It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas

We are still waking up far too early in the morning so today we had breakfast at half five and then set off to do some superstore shopping while everyone else was still in bed.  The near empty store meant I was unlikely to get trolley rage.  Although I nearly murdered the woman who took the last Christmas jumper off the rack just as I was about to take it.  I don’t really need a Christmas jumper.  The freezer is now crammed full of party goodies.  We brought wine and fizz back from France earlier in the year so the ‘cellar’ is fully stocked. Just the turkey and fresh vegetables to buy on Friday.

When we got home I made my ‘once a year’ Whisky  Dundee Cake.  As per usual the mix curdled, it always does.  Probably because I haven’t the patience to add the eggs slowly enough.  It will taste fine, not just as light as it could be.  Not as pretty as Weaver’s cakes but I’m pleased with the result.

Bring on Christmas, I’m ready for it (if I can stay awake).

Not Much Of A View

the view from my kitchen window

Our home in this rural Wiltshire market town is a very small but useful bolthole for when we are in England - a coach house on a new housing estate with the living accommodation built above four garages, very secure for when we want to lock up and leave it for several months.  This home is so very different to our house in France but what it lacks in character and space is compensated by its warmth and convenience for the brief periods we spend here.

We have no glorious views of the countryside.  My kitchen window looks out onto a courtyard and a block of apartments.  Rather like Hitchcock’s Rear Window I can watch my neighbours while I’m washing dishes at the sink.  I don’t know many of them to speak to but I am very familiar with their daily routine.  I know what time they go to work and what time they get home.  I know who does the cooking because they are busy in their kitchens at the same time as me.

Most of the residents are young couples except for Mr & Mrs Irish. They are an elderly couple who retired here from Ireland to be closer to their daughter who lives nearby.  Mr Irish is always very chatty and keeps us up to date with the local gossip.  He has informed us today that the new family who moved in next door to us are 150% better than the last family and that a new lady has moved into the middle flat.  Also the girl in the top flat has been off work for several weeks after an operation on her jaw and Mr Frost has got a new car.  (He was outside washing it this morning.)

I’m convinced there are vampires occupying the ground floor flat.  They have their blinds pulled all the time and always have hoods pulled up over their heads when they venture outside.  I mistakenly thought that the corner flat was occupied by hit men as they were always carrying guns in and out.  Transpired that the ‘guns’ were in fact fishing rods.

We will enjoy being here for a while but after a couple of months Paul will be pacing up and down like a caged animal desperate to get back to his garden in France.  In the meantime I shall enjoy being a 'curtain twitcher' and watching the comings and goings of my neighbours.

Jet-Lag

Yesterday I felt fine until the jet-lag suddenly hit me like an express train.  Everything ached, my head was filled with fuzzy thoughts and brain fog and I was convinced I had caught the ‘flu.  I struggled to keep awake and then climbed into bed at 9.00 p.m.  I was wide awake by 3.00 a.m.

This morning I was bright eyed and bushy tailed so got stuck into baking some cakes and hung some baubles up on the plastic Christmas tree that Paul hauled out of the attic.  The tree once belonged to Sarah and has fibre optics that light it up and change colour.  It’s getting a bit tatty now and has seen better days but I can’t quite bring myself to get rid of it.  Paul and I probably wouldn’t bother with a tree but my youngest daughter is joining us for Christmas so she will expect the full works.

Now it’s nearing lunch time and I’m starting to feel tired and irritable again.  Paul is playing some ghastly medley of carols and I can’t bear the sound of it.   He’s switched it off.  I’m hoping to watch the Strictly Come Dancing final tonight but I’ve got a funny feeling I shall be asleep in my chair.

Revenge Cat feeling festive. (I bought this crazy guy in a fit of pique when Paul wouldn't let me buy some box trees to put outside the front door.  He said they would look pretentious.  He was right.)

Hazel nuts from our garden in France.

It’s cold. It’s Christmas. I’m home.

 It’s cold.  It’s Christmas.  I’m home.
 
The flight from Hong Kong (13 hours) was interminable.  Four films and three Sudoku puzzles later we finally landed at Heathrow.  Our jolly taxi driver met us at the airport wearing a silly Christmas jumper, he was a welcome sight.  He looked like an off-duty Santa. I slept for the sleigh car ride home to Wiltshire while Paul and Santa discovered they had a passion for gardening in common and discussed the merits of growing cabbages and sprouts.

It was wonderful to fall into bed last night, we woke up at 3.00 a.m. and then gave up and got up for breakfast at 5.00 a.m.  Paul made tea and porridge, the only food we have in the house. We opened the mountain of mail.  Mostly junk but quite a few Christmas cards.  I have been told I need to write my cards today and get them sent.  I wasn’t going to bother.

It’s dark outside.  The houses are all decorated with twinkling fairy lights.  It’s nice to be home.  I wonder what Buddy is doing ...

Hong Kong

Here we are in Hong Kong after a nine hour flight (and two hour delay).  Buddy came with us to the airport and waved goodbye.  Needless to say I was in pieces.

We have just been down to eat in the hotel restaurant, a wonderful buffet.  I was a bit puzzled why everything looked so blurred and I needed my reading glasses to see what I was eating.  I think it is probably the result of watching three in-flight films, one after the other, on a very small screen and hopefully my ‘normal’ vision will be restored after a night’s sleep.

Shall I talk about the buffet or the films?   Okay, food first. The seafood on offer was amazing but I’m always a bit wary of eating shell fish before a flight.  But I did allow myself some crab and prawns.  The trouble with buffets is that I want to eat everything so I end up with a disgusting medley of unrelated food items on my plate.  I also had fun with the chocolate fountain.  Paul had to drag me away in the end.

The films on the plane helped me through the flight.  I started off with Florence Foster Jenkins, the real life story of an heiress/socialite considered to be the worst singer ever.  Meryl Streep was perfectly cast and it was very funny and rather sad.  Then I watched Joy (Jennifer Lawrence) another biopic of a woman who invented a new mop, and finally Me Before You about a kooky girl who forms an unlikely bond with a recently-paralyzed man.  I’m rambling on a bit now and my brain has gone fuzzy. I’ve been up since 5.00 a.m. and it’s now only half eight but that would be half eleven in Sydney so I’m going to sleep now. Leaving here midday tomorrow for a thirteen hour flight back to Heathrow.  That’s a lot of films.
 

Temple God