We’ve been down to the beach today, for what I hope, in the fullness of time, will be our Christmas day tradition of walking on Crantock beach. Today’s trip has been a great joy, despite rather dull weather, not least because of DMs insane shorts wearing behaviour.

The tradition (Christmas Day or indeed any other day when we find ourselves on Crantock’s golden sands) is that you have to walk from the dunes, down to the shoreline and then to the furthest point where you can touch the rocks as the sea meets the sand on the opposite side of the bay.

Today the tide was out so we had a really long walk, both in the first instance as far as the shoreline (well out beyond the Gannel’s rock pathway for those who know this beach) then to the far end of the beach.

Once there, we opened the newly acquired flask from Trago and supped hot, milky coffee while Archie chased seagulls and Rosie charged around after her tennis ball. The score today was Crantock 2-Rosie 0 – she lost both of them. I don’t worry about stray tennis balls though because I know that probably already another dog is enjoying them. Over the years, we’ve found a few toys on the beach – last Christmas day a squeaky red plastic Christmas pud that was probably only opened by the doggie that received it a few hours earlier!

Rosie and Archie do, of course, get pressies for Christmas, though I ban squeaky ones. DM chose them with love and care while I was away earlier this week – a bungee rope with tennis balls threaded onto it for the Roguester (she would NEVER choose another toy ahead of a tennis ball) and a knotted tug rope for the Archduke. I was mortified that less than five minutes after receipt of these toys, Rosie had eaten through the bungee and ‘liberated’ the tennis balls then dumped the whole lot and stolen Archie’s raggy. Poor Arch – Rosie was running around looking like the cat that had got the cream, shaking his toy while he looked on bemused!

These gulls and rooks were startled or terrified, depending on how you look at it (and let’s face it, who wouldn’t be) by DM charging towards them waving his £1.99 Woolies purple tennis racquet, clad in shorts, socks and boots, several jumpers and his Spurs Lucky Hat. Now I think I might have even been startled, had I not been facing the other way!

So far, so good for this Christmas Day – lovely pressies from both DM and my folks, a fabulous trip to the beach, followed by cheese and crackers for a late lunch.

Now all I have to do is work out what on earth we’re going to have for our Christmas Dinner – it’s now 4.45pm and I have absolutely no idea other than that it will have roasties and veggies and onion gravy – it’s what’s in the middle of the plate I’m stuck on. I reckon we’ll be eating at about nine pm at this rate.

The Roguester was last year's subject - a face full of sand and a heart full of love.