Noel 2015.

After some deliberation I have decided to postpone Christmas Day to Boxing Day. The day on which Stephen got stoned, which he frequently did, in my experience. Although he is dead now, due to getting stoned once too often. May his very unsaintly soul rest in pieces.

However, I digress. The reason for the postponement is because my friend David is coming to dinner on Boxing Day. Not St. David, as some might suppose. Just David, although my David is never just “just”. He is much too amusing for just that.

As it happens, this will be the first time in twenty odd years that I will cook Christmas Dinner for anyone, although I always cook far beyond what I need. And then have to eat it for days after. Or the dog gets it. Which ever dog happens to be in residence at the time. No dog of mine has ever lived for twenty years. One of them once made it to seventeen, which I promise you was a miracle. Another Afghan amongst the several of those. Not to forget Hamlet or Romulus. They both lived longer than might have been expected.

So as you can imagine, I am really looking forward to this. I am going the whole hog. Not actually a Hog. My oven isn’t big enough. But all the other absolutely ordinary stuff, including Chestnuts which I collected and bottled myself. And Bloody Mary’s. Let’s hope I don’t drink too many of those in wild anticipation before the actual event.

I have made a Christmas Cake which isn’t the whole shilling because I cut a corner by melting the butter and sugar instead of beating it, because my hands aren’t all that good anymore. Arthritis brought on by too much pruning of the bloody Wisterias, coupled by carpal tunnel from same. But it tastes alright, probably due the half a bottle of Brandy that got poured all over it. So it might be a bit more like Christmas Pudding. But that’s okay. It can double up.
And Yes, I did drink the other half.

Anyhow, the fire is laid in my big open fireplace, mainly from the prunings from my Bay Tree and the Camillia, more carpal tunnel, but it’s all good burning wood. Nothing much gets wasted around here.
I do so wish all of my three followers a Very Happy Christmas. Your support is appreciated. And there wouldn’t be much point in Blogging to no one. Although I would probably do it anyway.

Charlotte, the demented Pug, says Happy New Year. She knows that something is going on because she has had a lot of bowls to lick lately. She liked the Christmas Cake one the best. The Brandy, I expect. Almost certainly not good for her, but even she is living longer than I expected. Pug Dementia is always more distressing for the owner than for the dog. So here’s to next Christmas for her.. She isn’t at all what I expected when I rescued her, but she is a brave little soul.

Sorry. I forgot about this Blog in the excitement of it all, but it is much more about The Winter Solstice for me. The days of long ago yore when survival was all. I can actually relate to that.
But it has tipped over now and the evenings are getting lighter. En Y Var for Spring.

6 Responses to “Noel 2015.”

  1. Roobeedoo2 Says:

    Happy New Year to you and Charlotte, Elena from me and Mrs Poopsalot

  2. And Clicky Says:

  3. elenamitchell Says:

    Ha! Mrs. Poopsalot. Yours or mine. Why do I always have dogs who poop more than they eat?

  4. TheLastFurlong (@LastFurlongNow) Says:

    Oh – I have chuckled! Lovely post. I WISH you would blog more – you only get followers if you actually write something. My best wish for this year is that I can read more of your humour. I’m sharing this on my Twitter site. Thank you for the delight.

    • elenamitchell Says:

      Well, that is kind. Sharing, I mean. Yes, you are right. I must make more of an effort. But it’s the age old lack of confidence thingy again. What can I possibly have to say that would interest anyone? And in the depths of Winter.

      I have just bought a new Slow Cooker from Amazon. But more to the point I was feeling sad about dumping the old one. Twenty years it has lasted, and still working, albeit a bit battered.
      And then David said he would like it. So it has gone to a good home. How daft is that?

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