The turkey will have travelled half a mile up the road from Clint's place. The ham will be our own, although it did take a detour via Stevensons and Marcus the butcher. Brussels sprouts, carrots and potatoes will come from the garden.
I can't promise that a lot of my pudding and desert ingredients won't have covered a mile or two before they hit the kitchen island but not the eggs. If the hens don't take fear of the snow we should get enough eggs for cakes.
Shame we can't grow coffee, chocolate and wine.