It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

... in Russell T Davies land, at least. As Doctor Who continues to dumb down for the growing American audience I find myself cheering when the next cliche arrives rather than dreading them - the only alternative being to turn it off in disgust. The programme has become so tongue in cheek that it's no wonder Tennant spends all his time snogging the help these days - they're probably just going for a platonic peck. [Pause for audience groaning]

After being up late playing with food and playing pointless games, I woke up amazingly early soon after 9am. Looked out the window to see a delightful not-quite-white-but-at-least-it's-cold morning. Ahhhh. After 2 Prison Breaks worth of chopping and mixing stuffing this morning I went on strike in anticipation of the imminent arrival of Stephen's Family. Three hours of Overlord later they arrive, in a flurry of iPod Touches and Christmassey food which I had already chopped. Hm. So they set down to making Carrot and Coriander soup (which would lead to an amusing story of trying to make it taste of something in the absence of gluten-free stock cubes, but I shan't go into that now) and, pausing only to stuff the turkey and tamper with it generally, I went back to Overlord. Then there was the jolly three sets of potatoes to roast (we went for two in the end) and the little baguettes and then Lewis (Stephen's little brother who had, up to about four o'clock been amusing himself mostly with his new iPod) decides that he's hungry and annoying. Don't get me wrong, he's always annoying, but if you give him just the right amount of technology he shuts up for a while. Enter the soup. Enter the Main Course: turkey crown with stuffing (hand-mixed from cranberries, walnuts, gluten-free stuffing mix and the last darned pot of gluten-free sausage mean in the country), surrounded with small onions and pink cava (don't ask); fluffy roast potatoes without skin and crunchy ones with skin; sprouts, broccoli, carrot and swede mash; pigs in blankets drenched in garlic and a pair or gravies, one for me made from the meaty juices and one for the Blythes from a microwaveable packet from Tesco. And then Lewis barely touched his dinner. But kept asking for dessert. Children! He was eventually placated with a Chocolate Bombe, because I bought the wrong chestnut puree. Time well spent helping Stephen with his shiny new espresso machine, watching Dr Who and the Inevitable Question of Why They Cast Kylie In That Role. Trying to watch To The Manor (re)Born but with no joy... I think Christmas is over for this year. Except for all of the leftover presents to arrive and distribute. And some for me (woo!) perhaps.