Familiar ground

I didn't feel half as bad as I expected when I woke up.

Once the whole family was gathered together, Dad handed the presents out from under the tree and when we’d each got our piles assembled we tore into them. . . . Half an hour later and the front room was strewn with the wreckage of paper, presents and people. I got a book on Dada & Surrealism, a bag, several packs of rulers, crayons etc. from Mum and Dad, a record (Elvin Jones Jazz Machine's Remembrance) from Andrew, an Athletic scarf off Rob and Carol and a record case from Nanna P.  Everyone else seemed quite pleased with what they’d got.

I enjoyed Christmas dinner and we spent the rest of the day lethargically eating, watching TV and playing dominoes. Dad went up to see Nanna B. around dinnertime and found her all alone and in tears. She'd declined Uncle Arnold’s invitation to go to their house. She said she didn't have any presents to give and felt guilty and miserable.

Later I watched Kurosawa’s brilliant 1975 film, Dersu Uzala (I’d agitated about it for weeks), and it got a good reception . Later on still I talked with Andrew about music, friends, etc., and I felt optimistic.