Not Christmas As We Have Known It
I just worked out that this will be my thirty sixth Christmas as a proper grownup with my own kitchen and my own peccadilloes but only the second time someone else has cooked dinner. Two dinners, actually, because on December 20th my youngest daughter is heroically gathering together and feeding all those who will be scattered on the 25th. I nominate her for my Roasting Pan of the Year Award.
Then on Christmas Day we will be fed by our dear friend Michelle, no slouch herself in the Peeling, Dicing and Basting department and an indefatigable creator of beautiful parties. I confidently nominate her for Table Decoration of the Decade and predict she will do something wonderful involving pomegranates. I can only offer to be a most appreciative guest. And to load the dishwasher.
These twin blessings will liberate me to enjoy Christmas Eve without sweat on my brow or uncharitable thoughts about men and shopping. Instead I will be serving tea and cake and watching for the first evening star to appear. Times, they are a’changing.