I have commissioned Mahri to bake me a cake because I don't think shop bought is quite the done thing for guests at Christmas-time. We negotiated terms yesterday as it turns out she usually only bakes cakes to be eaten by the slice with cups of tea at the village shop. But I am not a cake baker and I have lots of visitors coming over the next week, including four teenage nephews who I suspect will expect more than a biscuit with a cup of tea. Mahri is considering what type of cake she will bake me. All I know at this stage is that it will be filled with butter icing rather than cream, and will be ready for collection either on Wednesday or Thursday. I'm wondering if it would it be terribly deceitful to try and pass it off as homemade by yours truly?
The snow was so heavy yesterday I couldn't make it to the big carol service in the next village which was very disappointing as I was looking forward to mince pies with the vicar and some hearty renditions of Hark the Herald Angels Sing. I had planned to go with Dawn, Selina and Brian but they live up the hill and although Brian could put chains on his car tyres it was still felt too dangerous. On the other hand, we are expected to visit them for afternoon tea tomorrow. I suppose we can always walk up and then slide back down the hill on our backsides.
Gordon has become obsessed with fairy lights. Not only are there the two deer and the Christmas tree in the garden, but these were joined a few days ago by a second lit Christmas tree and twig-like shrubs planted along the footpath. Today I spotted him up a ladder hanging fairy lights all around the eaves of the garden shed. According to Jeanette, who is equally bemused by this explosion of fairy lights, he has now exhausted the supplies. At least my guests will have no difficulty finding us.
Today was the day of the Big Supermarket shop. First I had to find my car:
I also have plans to go to House of Bruar, our local equivalent of David Jones or Fortnum & Mason Foodhall, to buy some extra special bits and pieces. They sell bite-sized haggis which I plan to hand out as canapes with evening drinks and pass off as meatballs, otherwise the sassenachs from England will refuse to eat them. However, with the snow we have been experiencing I may have to postpone this trip as the store is a good hour's drive across the moors, along a back road that is currently even snowier and icier than here. So they may get meatballs after all - I suppose I can pretend these are haggis?
It was the last Clicking Needles yesterday. We have made 60 hats for premature babies which are being delivered to the the hospital tomorrow. We celebrated with sherry, a cup of tea (of course) and Christmas cake, which was a good idea to warm us up because the heating had been turned off:
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