Tomorrow, Henry ap Troll and I are making a swift trip to the UK. I will be returning in just a couple of days, after I've beaten both sizes of Troll into performing their pre-Christmas necessaries, played snatch-n-grab at Waitrose to get the things I need, run around like the proverbial blue bottle, and generally slapped the preparations into shape.
I confess I LOVE the idea of Christmas, but not so much the reality. The former is an amalgamation of all the cheesy old festive films, with a bit of frosting on top in the form of Bing, Nat, Doris, and Dean to name but a few. My absolutely ideal festive period is embodied by Nat King Cole's 'Christmas Song', which I am not ashamed to say still manages to bring me to tears most times I hear it.
Sadly the reality is usually more like THIS
Yes, the thing all the films forget to mention is that all that lovely food does not either make itself or clean up after itself. It's a messy business, Christmas, from a culinary point of view, more akin to the arena scenes from 'Gladiator' than Doris in a pinny calling everybody to partake of the massive turkey and all the trimmings.
Let us hope Waitrose give me the necessary weapon upgrades this year. Although I suspect the biggest one would be something they Do Not Stock - namely, a helpful cleaning slave who will silently clean the mess up in return for troughing its portion of the vittles. Ain't gonna happen, something tells me...
After the Main Event, I am planning to demand part of the Trolls' Christmas present to me is they LEAVE ME ALONE to some dedicated quilting time, to destress myself in the best way I know.
Ah well, a girl can hope. And this is what the season is all about, isn't it??