Christmas scribbles

My writing muse has been working elsewhere this week, but I felt like it was about time for a new blog post. So, a few quick Christmassy scribbles to keep you entertained.

1. I have not had a mince pie yet. There is a mincemeat samosa recipe that I'd like to try, but we have been drowning in cake recently because we hosted a Christmas social and everyone brought ridiculously calorific and amazingly huge cakes from Costco and refused to take them home. This is some kind of conspiracy.

2. We have, however, had Christmas cupcakes, decorated by Toby. He had a great time doing them. Meanwhile his little brother demolished an entire cupcake and tipped washing powder all over the floor.

3. On a related note, putting up the tree feels like the sort of thing that should be a family activity, but trying to deal with two excited boys tying the lights in knots and throwing baubles at my head tends to make me stressed very quickly. Once we had the tree sorted, I waited until they were in bed and spent a lovely peaceful evening arranging the rest of the decorations.

4. Graham's mum knitted us a lovely nativity set which has been carefully arranged on our fireplace. Theo, however, is convinced that baby Jesus' manger should be standing on end and tucked away behind Mary. We keep trying to tell him that Jesus is actually the main character.

5. Toby had his first school nativity play this week. He was one of the wise men, resplendent in a purple cape and - bizarrely - sunglasses. One of the lines of the song was, "We're the guys with the camels, we're the guys with the shades" and if you have any idea why, you are very welcome to enlighten me.

6. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and ice a Christmas cake.

Comments

Mr White Watson of Bakewell

Once upon a time, back in 1795 or so, lived a man who was always asking questions. The kind of questions like, "Why is glass transparent?" or "Why do fruit trees grow better in that place than in this place?" or "What does the earth look like underneath the surface?" This last question was one that he was particularly interested in, and he went so far as to work out what the rock layers looked like where he lived, and draw little pictures of them. Now he was a marble sculptor by trade (as well as fossil hunter, mineral seller, and a few other things) so he thought it would be even better to make his little pictures in stone. That way he could represent the layers using the actual rocks they were composed of. Over the course of his lifetime he made almost 100 of these tablets, as he called them. Then he died. And no one else was quite as interested in all those rocks and minerals as he was. His collection was sold off, bit by bit, and the table...

Laid-back Lille and Bustling Brussels

After a night in a tiny AirBnB in Canterbury , where there were chocolates on the table and artwork on every inch of the walls, we boarded a ferry with an absolute minimum of fuss, enjoyed a smooth crossing of the channel, and were deposited in the decidedly unscenic surroundings of the port of Dunkirk two hours later. Once we got past the cranes and shipping containers, though, the countryside was flat but pleasant. We stopped at a small town called Cassel, reached by cobbled roads winding up a hill. On the summit was an old windmill and a topograph telling you the distances to various improbable places; St Omer may have been visible in the haze, but Manchester was surely over the horizon. In Lille, we found our apartment, unpacked the luggage (one rucksack apiece), and set out to find food. Our first choice was fully booked, so we embarked on that kind of aimless wandering where everyone is hungry and no one wants to actually choose a restaurant. We reached a Lebanese place call...

Canterbury Cathedral

We were booking a trip to France, and I persuaded the family that it was madness to drive four hours to Dover and get straight on the ferry. "We should definitely stay overnight somewhere," I said. "Oh look, Canterbury is very handy - just twenty minutes from Dover." Of course, my suggestion was not influenced in the slightest by the fact that Canterbury contains England's most famous cathedral. On the way down, we stretched our legs on Dunstable Downs, an area of chalk grassland owned by the National Trust. I was pleased to spot a scarlet pimpernel for my 100 Plants Challenge . We also enjoyed watching gliders ascending and descending. We turned onto the M25 and made our way through busy traffic to the Dartford Crossing. This is one of those mythical points on the UK road network, like Scotch Corner and Watford Gap: the name familiar from traffic reports on the radio; the reality - for someone who grew up west of London - a hazy blur of imagination. It turns ou...

Martha's Marvellous Munchies

Search This Blog