The birthday balloon remains banished to the downstairs loo. After all these weeks, the helium is struggling.
I learned, years ago, of the consequences of free-wheeling balloons: sensors triggered; alarm goes off; police with dogs arrive! Ever since, as much as I love a balloon that lets me feel the ceiling, I’ve had to hold them prisoner!
Super Christmas! A bit of pre-prep the day before, bird in the oven at 0830 before opening stockings, another flurry at 1200 before greeting precious neighbour guests for lunch with all the trimmings.
I couldn’t believe that they all had seconds and devoured every last drop of the wonderful gravy. Classic Christmas pud to finish (with honey again and fruit soaked in booze for months) with a refreshing mandarin jelly. Ready to burst – you bet! We never got to the Christmas cake but tiny mince pies filled the odd gap.
Wonderful gifts from the sous-chef and others that took us until Boxing Day to open.
