Bits of roofs were blown off barns, but a kind neighbour came and helped patch things up and no harm was done. Meanwhile, I was still cooking. And playing the clarinet. I’m a bit concerned whether my lungs will hold out, as I have a cough today – I felt a tickle in the throat for the last few days, but now I’m a bit chesty. Ahem. If you see what I mean.
I haven’t had time to go near the piano today yet, but I’ll introduce the children to it this evening. Al and co are coming over for the carol service and then coming back for something to eat – I’ve made sausage rolls and mince pies and meringues, and have cheese and smoked salmon and so on in the fridge.
I’ve also made two lots of ice cream and iced the cake, properly, with royal icing. None of that disappointing (on a fruit cake, anyway) bought fondant stuff. I had egg whites left over from the ice cream anyway (quite a lot, hence the meringues). Not that I’ll eat much of it, truth to tell, I’m not too bothered about icing.
Bemused as I’ve been at my diligence, it has only just occurred to me that all this used to be normal. I just haven’t bothered since my children grew up. But in the past, I used to do all this baking malarkey as routine, as well as look after small children and I did all my own gardening then, too. And we used to live in a bigger house than this one. I suppose I was just quicker then. And actually, I loved looking after my family – and still do, of course.
In case none of us has time to read or write blogs tomorrow, I will say now that I hope you have exactly the Christmas you most like, whether it’s peaceful, jolly, energetic, sleepy or anything else. Bless you, darlings, you are kind and lovely friends and I am so glad to have the opportunity to know you, whether we’ve met yet in person or not. Happy Christmas.
*vegetables for tomorrow still to be prepared.