It has been virtually a rerun of last year, almost to the worshipper - well, a different mixture of them, but amounting to the same numbers. The three mini-crib services on Christmas Eve, the curtailed midnight, 8am and 10am, took place without incident, and without a great many souls there either. But this year we have the added cruelty that Boxing Day is a Sunday. Who will turn up tomorrow to listen to my further attempts to squeeze some vaguely interesting thoughts out of the readings, I can't imagine. It has been wet and grey: I had to turn the lights on in the middle of the afternoon, and I don't mean the Christmas Tree lights. But we have survived (one more daily Lateral Flow Test to go and then I'll revert to twice-weekly again) and next year must surely be an improvement. Mustn't it?
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