He was quite emotional when we got to our local postbox. He says he's starting to worry a bit about how close we're getting to the festive period with its increased pressure on postal deliveries. He's such a lovely bloke - just wants to make sure that everyone can be as jolly as him.
We were delivering our present by hand, so we walked on across the main road, down the street where we used to live (The Land of the Tearful Strawberries, where this little blog sprouted first), and over the hidden bridge to D's house. He was very pleased to meet Jolly. So pleased that he bravely stood on the cold, November ground in his bare feet. Jolly couldn't believe it.
Neither of us could believe the vertical rainbow we saw when we got back to our corner. We might have gone off in search of the crock of gold at its end, which was probably more or less where we had our loughshore walk yesterday, but Jolly had to get ready for his meal out with Grainne.
I picked him up in town afterwards and we took the long way home, past the Titanic Centre. I thought that Jolly was speechless at its impressive scale. The four wings of the building are designed to be exactly the size of Titanic's prow but also to look like an iceberg. Then I wondered was he speechless at my lack of tact. You probably don't want to be reminded of that horrendous night when you're about to cross the Atlantic yourself. Sorry, Jolly.
We promise to introduce you to Niamh, Aoife and Grainne tomorrow...