So the road to hell was empty but hell itself was jam packed and had a name, last minute panic buyers.

With Mrs Fogg having to work I ventured to the hell that is a mall. People rushing, pushing and jostling for the last minute bargains. There is no peace on earth and good will to all men here, just fight for what you want!

And all through the house.

Oh yes it’s Christmas Eve, a few little traditions such as watching the annual NORAD Santa deliver presents around the globe and reading the night before Christmas.

But after all this is only our Christmas number one, with the newly created tradition of celebrating Christmas number 2 in March, poor ole Santa has to do it all again for the Foggy’s and the Fink’s.

So it’ll be an early rise tomorrow am, as the little kid gets his chance to come out.

Can’t wait.

Almost made it to the end of the week and a few steps closer to Christmas. Last night we went for a meal with the folks and the waiter obviously thought that Mrs Folky was too hot, so tipped the contents of her wine over her. So after leaving the restaurant all you could smell was the wino as she walked to the car, well she can always suck it out of her clothes if she needs a drink.

And today the local sandwich company delivered a turkey meal in a polystyrene pot to the office, yum yum.

Chrimas supermarket shop done (1hr in and out before anyone else arrived), nervous turkey ordered and meat ready to collect on 23 Dec.

So 5 days left to work, almost there and then its time to stuff ourselves (and the turkey) silly.

And as a pre Chrimbo treat we are off to see the Hobbit on 23 as well.

Simply one of the best feel good Christmas movies of all time was playing at our art house cinema, so we had to go see it. Frank Capra’s classic movie from 66 years ago, it’s a wonderful life is still timeless and wonderful.

A glass of wine and mince pies were also included in the hefty £4 charge.

A wonderful movie and a wonderful evening.

Ah, a wonderfully tiring weekend in Paris where Mrs Foggy has walked my feet off. On the last day we have walked what can only be described as the grottiest area in the world with literally hundreds of men just stood watching you walk down dark alleys.

Still we managed to get a glass of cheap plonk to celebrate before catching the train and then plane back home.

Here’s to Christmas and year 9.

More like Sacre Bleur, 100 steps to the church and then 300 to the dome, but with views of all Paris. Cold and breathtaking.

Time for more vin Chaud.