us. 

On Boxing Day I didn't feel good. I had more pain in my joints and muscles. I wasn't sure whether this was because of the third vaccination or just my knee playing up. The next day, Monday 27th I felt far worse and I spent most of the day lying down. I managed a hearty lunch though - leftovers from our Christmas lunch. Oli joined us with Juliet as this week Miguel was working. It should have been me who picked up Elliot from day care at 4 that afternoon but I felt so lousy, Oli went instead, leaving Juliet to me. I was thrilled to see Elliot but wasn't up to much fun and games. Even so we had an enjoyable afternoon with our grandchildren. Eladio did too as you can see from the photo below.

Eladio with Elliot and Juliet on Tuesday

We were interrupted by our squatter as he came in through the main door which leads directly to the library lounge. When he comes he tries to avoid us but now that we are using that lounge he can't avoid contact. I'm not supposed to talk to him but can no longer hold my tongue. Thus I spat at him"you, here again". He didn't reply.  The only good thing is that he avoids us. He can no longer go down to the kitchen in the night as we put the alarm on. I chuckle to think he has to sleep in dirty sheets and use dirty towels as cleaning his room was not part of the rental agreement. He paid Lucy separately for that and since the showdown on 19th November she no longer cleans for him. Damn the man.

We finished The girl from Oslo that night and then went up to bed, locking our door with the key and putting the alarm on. I went to bed in pain and had to take a paracetamol. It must have worked as I slept rather well that night, despite "his" presence and woke up in far less pain.

Finally the rain disappeared on Tuesday and the sun came out. It was to be a grand day. I felt like some retail therapy so asked Eladio to join me in buying presents for Kings' Day. Off we went to the nearest shopping centre in Majadahonda. I wanted a black party dress although I don't really need one as I wasn't going to any parties. Even so, with the weight I had lost, I had the sudden urge to buy a pretty dress. We started off in Zara where I could see that emerald green is in fashion for the next season. I love green so tried on two coats. The shorter one looked good on me but I decided not to get it as I do not have any matching clothes nor do I need a new coat. We looked in Massimo Dutti, Mango and it was at H&M where I found a black dress but it wasn't really a party dress. I tried it on and loved it. But as it was oversize (hate oversize) I had to get an "s". That certainly cheered me up.

New jumper dress from H&M

It didn't cost Eladio much as I had a big discount on my H&M members card I didn't know about. Thus I indulged in another dress. I found the perfect "little black dress" at Cortefiel, a Spanish chain of fashion shops where I don't often shop. I was really looking for a black velvet dress, tunic style which I didn't find. But I did find a rather comfy looking simple black dress with an embroidered V neck which I thought would do. This is it. 

My new "little black dress"

It was Coco Chanel I think who said all women should have a "little black dress" in their wardrobe. She was right except that I could never afford any of her clothes. Cortefiel would have to do for me.

It was while we were having a coffee in one of the foyers at the shopping centre- well a coffee and a toasted croissant for me as this week I am not on a diet - that I spied a pink woolen dress which looked a bit like garment from Jaeger. It was at a shop Provenza (I think) that was closing down and it looked just like something I needed for my wardrobe. I do love woolen dresses. They can be both flattering and of course warm and comfy. I was in luck, it looked great on me and only cost 19 euros. That was my present to myself on that morning of retail therapy that did me the world of good.

Like the child I was when my mother used to buy me clothes at C&A in Bradford, I put it on as soon as I got home and I loved it. I had to have a selfie. This is it.

My new pink woolen dress bought on our shopping spree on Tuesday

I got Eladio to take a proper photo but by then I was wearing my blue slippers so it had to be photo without seeing them. 

Wearing my new pink woolen dress

There is nothing more satisfying for me than retail therapy when you find the perfect item of clothing and I suspect I shall be wearing this  pink jumper dress a lot, much more than the "little black dress".  

We had fish and chips for lunch that day which cheered me up too. Simple things are often those that make you feel happy don't you think? The simple act of picking up little Elliot from school that day and this week made me happy too. On Tuesday I took him home and spent time with him, Oli and little Juliet. He is such fun to be with. It was while I was at Oli's that I did my first antigen or lateral flow test as it is puzzlingly called in the UK.  After telling her my friend Julio had tested positive for Covid on Christmas Day she advised me to take one because we had seen him 3 days before that.  Antigen tests are hard to come by with so many infections ravaging the country but my daughter had three at home. I was to take the test for the first time since the pandemic began, now two years ago.  As I suspected, but I could have been wrong, it was negative. Thank goodness. 

My negative Covid test

For it to be positive there have to be two lines on the "T" for test. For it to be negative there has to be one line on the "C" (Control) my daughter explained. It was good to know.

I left at around 7 pm and came home to have some quiet time with Downton Abbey before dinner. That was the first time I had dinner in 4 days and maybe I should have skipped it as I was too tempted by the sweet and chocolate tray afterwards. In my absence "he who should not be mentioned" had returned, seen by Eladio in the lounge where he was enjoying the fire. He is now sleeping here every day which is very annoying. Ah, but we annoy him too in many little ways, mostly by putting the alarm on at night. But who wouldn't put it on with a squatter in your very own house?

We had dinner on trays in the library lounge while watching the dire news about Omicron. When will Covid no longer dominate the headlines I ask myself? We were in bed soon and finished watching Spanish Princess on HBO about the life of Catherine of Aragon. It ended when her marriage was annulled and Henry VIII married Anna Boleyn by breaking away from the Catholic Church. I wish the series had included her demise. In real life she was sent away from court and also denied seeing her only offspring, her daughter Mary. She remained in England, shunned by court and died there too. Thus she never had the satisfaction of seeing her daughter eventually becoming Mary 1st of England, Mary Tudor. She would have been happy to know her daughter married Philip of Spain and retained her loyalty to the Catholic church. 

I must have fallen asleep shortly afterwards. I actually slept well and didn't wake up until 7.20 on Wednesday morning. I did not go out in the morning nor did I join Eladio and Pippa on their walk. If only I could resume my walks. Instead I overate this week - mostly chocolates - and felt guilty. I did do something good though and that is sort our my knicker and bra drawer, all my leggings, casting aside the size 10s for Olivia which I will never get into again and also my winter scarves. I felt good after that. I also felt good picking up little again Elliot from school. He loves getting into "Ganma's car" and I love picking him up. We arrived at his house just as Oli and Juliet were back from lunch out - Oli is enjoying her free mornings while Elliot is at school and Miguel at work. She doesn't go back until April from when Miguel will take the rest of his paternity leave until September. That is so much better than our times when I only had 3 months and my husband 1 day. Just 1 day! Now, in Spain, although the maternity leave is not as long as in other countries, at least men now get the same time off after a baby is born. Elliot was delighted to see his mother and I captured the moment on my camera, as I do many moments in our life for this blog which I hope one day, Elliot and Juliet will read. Who knows?

Oli and Elliot reunited when I brought him back from school on Wednesday afternoon

I didn't stay long that afternoon as Miguel would be back soon. Thus I made my way home. It was then that I heard the latest news about Covid in Spain. Basically as so many people are getting it, many essential services are suffering because of staff getting Covid. Thus, following in the footsteps of other countries but not necessarily following scientific advice, that day Spain's PM announced that quarantine for those infected with Covid but with no symptoms would see the period reduced from 10 to 7 days. There is no rule on taking a test afterwards. This is probably because there is a huge shortage of them.  They are like gold dust. The other announcement was that those who are triple jabbed and come in contact with someone positive do not have to self isolate. That doesn't make sense to me as it is common knowledge that even if you are triple vaccinated you can still get infected and be contagious. I think governments are trying to balance three factors, reducing admissions to hospital (don't see how with this measure), keeping mental health in check and probably most important for them keeping the economy going. That day saw the US record the highest ever number of infections in one day - over 500k I think. France was the worst hit country in Europe with over 200k and the UK and Spain had insanely high numbers too. All this with New Year's Eve coming. In Spain many regions had ordered curfew at night but not the Madrid area where the annual gathering of revelers went to the Puerta del Sol to celebrate. This is where the clock is located that all Spaniards watch at midnight on New Year's Eve. The only concession was the limit put on the number of people allowed in Spain's most famous square - 7k as apposed to the usual 18k. Miguel, Oli's partner was there but not to revel. He was one of the cameramen broadcasting the chimes at midnight.  I was proud of my "son-in-law" but don't like the fact that he would be in the middle of danger. At least though, was  outside. 

We watched the news by the fire in the library lounge while having our dinner. That seems to be our new routine, one I love. Maybe we will continue with it in the New Year. I slept so so that night but once again woke up after 7.

Thursday would be another highlight of the week. There would be more retail therapy when Oli and I went out to get the last Kings' Day presents. To top that we would have lunch out together - what fun. We spent most of the day together and with Juliet who was so well behaved we often forgot she was even there. Our first stop was Centro Oeste shopping centre where we also had a coffee and croissant - Oli had pain au chocolat called a "Napolitana" here. Apart from presents we did the food shopping for the main ingredients for our New Year's celebrations - red clams and roast beef and at what prices. My God prices have gone up. We are being told inflation is rising and we witnessed it ourselves. From there we drove to another big plaza shopping mall - Gran Plaza 2 where we did the rest of our shopping or rather returning unwanted Christmas presents - that is always Oli. I often wonder why I bother. It would be much better to give her a gift voucher hahahaha. The biggest treat of the day was lunch together. I fancied Chinese. Now isn't that funny as it's not my favourite food but I do like it once in a while. We went to a place called "You" of all names which my dear departed friend Fátima used to love. I loved it. Oli didn't as much. I went for the Thai menu and she went for the Japanese menu - mostly sushi (I am no fan of sushi or raw food I'm afraid).  Here is Oli at lunch as I had to have another photo to illustrate this week's tales.

Oli at "You" where we had lunch on Thursday

We had quite a late lunch and had to hurry just a bit to be on time to pick up Elliot from day care at 4pm. He was delighted to see both his mother and his grandmother. I love picking him up. I just love the big smile on his face and how he comes running enthusiastically into our arms. We took him home - getting everything out of the car and up to the flat was quite an ordeal but we managed.

We could wind down then. Elliot is happy to play on his own in between watching his favourite cartoons - Fireman Sam, Spirit, Peppa Pig, Paw Patrol, etc. Soon after we were back, the girls' friend Elenita or "Ele" and her dog Nana arrived. Thus I was relived of grandmother duty early that day except that I had no car as Oli had picked me up at home. I got Eladio to come and get me and spent the rest of the afternoon/evening relaxing and enjoying Downton Abbey. Dinner was once again on a tray by the fire and again we were interrupted by our damned squatter. He is now sleeping here every day and I can't stand the sight of him. A friend, Joanne, indignant with what we are being subjected to sent me an article about squatters in Spain. You can read it here. Although it applies only to squatters who take over a whole house, generally an empty one, the same rules apply to a squatter in a room in the house you live. I chatted to a friend that day who, believe it or not, had bought a book at a second hand market by the famous Spanish author now dead, Camilo José Cela. This book was signed by the author and dedicated to my squatter's father. How on earth that book ended up in a street market is a mystery. 

An extraordinary story. 

My squatter's father was a child of war, sent to Russia aged 4 when the Civil War broke out in Spain. He became the author of what is described as the definitive Spanish Russian dictionary. His name is G (Guénrij in Russian but Enrique in Spanish) Turover. No doubt, he would be ashamed at his son's behaviour. El País writes his son did not have a good relationship with his father. That figures doesn't it? 

We ignored him the best we could and carried on watching the TV - nothing interesting that night. I slept quite well again, despite, our squatter ("okupa" in Spanish) and was up at 6.45 that morning. On Thursday evening we had heard my husband's mother, aged 99, had fallen ill but not with Covid and I wondered how she had spent the night at her care home poor woman. She is seriously ill and we are expecting the worst at any minute. But because she is in a care home, it's almost impossible to visit. Damn Covid!

Friday 31st was the last day of the year. This is significant in itself but our New Years' Eve was not going to be particularly so I'm afraid. I've never been a fan of the last night of the year. I think my expectations have never really been fulfilled and I have ended up realising it's much better to have a quiet dinner and keep it "en famille".  We would be joined just by Oli and the grandchildren and I wondered how on earth we would be able to stay awake until midnight. This year my father was missing as was Suzy. And of course we were missing both Elsa and Norah. We would have liked not to have our squatter in the house but he came in the end in the evening around 19h and then never left his room. It makes me think no one wants him. How lonely for him but he has brought it upon himself. I wonder if he has a conscience. He must have as he tries to avoid us. I just wish we could see him finally go.

It was a beautiful sunny day. In fact it was lovely all around Spain. Unbelievably in the north the temperature shot up to 25c in Bilbao. In the village El Cuetu where we have our house in Asturias it was 22c. I felt happy for our guests arriving that night but just hoped they would behave themselves. They probably would as they were 3 couples in their late and early 40s. 

Although I had everything planned for our New Year's Dinner and lunch the next day, we still had to go out and do some last minute shopping. It was rather nice to be out and we went to have a coffee at a new place next to Alverán. That's because I fancied a "porra" - thick type of churro - which I enjoyed with my coffee. Lunch was a minor affair as we didn't want anything heavy, reserving our appetites for the night.

I had put in the pastry to bake during lunch as the base for a French tart. Ah, but it was bought puff pastry and boy did it grow. It grew so much I decided to try my hand at a "mille-fueille" and voilá, this was what came out. I didn't know what it would taste like, especially as we would eat it the next day and it might have become soggy (PD: it tasted divine). The filling was whipped cream, bilberry jam, raspberries and bilberries. The icing was made with raspberries and you can see the topping. It rather resembled a tart my mother used to make which my father adored. They called it "the slice" for some reason. 

My attempt at mille-feuille

When Oli arrived with her little children, the fire was lit and all the Christmas lights were on. While I laid our table as beautifully as I know how with all the finest china and glass ware, Elliot entertained himself with the new car racing circuit he got for Christmas. Juliet, bless her, behaved as an angel as is nearly always the case.

I put the finishing touches to the menu for our dinner: croquettes, prawn cocktail (again) and clams in seafood sauce (again) followed by a dessert made with meringue, mangoes and Haagen Dazs macadamia ice cream (Oli's favourite) and then we all had a drink. Rather, Oli and I had a small glass of wine. Eladio doesn't drink apart from at meals and then only on occasion. He's so moderate in that way  and no doubt that is why he is in such good health. 

When all was ready this is what our table looked like. I have friends who post the most amazing photos of tables for their Christmas meals. Some enter competitions. Mine would never win anything but I do my best. I hope my grandmother would be proud of me. 

Our table on NYE

And here we are before we sat down to our delicious meal on the last night of the year. 

A selfie at dinner on NYE 

Elliot wanted to pull the crackers at the beginning of the meal but had to be told that he had to wait till the end. He wasn't happy but he is only 2 and can't always get his way. He needs to have boundaries poor mite. Cracker time finally came and he was a happy bunny although he doesn't like posing for photos.  That's the photo I have chosen as this week's feature photo. I could have been in it too I suppose but I don't take good selfies. 

There was no Lucy or Zena, my father's carers, this year so we had to clear everything away ourselves and do the washing up. But, I wasn't complaining. It's not difficult with so few diners. 

We convened to the library lounge with the fire on and it was obvious Elliot was very very tired as he hadn't had a nap that day. Oli and family were staying the night so I offered to take up my grandson and try to put him to bed and fall asleep. I had the help of "Fireman Sam" on Netflix to help. He wouldn't have it any other way. It took me half an hour until the tot finally closed his eyes.

By then it was nearly midnight and time in Spain, at least, to eat one grape on every chime of the clock at midnight, watching the big clock in Madrid at the famous square called "Puerta del Sol".  Miguel, Ol's partner, was working there with TVE so would have seen everything live. I have never been there on NYE as I hate crowds. Besides with Covid so virulent it seems crazy to do so.  I had bought pip free grapes, 12 for each of us which I can never eat on each chime. They are supposed to bring luck for the New Year. I hope they do. In the UK everyone joins hands or arms and sings Auld Lang Syne. In Spain, after the clock has struck midnight, people hug and kiss and drink champagne. We are not great champagne lovers so didn't bother. It would have  a bit silly too as Oli and I were in our pyjamas by then.

A new tradition around where we live  are firework displays and wow what a noise. I was worried Elliot would be woken up. But I should have been more worried about Pippa, our little dachshund who was terrified. She slept with us under the sheets of our bed that night to feel safer.

I woke up at 8 on the first day of the year, quite late for me but then I had been up till past 1 in the morning. The next item on the festive agenda would be New Year's Day breakfast. 

Like all the other festive days at Christmas, we do a New Year's Day breakfast too. This year we went to get churros, porras and hot chocolate - a favourite with Spaniards after a night or reveling (or not in our case). This is what our table looked like. 

Our breakfast table yesterday, 1st January

Facebook reminded me of our breakfast a year ago that day when my father was still with us. We had roscón that day. Oh how my father loved the Christmas celebrations and oh how I have missed him this year. Here he is with Oli a year ago. 

Last year's New Year's Day breakfast - my father smiling with Olivia and looking forward to all the whipped cream in the "roscón"

Yesterday Miguel's mother Merche and his brother Alberto were coming for lunch and it had to be special too as it was New Year's Day. I spent most of the morning working on the perfect roast beef with Yorkshire pudding and all the trimmings. This is what our table looked like.

Roast beef and Yorkishire pudding for our New Year's Day lunch yesterday

I would have loved to see the New Year Concert from Vienna. In between turning the roast or stirring the gravy I went into the library lounge to watch a bit where Eladio had the fire on while little Juliet slept.  My father always watched it as many many people do around the world. It is my dream to go one day go in person. Wouldn't that be lovely? 

The New Year concert and Juliet sleeping

It was a family day and not too quiet of course but we all enjoyed it. I have to say that both New Year's Eve and New Year's Day were both much more enjoyable than I had expected. Our guests left at around 7pm and we then had the house to ourselves until "he who should not be mentioned" arrived - damn the man. We watched a bit of Downton Abbey - it helps to relax me and transports me to another world, Yorkshire in the 1920's (love it) - until it was time for the news. There was nothing new to learn really. Eladio had  a bowl of soup and I had a leftover mandarin Elliot had not eaten.  I should not have had the chocolates and sweets afterwards but I keep telling myself that it's Christmas and all is allowed. I am duping myself as there will be at least 2 kilos to shed on 7th January hahahaha.

Today is Sunday 2nd January and we are on our own (if you don't include our squatter) and the day is ours to enjoy. It is sunny outside but clouds could loom if we get bad news from León where Eladio's mother lives. She is very ill and we have to be prepared for the worst. Oh dear, not a nice way to begin 2022 is it? 

But let me not finish on a negative note. Let me, instead, wish you all a very Happy New Year. May 2022 bring you happiness and joy and good times and if you are a believer, may The Lord bless you.

Until next Sunday, with all good wishes,

Masha.