Hold on a sec while I go and take sausage meat and pigs in blankets out of the freezer…….Thanks for waiting.
That wouldn’t be good – Christmas dinner with no pigs in blankets or sausage meat stuffing. So it’s all ready, shopping done days ago, presents wrapped, house cleaned, trimmed up and ready to receive a stream of visitors. I love Christmas. All we need now is a nice blanket of snow and it’ll all be just perfect. Not much chance of a white Crimbo this year though with temperatures at 10 degrees, rain and blustery winds. I hope Rudolph doesn’t get blown off course! But just in case he does I have a nice little stash of pressies upstairs that might find their way under our tree.
It’s a peculiar thing about Christmas. During the last few days when people are out shopping, there is always a different atmosphere in the air. I always find that people are friendlier, smilier and more polite – far more inclined to wait and hold a door open for you than at any other time of year when they’d probably let it drop in your face. You can hear, “Happy Christmas” , “All the best” and other greetings to and from people who would hardly get a nod at any other time of year. Even a total stranger with a trolley laden with all sorts of goodies and crossing the car park at the same time as me cheerfully wished me a happy Christmas. Seriously. What’s not to love about Christmas? I really does have a touch of magic about it.
The plan for today is to make a start on tomorrow’s feast. I’m making Boofuls some parsnip and apple soup because he won’t like the starter the rest of us are having. This year we aren’t having the traditional smoked salmon and prawns. This year we’re having king prawns wrapped in bacon and fried in garlic butter. Ok, I know it’s not the healthiest option, more of a heart attack on a plate but I’m working on the basis that since I eat healthily 99…98…..better make that 85% of the time I’m not going to worry about it. I’ll cook the turkey today so I don’t need to try and do it after our annual champagne and croissant breakfast at bezzie mates in the morning. Hic.
I think I might make the root veg mash as well today as well as the traditional sherry trifle. OH! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the waaaaaaaay!!!
The other day, Gembolina, Lashes and me took the clingons to a huge garden centre known for it’s fabulous Christmas displays. We weren’t disappointed. It was A-MAZ-ING! Dancing snowmen! Polar bears! We were giddy with excitement.
Here’s of picture of our gorgeous granddaughters. It was Batty’s birthday yesterday. Aaaw I remember vividly the day she was born. Due on Millennium day, she was a bit early and greeted everyone by projectile vomiting on them. That was the start of six weeks in the special care unit but just look at her now, a gorgeous and confident young lady. I wish there were words to adequately describe how much I love my family. Sigh (wipes away tears of pride).
I was chatting with Paprika Furstenberg ( go and have a read, she’s a funny, funny lady) via the comment box the other day about accents and words that are peculiar to our own countries. Apparently her favourite English work is ‘gobsmacked’ good call. I was a bit gobsmacked when I discovered that.
Just as a little seasonal gift to her I am going to expand her knowledge of Lancashire dialect, courtesy of our nearest neighbour, the Lanky born and bred farmer or as he says it ‘furmer’, who even occasionally has me guessing as to what he’s actually meaning.
So here we go:
Saying: Am a feart.
Have you worked out what it means yet? If not I’ll give you the answer at the end.
When it’s said out loud it sounds remarkably like ‘I’m a Fiat.’
So in the absence of auditory clues you need to be looking for visual and contextual clues. If the person in question is holding up their arms to chest height as if holding a steering wheel and running round the room saying ‘brum brum’ then they probably do mean, ‘I’m a Fiat’ in which case a call to the nearest mental health facility might be in order, unless they are four years of age, then it’s entirely appropriate.
If however, they are standing in front of you white faced, shaking, with their eyes as wide as saucers and rolling round in their heads then they probably mean, “Ahm a feart.’
Got it yet?
Meaning: I’m scared.
Tune in for another Lanky dialect lesson soon.
Happy Christmas everyone. Just to get you in the mood, here are a couple of photos of Mrs Woofy in her Christmas scarf from when it was snowing last week.