And isn’t it odd how once it would have made me really excited to know it’s Christmas Eve; now that I’m rather ancient it has – almost – lost its allure?
OK, it’s still quite nice. I just have to make the kale soup and we’ll be fine.
Wishing my lovely readers a Happy Christmas!
It was a successful party. I think. Only 20% of the guests slept through it, which might indicate we are rather scintillating company?
For the first time since 1972 I live in a town where there are relatives nearby. In fact, it was only for four years last time, and I loved it. The idea that you could see family without first travelling for a couple of hours was just great. So now that we have a few relatives in the same town, I took advantage of it and press-ganged them into coming round to Bookwitch Towers for funny foreign food.
I obviously didn’t tell them that. They discovered when they got here, and after cautious beginnings, they demolished the Temptation, and ate the beautiful French cheese (all the way from St Andrews) with a teaspoon (that’s one spoon each), as it was pretty runny by then.
The sleeping was mainly to do with the discussion of limited companies and sole traders and accountants. It’s the kind of thing this lot of relatives will talk about, unlike the ones from forty years ago. But they are all nice. Some of them offered to give the Grandmother a lift home, which spared her the – relative – indignity of being returned home in a wheelchair.
And we have food to last us a little while…
The kale quiche (I know, that’s not kale soup. I will get to the soup later) was barely started, but started enough for it to be annoying, when the lights went. And the oven and the iPod in its dock and the heater in the ‘Ice Cube’ and lots of other electrical goods. The Resident IT Consultant had phoned ahead to ask for coffee to be made, and I assumed it was the coffee-maker at fault.
But when he got in and had to find the torch (very conveniently placed behind a Christmas card so he couldn’t see it) and go and peer at the fuse box in the garage, it wasn’t at all clear what had happened. We had our elevenses, as the electricity went again. I said we might as well enjoy it while the drinks were hot, and we’d be in a better mood to go peer at those confusing circuits afterwards. (We have one circuit labelled immersion heater. We don’t have an immersion heater. Hardly surprising it’s not working.)
We still don’t know what is wrong or why, but we have slowly got most of our modern day essentials working (touch wood).
The funny thing was that the treelights were fine, and the further away from the kitchen you got, the more normal things were. We are the third household in the Witch clan to experience a mysterious kitchen-based electrical problem in a short period of time. I say it’s a curse.