It's been more years than I care to tally that I have lived somewhere that has had a fireplace. Much of the year a fireplace is just a space which is decorated according to seasons, occasionally an actually fire may be lit but at Christmas time it becomes a place to hang the stockings with care and the best spot to leave a plate of cookies and milk for Saint Nick. Not having any stockings to hang, our work socks somehow just wouldn't be all that attractive, but I could leave a midnight treat for the jolly old soul. I remember as a kid coming downstairs early to find the plate empty, undeniable proof once again that Santa does exist.
Realizing that he's going to overload on sugar and dairy, I thought something more to his mature tastes. Scotch and a dish of peanuts. I'm not quite sure what Santa's route for this particular night may be but the scotch could be a welcome fortification to the task ahead or a welcome break from a job well done. Either way I think he will recall our chimney as a favourite.
Ken, our boss sent happy holiday wishes and said that he hoped Santa would find us at our new home. Well Ken he did, not only was there not a trace of scotch remaining or a single peanut left behind but also evidence that he is still using the same mode of transportation that obviously has served him well since 1823. Just outside on the deck was a antler. I can understand using the deck as a landing pad, the roof is very steep and clad in metal making for a rather slippery if not noisy landfall. The antler is not large, possibly from a reindeer in training?
Our cloudless blue skies have moved on and Christmas day began under a grey ceiling with a light covering of snow. I'm not preparing anything fancy for our dinner. The turkey is in the oven, potatoes and squash prepped, stuffing is in the turkey, dinner rolls going through a second rise, Drambuie caramel sauce ( for steamed pudding) made earlier in the week and tested on a dish of vanilla ice cream. This is what we call quality control. Passed with flying colours although might have to make more.
Not wanting to spoil our appetites we need something lite to tide us over till dinner. What about a nice pot of tea and fruitcake?
As the day worn on the gloomy clouds were pushed aside to revel the blue skies we have come to expect. A walk on the beach is beckoning.
The bird is still roasting but now the smells of turkey are competing with the scent of pine. Smells like Christmas. Time for some bubbly. Mike pops open a bottle as only a bottle of champagne can pop and we toast to the good life.
Till next week,
Heather & Mike
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