And so to the great feast of Christmas.
On Wednesday, I took a trip into town to meet up with work colleagues for a drink and collect two DVDs which purported to contain Alexander downloaded from the Internet. One of the disks, however, turned out to contain Debbie Does Dallas which I had never seen and am now content that I have touched base with another cultural icon.
Thursday morning, Ross and I did the final food shopping and I collected the goose and gammon (sounds like the name of a Cotswold theme pub). Then it was over to the Wirral to collect my parents for their Christmas sojourn with us.
We passed a quiet Christmas Eve and gathered by the tree on Christmas morning for present giving and telephone messages from my sister Linda in Epsom and my cousin Joe in the Sultanate of Oman. I'd spoken with Robert and Gill the day before and Ross got to speak with his parents in Kenya on Boxing Day.
There was much delight in the present opening not least from
Jemima who has always found that paper is an
admirable prey to be ripped to shreds.
Highlights?
The biggest laugh of the Festive period came via the Christmas tree. My mum was much impressed by the decorations and its size. I mentioned that the base was a sump filled with water to help the tree retain its needles. Smelling pine in the air and not recognising that it came from the tree itself, she asked if I had put anything in the water - assuming that I'd added a natural essence. Me, not understanding the question, answered, truthfully, that I'd put in some Baby Bio. I added that the tree had only been three foot tall when we bought it and had grown two foot since. As one, both my parents looked at the tree enquiringly and then back at me before looking at the tree again and bursting out laughing.
Well, our Christmas evening fire in the living room was a real treat. Albert, my dad, certainly basked in its radiant glow. The snow on Christmas evening was a delight. The Boxing Day walk along Crosby promenade in glorious, blinding sunshine was bracing and excellent. And, of course the food.
All of Ross's planning and preparing and reading paid off. The beef in red wine pie on Thursday was good, rich fayre, the baked sugar-glazed gammon on Christmas Eve was truly scrumptious and the roast goose with apple stuffing, forcemeat stuffing and prunes in Armagnac was an absolute triumph.
Downsides?
Well, I don't think that Albert and Grace had taken into account the fact that living with two cats is like living with two young children in that they have their moods and their needs have to be taken into account. And I think that we prefer a quieter, less organised way of proceding than they do - not enough group activities I think; no games. And I do eventually get fed up of them telling me all about Mary when they don't listen to very much that Ross and I tell them about our lives.
But it's over once again. My parents are back at their home. We have ours back to ourselves again and we can settle down, two men and two cats, in front of a roaring fire and watch whatever we like on the television, video or DVD.
