It was our Christmas day today. Lots of festive cheer and turkey, trimmings and cake. And, yes, my cake turned out pretty well, given I had to make a few ingredient substitutions. As did the gingerbread house which underwent a bit of extreme demolition action.
Actually, Mirinda took Nicoline and KSP a piece of the cake today and Nicoline pronounced it perfect to have immediately after gym. I think that’s a good thing. Sometimes Nicoline can be a bit hard to judge in terms of humour and seriousness.
For instance, late on, I had a text from Nicoline regarding a play we’re going to see next July. She concluded her text with: “So answer yes with a gust of wind, and I’ll book.” To be fair it’s a Google Translate version of her Swedish so it may not be entirely accurate. Mirinda suggested it might be a Swedish idiom like there being no cows on the ice. Who knows. What I do know is it made us all laugh.
What also made me laugh was the house destruction celebration committee photograph.
As you can see, the house is no longer standing. I think the witch has moved on. Though the graves are still there.
Anyway, I woke this morning feeling a lot better (this was actually not absolutely true, I was to discover later) and set to starting Christmas Day lunch. Mirinda went off to gym class while I started mauling Trevor, rubbing him all over with butter and throwing a blanket of bacon over his bare and vulnerable breast.
Having shoved a load of pre-made stuffing up him, I made him a tent and put him in a very hot oven for a bit before making things a little less warm for a much longer time.
That may all sound a bit suspect but, no, the house was soon filled with the unmistakable smells of turkey, à la St Delia.
Mirinda made it home through the ice, snow and crazy drivers and she and Denise had a coffee/tea while watching the snow in the front garden. They couldn’t see the work I’d already achieved in the front of the driveway, which I’d managed to clear earlier so Mirinda could actually drive out.
The pair of them then took off for a reasonably timed walk where they met a local to swap phone numbers with, while I made sure the food would be ready for their return. It reminded me of the story mum used to tell about how all the men would go to the pub on Christmas Day while the womenfolk made the food. I’m sure they felt the same as me: It’s excellent not having the non-cooks under foot.
And so, the table was laid, and we all enjoyed a delicious, traditional, Boxing Day Christmas Day lunch.
Of course, being Boxing Day, we had the traditional reading of the Posts of Christmas Past, which Denise had to suffer through. Then we watched another non-Christmas movie (Rebel Moon) which was like an adult Star Wars film.
