Christmas in the windy Edinburgh started with roast chicken, parsnip, and carrots deservingly. We messaged the chicken with olive, salt, black pepper, and stubbed it with rosemary and thyme. She & Him Christmas album for soundtrack. Dessert was a selection of assorted mint chocolate and baileys chocolate in red and green boxes. Nomad travelers brought them for gift in exchange for shelters. Chocolaty palate then washed down with mulled wine, Sunkist oranges, cinnamon stalks, star anises, sugar, apple cider, and other spices drenched and boiled in red wine. The best flavor of course the drips you got when you squeeze the boiled, swelled, drenched oranges after the last sip of mulled wine in the pot. This was a recipe to anxiety since wine will lull you instead of waking you up for midnight mass. That called for coffee. The Sumatran coffee package was just an inch away but I thought 30-minute power nap was enough for Christmas mass prep. I tended to fall asleep in masses. The night went away and Christmas morning arose with pink ribbon-tied package in front of my door, with ear-muffs inside. Nice surprise. Lunch was chicken leftovers stir-fried with rice with the girls. The road was silent and serene, like I am Legend scene. End of December was always dreary, weary.