I may well get away with it this year but the end is nigh. I am ambivalent about this - it is a very silly concept and I am for rationalist children. Not that I am against the idea of a little magic, but I am not displeased the monsters can think their way through it.
There are still several major impediments to focusing too fully on Christmas-related matters, namely the endless painting task (1st enamel coat today) and the small matter of the opening of the jam season in a week or so.
The mulberry tree is looking like it could do with a pick, which is a bit early. I was hoping for a week or two more to concentrate on painting. It is also odd that the mulberry tree is running early when the raspberries (only 8 feet away) are running on time. In any case, I expect to make 5-6 batches between the two of them by the time Santa is doing his final departure checklist (ho ho ho). The stone friut comes in conveniently later around here - that will be a late January job.
While the mango season is upon us in all its tropical madness, I have decided to skip mango chutney this year. I think I need a spicier recipe. In any case, there is the call of the paintbrush. Only three coats to go and the drop sheets are drop-kicked.
My dearest Monster1 wrote a very comprehensive list to Santa. Now I am a bit worried we will be getting her too much on her list, especially when you consider the generosity of my kind parents. Oh well. She can have bread and spit for her birthday.
Speaking of which, happy birthday to the husband for tomorrow. Today I love you because whenever we paint a room, you change over the stained, flickery power points. Much better than flowers.
|Last year it rained so much the clay became full as a boot so it leached under the house and made a swamp. Pumps are not keen on immersion.|