I went shopping this afternoon, with the outline of a plan in mind.
We now have a turkey crown in the freezer which claims to serve 6-8. It should do for three plus sandwiches. The pigs in blankets are next to it.
The gammon and smoked salmon are in the fridge with sufficient shelf life to last until Christmas.
We have stollen, we have nuts and we have seaweed crackers.
I already, as reported, have the cheese footballs.
That is it.
Christmas is in the bag. There are a few things left, but the essentials are in place and we are ready to go. I’m beyond worrying about the quality of the turkey – all I want is a stress-free Christmas and now we have the essentials there is no stress. It won’t be the best turkey we’ve ever had, but it’s in the freezer and Christmas dinner is guaranteed. It might be badly cooked, or burned, but it will be a traditional turkey disaster, and I will have done my job.
At one time I used to shop for a siege, but the shops will be open on Boxing Day so there really is no need to stock up. I may put some bread in the freezer, but that’s the limit of my extra buying.
Cards are delivered or in the post and a few small gifts for my co-workers are in place.
It is now 9.00 and Julia has just come back from seeing a neighbour. I am going to serve the evening meal now and bask in the smug satisfaction of knowing that if Christmas were to be moved forward, I am ready.
And as I write that I realise I haven’t bought the cheese…
The pictures are minisheets of stamps – an extra way of making collectors buy more. They are buses, the Royal Family, Industrial Archaeology and Edward Lear. If we have room we just stick them on envelopes complete. Yesterdays’s collection is today’s postage, just as yesterday’s news is today’s chip wrapper.
Today’s poem is a cheery number that repeats that thought, though more elegantly, and with much more Latin than is usual in one of my posts.
Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam
Ernest Dowson
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.
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Love the poem! I have done some of my food shopping and meal planning but not all and applaud you heartily! We have six for lunch on Christmas Day and Boxing Day – Christmas Day is sorted, except for the vegetables but I’m still not sure what to do on Boxing Day.
My Boxing Day options are turkey sandwiches, gammon, or that perpetual favourite “If you think you can do better, do it yourself!” 🙂
I like that last option! 😀
🙂
I enjoyed the poem, Quercus.
Sounds like you are well-provisioned for Christmas, except for the cheese. All the best to both of you!
I’m planning a trip to the dairy tomorrow. We live in the Stilton Cheese Belt. 🙂
Fortunately I have an excellent Maintenance Department – all I have to do is render the occasional minimal assistance. Well done you.
I’m currently encouraging Julia’s gym habit because the fitter she is, thye better my dotage will be. 🙂
love the poem and well done on the organisation, reminds me to get a move on.
The radio reminded me it is only a week until Christmas Eve. Where does it go?
Wonderful last line! And bravo for getting the shopping done. What a good feeling! Look
Tomorrow I’m going to visit the dairy and buy cheese. 🙂
A fine poem but as I have no expectation of an afterlife, I am hoping that the days of wine and roses will be endless.
Well done in getting Christmas licked into shape although the lack of cheese is worrying. We are starting to think about Christmas tomorrow.
Yes, the cheese was a serious omission. I’m slightly unsettled by the frailty of my mind which allowed such a serious lapse.
Good luck with your preparations.
The frailty was probably caused by cheese deficiency.
I’m off to Cropwell Bishop tomorrow – cheese straight from the dairy. 🙂 Then in the afternoon I’m off to the dentist. 🙁
Congratulations on your Christmas prep! I am knee deep and sinking in mine.
I haven’t been out here in a while – are you now writing and publishing a poem every post?
This one is wonderful, wherever it came from.
It’s a new thing – currently on day 3. I may well run out of inspiration by Christmas.
The trick to getting ready for Christmas is to adopt low standards and stick to them. 🙂
Oh, bravo on the poem!
🙂 Glad you liked it. Dowson is a bit unsavoury, Drank himself to death at 32 and tried to marry a fifteen year old when he was 27. But he could write.