Wide open spaces...

So I survived...You'll remember from my last blog on Christmas Eve that all service had come to a grinding halt as I had spectacularly launched a full bottle of nail varnish remover over my laptop.  I did try and wipe it off, but when the 'E' disappeared from the keyboard (rather too vigorous in the rubbing department perhaps), I realised that my laptop was, in the words of Monty Python, a 'wooden overcoat job'.

So thank you for granting me a couple of days off.  It gave me more time to eat and drink, something I really didn't need to be honest.

So what have I been up to?  Well apart from eating and drinking so much that The Boundaries Commission are considering inserting a new county somewhere between Oxfordshire and Berkshire, I managed to cover a lot of ground.

Christmas Eve was spent splitting my time between wrapping up those last few stragglers, putting my head in the oven (there was nothing cooking, I just came close to throwing in the towel on a couple of occasions), reminding the husband that we needed beers and trying to guess which of the two boys a cream jumper was for.  Every year I create a spreadsheet which is my go-to for the kids' presents.  Unfortunately, this had been on the receiving end of a fair sized glug of acetone, so wasn't able to help me as to which name to write on the label.  I gave up in the end and tossed a coin, which is why son number one ended up with it...

Christmas Day was spent at Miss R's, where she excelled herself on the culinary front, serving turkey, and a piece of beef which was so large, I swear it lowed on the way to the table.  Miss R had to resort to using a large axe and hacksaw to break the bones before cooking, mainly to get it into the oven, and all of the guests looked slightly concerned at the sight of her draining board...


So on to the Main Event...

The meal was lovely, and to be surrounded by those you love best (except several of our children who had had a better offer) is the perfect was to spend Christmas Day.  But it was the games which tipped us all over the edge.  Along with most of the families in the civilised world, we had chosen the mouth guard game as our after dinner entertainment.  Once we'd realised which way round they went (this bit was funnier than the game actually) it was all systems go.  This was the cue for a plethora of Gromit impersonations and unwanted drooling.  This was most unladylike, so I took to tucking a napkin under my mouth guard to catch the deluge. Son number two and the husband excelled at this game, where us ladies of  a difficult age had a few close calls....


There was then a game with a kazoo, or a gazoo as Miss R kept calling it.  I was concerned that she might have confused it with a gnu - I would have liked to have seen her get a tune out of that, mind you, that rib of beef could probably have sung a passable 'My Way' given half a chance. 

With the washing up done, and the table cleared, we headed off home, and I reminded the husband once again that we needed beer for Boxing Day.  It was our turn to entertain you see, and I had planned well on the food front, but because I am not the hugest of drinkers, I never think about buying alcohol.  This explains why I had to send out all four children on Boxing Day to get beer from the little supermarket. 

I had also asked them to get some smoked salmon as the four packets I had bought for Christmas had been polished off while we were away in Poland.  Of course, no one thought to tell me till Boxing Day, so off the kids went with a list of booze needed, plus the smoked salmon and a couple of other bits.  Walking back through the kitchen door about half an hour hater, son number one slapped a packet of Palma ham onto the kitchen worktop.  Eyeing it up quizzically, I asked him why they'd got that.  Well apparently, the shop had no smoked salmon, and Palma ham was suggested as the perfect alternative.
Just try telling the non-meat eating guest that....



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