By the day after our return it was clear that I was in for a White Star quality Cunard cold. As usual. (Martyn came back last year with a gut bug, but - fingers firmly crossed - there’s no sign of that so far.). We had to do some shopping on Christmas Eve, so I fear I may have shared my Cunard experience with characteristic generosity.
Just as well, then, that we had a Darby & Darby Christmas Day at home. (Once I’d been down to the farm to pay for the eggs I’d bought the day before, forgetting in my snottitude to put the money in the box!). Simple roast chicken with lots of vegetables, and a long interval before Fortnums’ Christmas pud. It was a beautiful day, so we spent a lot of it in the sitooterie enjoying the sunshine.
Meanwhile, Daisy the Cow, our mooing fridge, has been showing signs of increasing age. We should have thrown her back earlier, given how she moaned about responding to the thermostat even from her earliest days. Ten or so years on, we shouldn’t be too ashamed. Anyway, Heironymous Frost arrives some time on Monday. A very brief bit of research identified what we needed, and the fact that a local big shed was offering a discount. In and out within five minutes. Our kind of shopping.
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