Christmas Preparations And The Stress Thereof
Today was the beginning of Christmas preparations in the flat. Which, mainly, was pretty nice, good collaborative spirit: Gregg and Tony putting the star on the tree, Vince complaining that it wasn't shiny enough, Howard then claiming that in fact, it was so shiny that it was giving him a headache and he needed a lie down, Vince helpfully offering to go with him, Howard going an interesting shade of red, then Gregg going an interesting shade of, well, of green, actually...that sort of thing.
However. Christmas preparations also mean the first in a long line of Turkey Runs.
Now let's see. Bollo and I have been together (not like that, easy) for...four? Five years? And I can't actually remember the day that I told him that he could be in charge of Christmas lunch, or if I ever did, but suffice it to say that he takes care of all the food preparation related to Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day, which is all well and good.
However, last year we had a minor calamity. Potatoes didn't roast, meaning they needed longer in the oven, meaning that other things couldn't go in the oven, and everything finished cooking at different times. Personally, having been born on another planet etc, I'm fine with cold pizza for Christmas lunch, but it did cause some grumbling amongst certain other residents hereabouts.
So this year Bollo's decided to do a dry run of Christmas lunch. No, he's decided to do three dry runs of Christmas lunch, worrier that he is. Meaning that I spent all today with a stopwatch and an oven glove, turning up this and opening that, while Bollo scribbled down mathematical calculations that will apparently allow us to have turkey, roast potatoes, new potatoes, sprouts (Howard's fond of them), peas and carrots, broccoli, bacon, sausages, nut roast for the vegetarians, stuffing, bread sauce, gravy, vegetarian gravy, cranberry sauce, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake, warm Baileys, mulled wine and pre-warmed plates come Christmas day.
The upshot of this is that we will have enough food to feed pretty much all of London. So what I'm offering is this.
All grudges are off. (Except you-know-who, but I doubt he's the turkey type anyway.) If you can read this, and you can bring a chair, and you have nowhere else to go, you're invited round ours on Christmas. DON'T BRING ANY MORE FOOD. Wine is good though.
Season of goodwill and all that. And a merry whatever to all.
However. Christmas preparations also mean the first in a long line of Turkey Runs.
Now let's see. Bollo and I have been together (not like that, easy) for...four? Five years? And I can't actually remember the day that I told him that he could be in charge of Christmas lunch, or if I ever did, but suffice it to say that he takes care of all the food preparation related to Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day, which is all well and good.
However, last year we had a minor calamity. Potatoes didn't roast, meaning they needed longer in the oven, meaning that other things couldn't go in the oven, and everything finished cooking at different times. Personally, having been born on another planet etc, I'm fine with cold pizza for Christmas lunch, but it did cause some grumbling amongst certain other residents hereabouts.
So this year Bollo's decided to do a dry run of Christmas lunch. No, he's decided to do three dry runs of Christmas lunch, worrier that he is. Meaning that I spent all today with a stopwatch and an oven glove, turning up this and opening that, while Bollo scribbled down mathematical calculations that will apparently allow us to have turkey, roast potatoes, new potatoes, sprouts (Howard's fond of them), peas and carrots, broccoli, bacon, sausages, nut roast for the vegetarians, stuffing, bread sauce, gravy, vegetarian gravy, cranberry sauce, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake, warm Baileys, mulled wine and pre-warmed plates come Christmas day.
The upshot of this is that we will have enough food to feed pretty much all of London. So what I'm offering is this.
All grudges are off. (Except you-know-who, but I doubt he's the turkey type anyway.) If you can read this, and you can bring a chair, and you have nowhere else to go, you're invited round ours on Christmas. DON'T BRING ANY MORE FOOD. Wine is good though.
Season of goodwill and all that. And a merry whatever to all.