Friday 24 December 2010

Twas the night before Christmas...

 when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Except in OUR house where my resident mouse, mice or meece ate quite a large chunk of marzipan plus the silver paper in which it was encased. I expect they were wearying of the Ryvita. Who can blame them?

I've done all sorts of Christmassy things today - made pickled pears for the goose. (Do geese even LIKE pickled pears?) And yes I know that the pears would have been FAR better if I'd made them several months ago but DELIA SAYS they'll be okay. If it's good enough for Delia then, well. just don't mention it to Gordon Ramsay.


Made more mince pies, made more brandy butter - see, that's the mistake of doing things too early - it's all gone before Christmas and then you have to do it AGAIN. I decorated the Christmas cake too if you can call a random snow scene decorating. I expect when I get back downstairs all my beautiful snowy peaks will have collapsed into one gloopy splodge. Art imitating life.

Happy Christmas one and all, just in case I'm banned from the computer tomorrow.

A woman's place is in the wrong.

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