Christmas 2012

Every Christmas is the same and every Christmas is different .
Some things never change ... mountains of spare ribs on Christmas Eve , turkey , and just rescuing the Christmas pud. before it boils dry. Stockings , too many olives , television , the lights fusing , lots of 'phone calls and the firm intention of going for a walk ... in just a minute . Exotic biscuits , running out of clean mugs again , pistachio shells  underfoot , a strange new gadget , and new cookery books .
This year for a change , we added a bit of slapstick to it all in the shape of toast  . Sitting in the kitchen , pondering with Youngest Daughter when the best time was to put the turkey in the oven , I suddenly noticed that she had smoke coming out of her ears ....
It took a second to realise that it was coming from the toaster right behind her . As she jumped up having smelled the charring and popped up the smouldering  remains , I switched on the extractor fan , she opened the front and back doors , I ran with the two black rectangles to the Green bin  , and the smoke alarm kicked in . That's the smoke alarm which is up at ceiling level in our very high ceilinged hall .... the one that neither of us could reach to switch off .
Resourceful to a fault she leapt about underneath it , swatting at it with a mop till she'd knocked it off the ceiling and stopped the noise , I waved weakly at the neighbour across the street and closed the front door and Husband appeared wondering what we were up to  .
Coffee restored the calm ,  our presents were lovely and lunch was delicious , if a little late . Husband  spent a bemused half-hour reading the instruction leaflet from his Build Your Own Banjo kit from Middle Daughter , YD buried herself in Giorgio Locatelli's Made In Sicily and I got acquainted with Johnny Depp courtesy of Smitonius and Partner ....