After a month and a day, I am finally ready to talk about it. Not the easiest Christmas I have ever had, although in some ways it was. Dinner was no more than a big Sunday roast without all the usual faff. Everything was gorgeous, apart from the gravy, which I had to throw away and start all again because it was too salty (next year I must remember not to use the juices of a brined bird!). Only three of us made it to the table for dinner, as H and L were both isolating in their bedrooms, due to Track and Trace, and I had to leave their meals on the floor outside their doors. From the photo, it may look like they had McDonalds, but it was the picky eaters' starters option - mozzarella sticks. The ham joint had too many cloves (I should really write a list of pitfalls to avoid for next year) but the chilli jam and pickled onions we made were the perfect partners to the massive cheeseboard. We drank tons of Baileys, Bucks Fizz, sloe gin (which was much nicer this year and well worth the scratches) and amaretto. I made a chocolate orange cheesecake and some Eaton Mess, but both ended up in the bin after a couple of days as nobody was really in the mood; too full of crisps and chocolates. And I still haven't remembered where I hid the Christmas pudding, although nobody mourned its loss.
Masks were worn for the opening of presents, which did not take place around the tree this year, but at opposite ends of the upstairs landing. A sad old business. The kids didn't think it was worth even wrapping the presents they had bought for each other and were very grumpy when I insisted that they must. T protested in her usual left-field style by writing labels designed to offend - such as the one to Mr C in the photo above.
I watched all the films I had planned to see, which never happens on a normal Christmas; usually too busy cooking, tidying, refereeing or washing up, and I can never hear anything above the shouting and arguing. I sat on the sofa and watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, The Sound of Music, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, all of the Wallace and Gromits, both Nanny McPhee (which I truly love) and Paddington 1 and 2 (ditto). In many ways it felt more like a Christmas from my childhood, with minimal fuss and nonsense. It was hard missing out on the usual traditions, spending time with our family and friends, but it was as good as it could have been.
We were very sad to have missed Otto's first Christmas, but we spent time with him on Christmas morning on FaceTime, and watched as his presents were opened. The Christmas Tree came down on 28th, the needles still on, but missing a branch here and there. The house looks too bare and I am missing the twinkly lights, the colour and sparkle.
We were fortunate in that both detainees remained well and neither had picked up Covid. . L finished her isolation on 27th, celebrating with a trip around the local villages, riding pillion on Mr C's scooter, and was very relieved that she was able to celebrate her birthday at the end of the month. She decided against the cocktail party we were all hoping for, and plumped instead for spaghetti carbonara and a game of TaskMaster. I was very disappointed as nobody tried very hard, and the game ended quickly with everyone in a bad mood. I look forward to playing it properly one day with my friends. I think it could be a really funny game to play. Just not with this crowd!
We ventured out for a few walks, down to the village and to Bradlaugh Fields, now a nature reserve close to where we grew up. Mr C strolled through the bushes declaring 'I know these fields like the back of my hand', just as he walked into a head height length of barbed wire. Fortunately he was walking slowly (still troubled by bad knees) and it did not break the skin. It could have been much worse, had I not done those pelvic floor exercises.
Mr C and I have both decided to capitalise on the third Lockdown by climbing back on the wagon and losing all the weight we have gained during the first and second. As we have hardly ventured out in almost a year, we are hopeful that when we emerge sylph like and healthy, nobody ever need know about us eating like pigs for all those months. This time last year, I had lost almost five stone, and was managing to maintain the loss reasonably well until the. kids came home for the first Lockdown, and I started to eat their food. It was definitely their fault!! It was easier when it was just three of us, because I only bought healthy food, and anything unhealthy was hidden away on top of L's wardrobe, out of sight of mind. Now the two biguns are home, I have to buy cereal and crisps and bread just to fill them up. So far, so good and we have both lost almost a stone since we began on New Year's Day.
T has embarked on Veganuary with great gusto, and is further complicating life as a result. When they were little, I always insisted that I would never bow to fussy eating, and that everyone would all eat the same meal, or go without. It was much easier then, but now I am challenged daily. Mr C and I are on Slimming World, eating low fat, low sugar, lots of fruit and veggies and proteins with limited carbs. Then there is T, the vegan who is mainly eating vegan sausage rolls and chai latte with soya milk. H is an omnivore, but won't eat meat with as much as a sniff of fat on it, or anything containing onions, mushrooms or any spice, and is not keen on most vegetables or fruit. And L is a veggie version of her brother, in that she will eat very little with lumps or flavour, with a few exceptions, those being smoked salmon pate, any processed pork products especially pepperami and bacon. So unless I want to eat mashed potato with ketchup or quorn spaghetti bolognese made with tomato puree and no seasoning, I am forced to produce a full menu with vegan and vegetarian options daily. The one thing that they all like to eat is vegan banana bread, and they are finally united by frequent baking sessions. One little ray of sunshine in an otherwise miserable January kitchen.
The dogs have been shivering as their Christmas jumpers have been washed and stored away, so I decided to crochet them new non-Christmas jumpers. An internet trawl produced this little gem:
It's a really easy to follow pattern, which can be adjusted for different sized dogs. I made one for Polly first, and was so pleased with the results. L says that she looks like a New York Writer who lives in a loft apartment, maybe because the jumper has a turtle neck. I went a bit rogue with the second jumper for Paddy, my white dog, and his jumper is less fitted and more like a puffball poncho, with an 80's vibe. He likes to be different.
I am back in my writing den, and cracking on with my next book. I have been slightly distracted (it doesn't take much) as a result of reconnecting with some old friends, but I will tell you all about it in my next blog. I will leave you for now with some snowy photographs taken on Monday on a quick walk around Moulton in the sunshine and snow with Polly the Cockapoo. Stay safe everyone, and Happy New Year to you all.
