Monday, December 21, 2009
I love Christmas, especially the few days just before The Big Day when 'Christmas is all around me' in the words of Bill Nighy from Love Actually. ( which I watched the other night and enjoyed far more than the first outing when I rather unfairly dismissed it as movie conveyor belt tosh! )
Here's an amusing excerpt from a letter my daughter wrote to Santa this morning:
'Do you ever receive Christmas presents ?
I hope you get presents. If I have time, I'll leave out wine too. I send all my love to you' xxxx
She reassures Santa that she'll leave a mince pie and that
'Dad makes the best'
(but we'll see about that!)
I've challenged Gavin to a bake-off this Christmas Eve, a good natured (but only if I win) little bakeathon to see who produces the bestest mince pies.
I quite like the luxury mini mince pies from M&S, but it's traditional in our house to produce actual home made ones. After first scraping a years worth of dust from the poor neglected food processor....I am no Nigella.
Gavin follows his Mum's well aged recipe which bizarrely involves self raising flour and one classified ingredient..
okay okay, I'll share, but keep it to yourself-
( copious quantities of cherry brandy.)
I can't deny the flavoursome properties of Gav's mince pies, but I'm quite keen to see if I can win at our version of the 'Pepsi Challenge' so watch this space for a (hopefully) vaguely amusing followup.
The trees are up.
And we have two.
A 3 ft Nordman fir from Asda which is furiously moulting needles despite the non-drop description and an increasingly frail looking fake tree whose fakery is further amplified by the presence of authentic living tree across the room.
Both trees have a small selection of home and school made decorations collected over almost ten years of childhood, an annual reminder of which preschool they attended, what house we lived in, which friends they played with, etc.
Christmases past and Christmas present.
The lounge is all red candle wreaths, orange cinammon, pine, fairy lights and mess. Christmas is not Christmas without a messy lounge and myself trying to hide some ocd tendencies (must throw under the sofa where the rest of the crap goes )
Now where's the mulled wine and Baileys ?