Christmas with bells on

What do I most look forward to at Christmas?

Well for one it's not receiving the credit card bill in the post...

My stress levels continue to rise throughout December whilst I glare and mutter at the grid locked car parks in town trying in vain to either find a space or leave the blimmin place.  Only when safely inside my metal box do I rant though - giving all the expletives I've ever known a right old airing.  The queues at the tills once inside the shops are the same, only a little more up close and personal.  A rugby scrum without the ball.

I find the challenge of trying to think of imaginative gifts that cost a fiver but look like I've spent £30.00 gets more difficult year on year.

I don't like wrapping presents either... I'm afraid it's cutting erratically, wrestling with the sellotape, slapping on a label.  Job done.  The quality is never very good but definitely degrades as time goes on. 

Other things that make my festive cup runneth over include unravelling the tree lights and then trying to 'artistically' wrap them around the tree without losing all the needles in the process.

Writing hundreds of cards, some with unreadable hand scripted notes and then going bankrupt sending them all.

Reading others' computer generated and generic round robins to find they are living the perfect life, with perfect homes, A* grade children and at least three exotic and expensive holidays to write reams about (photos included - just to prove it).

Smiling inanely as I open my fifth present containing notelets.

Playing the obligatory round of charades - I find it difficult to hold my stomach in so it looks flat(ish) from all the angles.

Strangely, removing all the cards, tree and decorations after the event. The house always seems so bare and empty afterwards and it hits me that there's only the rest of January to look forward to. Oh joy.

Why do we do it? 

For me, G11's smile is probably why.



I can't find a recent photo of G11 (I'm always too busy just watching her face)
so instead here is the smallest member of our family enjoying Christmas.

Dog cruelty?

G11 has made some rather delicious dog biscuits crammed full of bacon.  The dog knows this as she was present through the whole cooking process.  Topsy really can't fathom out why she can't wolf them all down now and refuses to leave the kitchen whilst the darn things continually tantalise her as they cool.

Unfortunately G11 and her BFF H10 are focused young fund raisers for the Dogs Trust and are baking in earnest to sell doggy treats at a local fayre.

So I'm afraid Topsy Dog, that one little taster titbit was your lot. 

Come to me, come to me.

Dog 'thinks' she has won the war.

 

Finally, I've managed to sit on the couch.






No Man's Land

When either J, G10 or myself are out, Topsy likes to sit on the curve of the stairs.  This is so she can wait and watch for the door at the same time.  Only when we are back altogether again will she join us and sit in front of the fire in the snug.

A family dog.

The Gallery: Chilled out

I'm the opposite of chilled out today.  Life is one big blur at the moment; balancing work, granny care, child care & domestic chores whilst Her and Him Next Door have a few well deserved days away. 

For me, no first gear, 120mph all the way.  So my contribution is from the dog, she always manages to relax and chill - I should learn a lesson from her. 

Here is an older photograph, showing just how she can sleep anywhere.  I'd put the dog's bed outside to air and leant it upright against the back of the garden chair, out of reach (or so I thought) of anything with a tail and four legs.  But here I found her.  Oh for a dog's life.


"Funny, I've got exactly the same bed inside..."

Head over to The Gallery and see what other people do to chill out.

Cooking

Hmmm, I don't.  But G9 wanted to do some baking this morning and I thought why not.  Especially as it was for the dog... what could go wrong?

Now my friend Preseli Mags cooks like a demon, go to her blog Cooking is a Game You Can Eat to see some of her amazing culinary feats.

I thought I'd aim a little lower and picked a recipe from Canine Cuisine by Elaine Everest.

Ingredients

• 6 streaky bacon rashers (you can use bacon off cuts).
• 2 mugs of wholemeal flour.
• 1/4 mug of grated Parmesan cheese.
• 1/2 mug of warm water.
• 1 egg
• 1 vegetable stock cube.

Preheat oven to 190C, gas mark 5.

We actually halved the above as we have a small dog; the quantity we used made 12 heart shaped biscuits.



Grating the cheese.

We fried the bacon in a non-stick pan until cooked but not brown or crispy.



Hey, is that bacon up there I can smell?

Once the bacon had cooled down I blitzed it in the blender.

Then we put the sieved flour (which ended up being strong brown flour because that's what we had in the cupboard), blitzed bacon and grated cheese into a mixing bowl.  We used Cheddar as J thought expensive Parmesan cheese for the dog was an extravagance too far.  We crumbled the stock cube in warm water (chicken in our case) and stirred until dissolved.  G9 beat the egg into submission and added half to the mixing bowl, gradually adding the stock until the dough was firm.

G9 floured the worktop and rolled the dough out to about an inch thickness.  Then she cut the biscuits out in little heart shapes (no other shape will do).


I can smell something, now where are they?

We baked for about 40 minutes on a non-stick tray; or bake until brown and crispy.

We then put them on a trivet to cool, and packed them to store in an air tight container.


The finished product - they look good enough to eat.

Although G9 and J tried one (greedy gannets), I think the dog preferred them....


Please, please... don't tease... gimme gimme!

I quite enjoyed it... but I think I'll still leave the cooking to J.

Living the "high" life

I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it's not the answer.  ~Jim Carrey

Maybe it is the little, almost insubstantial things that matter.  And, to boot, they really don't have to cost much.

Thursday I helped out at the local Adran (after school Welsh club) at Maenclochog Hall. I was not being philanthropic, it was just my turn. I did though understand what was going on, a little, which was a minor breakthrough.

Friday night involved a Bingo evening at Maenclochog Hall again, this time to raise funds for the school.  I felt part of the community.  All inclusive.  Warm.  And it was fun.

Saturday Topsy and Scamp (who owns Preseli Mags) are going to get together for their first doggy date and I for one can't wait. It's almost like G9's first day at school. Simply daft I know, but we are taking a picnic and making a day of it. It's going to be a sunny day, so we will appreciate the soft warmth on our faces after such a bitter winter.

Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.  ~Grandma Moses

Scamp; really enjoying the moment.

Just as I was about to publish this post, I learned that a neighbour of ours has a brain tumour.  The outlook is not good.  He does not know yet, but his wife does.  It is so tragic.  It drove home that in life there is nothing so valuable, nor so undervalued, as our health.  Please pray (to whoever you conceive Him to be) for them both.

The Teenage Attitude

Imagine this, I have a mug, letters and the kettle in my hands.  Yelling for Topsy to follow me out of the door - like now, so I can start work.  I'm already late.

Not on your nelly. 

I do an odd little dance.  As my hands are full my legs make frog like movements to encourage her to come on and I pull a myriad of coaxing faces.  Nothing doing. 

Topsy is terrible in the mornings and likes to stay in her pit for as long as possible.  Instead of leaping out of bed like a young dog should, she gazes up at me, rolls onto her back and emits the vibe of, "get me out of here if you can."

Hmmmm; Dog 1 - Human 0.

Topsy - dog with attitude.