I really must get a better camera or take more time with the photos I go for. This was a disappointing crop.
Well, that’s another one ticked off. Quite successfully too. The fourteen disparate personalities gelled happily on Christmas day and the cooking team (chiefly me and granddad) worked like house elves to provide the feast all hot and at the right moment. Bad cracker jokes, silly hats, nice wines for each course and (though I say it myself) an excellent pudding. Spillage on carpet, a few tears from over-tired sprogs, much good will amongst adults and parting kisses from me which unfortunately spread the cold I didn’t know I had coming on.
So that’s the main traditions observed. I felt a bit sorry for B who is used to going to church in the morning, singing along with carols from Kings College whilst cooking the lunch, then watching the Queen’s speech in the afternoon. None of which we have done for longer than I can remember.
The weather was so brilliant Boxing Day some of us had a walk around the bay in the sunshine, saying hello to scores of smiley strangers also happy to be taking the air in the knowledge that the shops where closed. (I suppose there were sales somewhere but we don’t talk about that.) The snow-capped peaks of mountains in the background reminded us that the son and biggest grandson were ski-ing in the Cairngorms where the conditions were excellent (which doesn’t happen so often in Scotland; the day after that there were gales and the runs were closed.) Sanders was able to try his new ski boots, one of which was really comfortable and the other would have been if he had realised what was hurting and removed the headphones from the toe. He’s good at driving through the pain barrier that lad.
The smaller boys got Furbies from their aunt and me. These creatures are just as amusing for adults as children. On Christmas Eve when the parents woke them into life I began to wonder if their sons would get given them at all. These beasties learn English gradually, which is a pity as I suspect some of their vocabulary is going to be a bit rude. They also talk to each other; this made bedtime for their new owners quite difficult. It was a happy change to hear the 6 year old and the 4 year old human child complaining because their pets were talking and keeping them awake. That’s karma boys.
The Cornish wreckers left yesterday and got back safely 12 hours later, leaving me to my own bed (hooray) and a house that looks superficially back to normal. Interesting anomalies that have turned up so far: an apple in the airing cupboard (partially eaten,) a light sabre in a potted plant; lego in the fridge; chocolate Santas down the back of chairs; some really juicy smears on the French windows and the mirrored cupboard doors in the bedrooms; a few undergarments that might be missed.
So, not quite back to normal. I just took a long and refreshing bath, followed by a shower to get every possible centimetre of me wet, only to reach for a towel and remember they were all being washed. It isn't the same drying on a cotton nightie.
1 comment:
sounds a job well done. We watched Queenie as the "old" people wanted to. I shall have to google those Furbie things as have no idea what they are. g'son coming in Spring so I may have to save up for that as well.
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