Yep!
Undoubtedly, unwaveringly, categorically, metaphorically, triumphantly, yes, it really is.
Never mind my Crocs, where’s the red stuff?
What would a period of time, divided into 12, divided again by 4, and then again by 7, look like without it. Devoid of light, atmosphere, spirit(s), debt and for some poor souls; cranberry sauce. Can you even imagine the horror and disappointment that family suffered on the very day when we celebrate with too much of anything and everything to be denied the human right of cranberry sauce on not just any day but THE day. Left languishing in the pantry without a thought from anyone of how to get out of there and be set free on what can only be described as it’s biggest day of the year. A chance to shine and stand out from the crowds with its jewelled colour and shiny top…
The pain was unbearable for the hostess without the mostest (only on this occasion, I hasten to add), and she was still suffering the following day at the family homestead. ‘Let it go’ we all cried, (behind our laughter), even though we couldn’t bring ourselves to, as cranberries were popping out in the unlikeliest of places; Champagne flutes, ‘Linger’ through the speakers and crisps spiked with turkey and obviously the red stuff, she had no escape, much like the cranberry sauce itself! Apparently, she’ll never forgive herself….
Molten lava
My forgotten item this year, there’s always one, was red cabbage, but as it was only me eating it, I got away without mentioning it…and have no idea where I’d have put it if I had remembered it….phew, every cloud! Everyone’s abiding forgotten food item is the Christmas long past, that the middle cuzzie had gone veggie and I’d prepared my first ever nut roast which had somehow got shunted down the back of the oven and didn’t appear until Dec 28th, a charred, ugly, black piece of kryptonite that was supposedly once edible. It’s no surprise she’s back eating meat again.
All that meat and plenty of potatoes!
So much cheese, why? Why did I think we needed enough cheese for a 1970’s community shindig reminiscent of Abigail’s Party? We did get through a sack of potatoes though, just us, no community involved. It’s the Irish in our blood, food for the soul, with salt, plenty of salt, not food for the heart, obviously.
Ooh la la…..
Jools joined us for NYE, a quiet affair, with a glass of Port and Ronnie Wood who may have sounded better if he’d had a glass or two himself….oh dear, not exactly memorable but also difficult to forget, I’m still trying.
Pass the cheese
Lots of leftovers and loads of layers for NYD when some of the sproglets and their worn- out parents joined to demolish the last remnants of yuletide (obviously including cheese), and some fresh air and hastily arranged bonfire shenanigans. Hot chocolate in paper cups, sparklers and glow sticks and they couldn’t have been happier, would definitely make an easier (and cheaper), Christmas Day! Saving the sticky toffee pannetone Christmas Pudding served with custard, was a fab finale, definitely to be repeated next year, a new tradition for sure!
So much love….
Lots of tears shed on Sunday when a very much loved Nan, after a hearty breakfast and having her hair done by her loving daughter, passed away peacefully, leaving a whole family bereft and heartbroken but strong in the knowledge that she knew how much she was loved and a very special family who will forever be blessed with what they learnt from her. Treasured memories for sure. And lots more tears to be shed…
Ab Fab!
Sunday roast sought, prepped and cooked by someone else was the star of the weekend, and the busiest pub outside of Covent Garden on a Saturday night that I’ve ever seen. Delicious food, lovely atmosphere and warmth and absolutely no complaints from us. Traditional, timeless and perfect. Followed by time in front of the fire at home again, prepared and lit beforehand, listening to cheesy radio and thinking about where to go and what to do this year. At some point on Sunday, I heard someone say “Is this what life’s about?” My answer would have been “Absolutely”.
Home is where the heart is.
Plenty of lights going on at the homestead this year, so looking decidedly duller around here today following 12th Night. We’re 500 twinkling lights down in the kitchen alone….Hanging on to a fairy lit door frame has been my new year gift to myself, makes me smile and for some reason shouts out ‘welcome’, maybe only to me but sometimes that can be enough. I love home.
The tree of life.
Although the packing away of treasured bits for another year can feel gloomy, I actually love the feel of all the trinkets, baubles and memories of years passed. The little Father Christmas in his red coat that was once the ‘fairy’ on top of Nan’s tree and now sits nuzzled comfortably somewhere around the middle of ours. Not themed or colour coordinated, but a joyful colourful whimsical and magical unique treasure trove of years gone by. The silver Maccy D bauble from a Happy Meal in the 80’s, Bart Simpson, Eeyore, a battery lit Dalmation, the red balls bauble (courtesy of The Prostate Cancer charity) and a rainbow memory of Sid….awwwwww, even the battered tin star that got stuck in the doorframe at Newlands on Boxing Night when we really did face a long cold winter’s eve when we couldn’t close the door! Happily, we found and rescued the culprit the next morning. Amongst a zillion others, these ageing trinkets all play a part in evoking melancholy memories and I imagine the little and not so little fingers of the young and not so young, around those very things as I hold them myself and look back.. fond memories, happy tears.
And so, thank you to all of you our gorgeous family for making our festive time joyful, noisy, chaotic and always full of love and all things bright and beautiful including all of our very own sproglets great and small.
Enjoying time together and creating treasured memories for the future, yes, it really is what life’s about. How lucky we are.
Happy 2026!
Anyone for cheese?
Have you seen my Crocs? 