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.

Every Picture: Chocolate Face

The Heavenly Chocolate Pudding went down well even though it stuck ever so slightly when I was sliding it out of the pudding basin. I use, on Nigella's recommendation, a plastic bowl with a lid and I expect I didn't butter it enough. This would be Ben's fault as he stayed here on Saturday night and ate, in addition to his evening meal, his mother's entire chocolate stash, a loaf of bread, three-quarters of a pound of butter and nearly all the cheese. That's teenage boys for you. So, the pudding was not quite as photogenic as the one in my previous post and there was me with yet another pretty narcissus plate to pose it on. That will be one for another time.

Nevermind food photos. What could be more photogenic that Miss Tis cand her chocolate face? Much nicer that any daffodilly pudding plate.

It's Martha's turn to pick the menu next week. She just wants beans then a sponge pudding covered in whipped cream and sprinkles. We will add sausage and mash to the beans for a more balanced meal.

When it is my turn to choose (I'm last because I'm the oldest) there will be plum torte for dessert.

Every Picture: Heavenly Chocolate Pudding

On most Mondays, I make dinner for Zoe and family and last year I came up with the idea of letting people choose, in turn, what I should prepare. It saves me having to rack my brain wondering what to cook. Monday Dinners are seasonal and tie in with the gardening year. They usually finish in November and begin again in February. Tomorrow, the first dinner of the year will be Evie's choice and we have already discussed the menu. We're having pepperoni pizza and Heavenly Chocolate Pudding. Evie always chooses chocolate pudding and there must be lots of chocolate sauce as that is her favourite part.

Other accompaniments have been added as time went on. She asked for ice cream and that was very good. Of course, I chose vanilla but Evie found this rather dull so now we have steamed chocolate pudding, lashings of chocolate sauce and popping candy ice cream. It's very easy to prepare too. Can't wait for tomorrow although I'm not convinced about the popping candy but, it is Evie's choice.

Here's one I prepared earlier. If I remember I'll see if I can get a picture of Evie's chocolate face for tomorrow's post. Cannot wait for February to be gone so I can have a day or two off blogging.

In other news, would you ever let Quinn babysit your kid? Homeland this evening was nail-bitingly good.

Monday Suppers

Zoe's last task of the year, pruning and tying in raspberries

Zoe and family have been growing vegetables here in Springhill for many years and

I’ve been cooking Monday supper for them all for most of those years. At first, it seemed like a lot of work, especially the part where I’d have to decide what to make. Then, earlier this year, I had a great idea. Instead of me choosing what to cook I’d ask everyone, in turn, to pick the menu starting with the youngest, Miss Evie and working up to myself, the most senior member of the family.

Typical menu choices would be,

1. Evie – Hot Dogs, Steamed Chocolate Pudding with Chocolate Sauce and Popping Candy Ice Cream.

2. Martha – Pizza, Cake with Icing and Sprinkles

3. Zoe – Lasagne, Fruit Crumble

4. Dave – Lamb Tagine, Lemon Meringue Pie

5. Bert - Mince and Onions, Mashed Potato, Apple Tart

6. Me - Cottage Pie, Trifle

And then it would be Evie again who would choose Hot Dogs, Steamed Chocolate Pudding with Chocolate Sauce and Popping Candy Ice Cream. Her menu choice has never varied since we began taking turns. Martha always has pizza but sometimes varies her dessert. Zoe will choose something that she knows I find easy to make and Dave won’t. I’ve tried a few new dishes thanks to Dave and I’m glad of it.

Yesterday was the final Monday supper of the season as they won’t be gardening again until February. We had Pollo Verde, which was Dave’s choice, and Apple Crumble. I made a salad of lettuce, apples, flaked almonds and tomatoes and dressed it with a mustard and honey dressing. In keeping with the plan to use up ancient foodstuffs the honey (our own) had fermented but that only added to the piquancy of the dressing.

Bert said it was the best Monday supper ever. My portion was moderate and delicious and, at one point, sitting there with the family, I experienced such a rare and delightful feeling of utter contentment. All felt right with my world. Roll on February!

Martha watering strawberries back in 2012.