Christmas Eve

 Next year I'm going to buy the family Christmas presents early. In January I will buy Martha and Evie's papa a bottle of gin. In February I will again buy Martha and Evie's papa a bottle of gin. And in March...

Many, many hours later...

Holly de Cat, many Christmases ago.

Lockdown Christmas Eve

 I had my long-awaited knee X-ray yesterday. The appointment was at 2pm and, as I always like to be early, I presented myself at five minutes before the hour and was seen immediately and back in the van ten minutes later. The downside of these speedy appointments is that we wait much longer to get them and longer again for the results.

Yesterday's other noteworthy event was my first sighting of the Jupiter-Mercury Christmas conjunction. The big night was last Monday but it was too cloudy to see anything. The two planets are drawing apart but we were able to see it in our own yard and I was glad that I had the opportunity. We earth-dwellers do set a lot of store by these heavenly events even though the planets are always there and the conjunction is simply an optical illusion. Still, it was magical.

Thinking of it I was reminded of my obsession with the Hale-Bopp comet in the late 1990s. Bert’s father Johnny was fascinated with it too and probably first saw it from this yard in 1996. By the time the comet was at its most spectacular Johnny was dying. Earth’s view of Hale-Bopp peaked in April 1997, Johnny died less than two months later. When I think of Hale-Bopp now I feel sorry that he didn't get to see it in its full splendour. The point of my story - take every opportunity to gaze at the heavens.

Pearlie and Johnny

So today, it’s Christmas Eve again and this is my sixty-eighth Christmas. As always, things to do. I’ve wrapped all the presents available to me for half of my order from Berlin has yet to arrive. I spent most of the morning making stuffing for our one-legged turkey. Then at half-ten stopped everything to listen to Miss Evie and a multitude of musicians aged from four to eighty take part in a Christmas recording of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas organised by the BenedettiFoundation.

Evie is one of the cellists (white jumper) roughly in the middle of the screenshot. Only a close relative would bother to seek her out as the picture is so teeny, but she was there, she took part and I am very proud of her.

Tomorrow will be a quiet Christmas, just Bert, Hannah and myself and Bert will be spending a good part of the day with his elderly aunt in Kells. I expect I’ll have a few hours on my own. It will be different and I’m even looking forward to it a little bit. Especially the family Zoom call at 9pm. My one-legged turkey should be starting to sizzle nicely by then.

Christmas Eve

It's seven o'clock and I've had four hours sleep. Awakened by Roy barking to be let out. I'm not pleased. I look outside, then I go outside to look at the sky. Sun's not up, the moon is waning gibbous but so bright. There is a passenger jet blinking past and Venus is dazzling in the east. I think it's Venus. I decide to have coffee and keep and blog Christmas Eve even though I've already got plenty to do. Who hasn't?

Who hasn't? Well - Bertram for a start but he'll find something useful to be getting on with as the day progresses. Just like yesterday when he took over my kitchen to melt beeswax, something I think could have been postponed until the festivities are done.

Blog excerpt from ten years ago.

And on the home front, Bert has embarked on his traditional Christmas preparations. This always involves a large, messy and thoroughly non-urgent task that he has been putting off for at least three years. I think it was last year he decided to demolish the turf shed and this year he’s building (from scratch) a sliding door between the scullery and the hall. The house is knee deep in sawdust and I’m terrified the kitten is going to decapitate itself on Bert’s Makita.

Two minutes past eight. The eastern sky is brightening and I'm off back to bed with another coffee. I won't stay long.

Just long enough to read another few pages of Fire and Fury. I've got to the bit where Bannon's still in the West Wing but teetering.

By nine o'clock I had the Heavenly Chocolate Pudding on the hob. It's Evie's favourite. Bert is still in bed but awake. I asked him, ever so nicely, not to embark upon any project that encroaches upon the domestic sphere. He promised he wouldn't. Actually, he said he might stay in bed all day. Surely in jest?

Twenty-five past ten. I'm tired. Hens fed and watered and a Christmas gift from one of the red girls. A big brown egg. They've all been off the lay for weeks except for the white one and she lays out. Her current nest is underneath the palm tree which is very inconvenient as collection entails having to kneel in the earth and stretch in to lift them.

Eleven forty-five. Managed to get Bert (he did get up) and Vancouver Brother out of the house for an hour or two and am eating a favourite breakfast of toast, strong cheese and my own chilli jam. I have produced a giant bowl of breadcrumbs for the turkey stuffing. I still haven't laid eyes on the bird.

A quarter to two and the boys are back after breakfasting at Grafters. I've had a shower, read a bit of my book, took some photographs with my new (to me) camera, cleaned out the fire and peeled a dozen onions. I am at present drinking a cup of peppermint tea and feel very tired.

Much more practice needed with this camera

Three hours later. Nearly 5 o'clock and I have a new lease of life. Trifle started - the fruity, cakey alcoholic bit and with the help of Vancouver Brother vegetables and meat prepped for tonight's supper. Melanie has just arrived bearing gifts. I got two geranium Rozanne. Apparently I said on this very blog that I wanted those. Who needs letters to Father Christmas? I just tell the blog and I get everything I want. Martha, Evie and their parents will be here any moment. Aha! That's them now. It will be a few hours before I return to blogging.

A quarter past seven. Listening to Dixieflyer (our brother-in-law) on Mad Wasp Radio. We've eaten, exchanged presents and said goodnight to two extremely excited young women. Supper was good, sausages, mash, veggies followed by my choc pud, Bert's ganache and vanilla ice cream. Banjo Man has been and gone and I'm not the slightest bit tired.

Great-Uncle Eamon and the noisiest girls in the world.

Nearly half-eight. I've had a glass of wine, courtesy of The Bun, and a little doze so now it's time to load the dishwasher and make the turkey stuffing. Bert has offered to chop onions and grate carrots. The turkey has been weighed. It's a big one and will need the most of five hours in the oven .

Half-past nine. Eamon and I finished making the stuffing, Bert cleaned up and we completed another stage of the sherry trifle. The men are cooking the ham and no doubt they'll eat a whack of it after I go to bed. But that's OK. They're good fellows, they deserve it.

Wishing everyone who visits the Garden a peaceful Christmas.

And hit publish.

Christmas Eve

Christmas jobs done - stuffing, mince pies, ham, made turkey oven-ready, last of presents wrapped, decorated tree and put up Christmas cards, wrote this blog post.

Other tasks completed - fed pigs and hens, cleaned house to usual low standard, entertained guests, phoned plumber.

Not done - I did not make a wreath, forgot the tinfoil and did not make the chocolate cheesecake.

Happy Christmas Eve!

December Daily Post, Christmas Eve

A bit fraught, ever so slightly stressed. That is how I feel when I clean house. And it's usually how I feel on Christmas Eve. Not one sprout has been peeled. Some house has been cleaned. All the Christmas edibles have been purchased, some of the drinkables. The shops open again on Boxing Day so why do most people have a week's groceries in for one day?

All the presents are wrapped. We have a considerable pile under the tree. Bert asks,

Are any of these for me?

A few of them probably are even though he never buys presents.

Next year, if God spares us, Nellybert will be celebrating Christmas in Norfolk.

A Happy Christmas to all who visit Nelly's Garden.

Christmas Eve 2013

The storm didn't come. According to a friend who works for NIE, and is one of those guys who repairs the lines when the power goes off, it passed above us on its way to the Western Isles. A relief for County Antrim, not so much for other places.

Before I knew this I was at the freezer taking out everything I thought we'd need for Christmas Day and Boxing Day. I also removed 4 pounds of frozen blackberries and started a gallon of wine. God spares us we'll be drinking that next Christmas Eve.

It's been another busy day. Lots of friends calling round and lots of baking and cooking. I felt a bit like Nigella except I expect her kitchen is nicer than mine and obvs she has access to better drugs. All I had was some paracetamol for my sore knee.

And regarding that sore knee - I was striding through Cully yesterday when it occurred to me that my knee hadn't troubled me for well over a week. Within moments it had started to throb. I wonder if it had been sore the whole time but I'd forgotten about it? The mind is a very curious thing.