I thought I'd got it sussed this year. All summer and autumn, my other half and I worked tirelessly picking fruit, making jam, and fermenting wine. Nice, stylish proper kitchen jars and bottles were bought from a classy shop, hampers were made, packed, and stored between August and November and very smart they looked too. There was plum jam, mint jelly, damson jam, and lilac, plum, pear, and damson wine.
Then I spotted this status on daughter No 2's Facebook profile : "I'm still reeling from the assasination attempt!!! Bottle of home brewed wine has exploded in me kitchen!! glass and bloody cork everywhere .... Any confessions to make ...????"
I have said before that the older kids get the more they break your heart but I obviously wouldn't have intended any harm and I'm actually quite mortified to think what might have happened if daughter No 2's family, including my one year old Grandaughter No 2, had been in the kitchen at the time of the explosion. Thank God they were not.
The incident frightened her so much, however, that she threw away a damn fine bottle of lilac. The jam and jelly seem to have hit the spot in a more pleasant way.
Daughter No 3 said the bottle of fizzy plum she also received in her hamper simply popped the cork from the bottle and nothing worse than flat wine resulted from that. Happily, there have been no other encounters with exploding wine and the hampers were well received. The lesson next year is not to use champagne yeast, we think, but as novices in all this, perhaps we should just send them out with a health warning.
The rest of our Christmas was lovely. My friend Lou came over on the day and joined me and my other half in eating, drinking and smoking, while Son No 1, stayed in his room and plugged into his computer.
Boxing Day was just as pleasant with a visit from my sister and her family, Daughter No1 and her fiancee, Daughter No 3 and Grandaughter No1 . Mulled wine all round the adults, and some nice munchies for the kids from a buffet made in Iceland and a lasagna made by eldest daughter who also contributed a very nice trifle.
Yesterday was peaceful heaven of eating, drinking, smoking, pampering, and then leaving for an evening get together at my mate Juliette's house to finish off Christmas leftovers. As soon as my other half struck up the engine of his car, something snapped, it whirred to a whisper and then it died. Begrudingly, he got into my car which was about as lively as a rabbit without duracell before the engine refused to turn over at all. There wasn't much that could be done last night but today all is well. My other half is simply a God. He can't save his car but he has sussed out what is wrong with mine and he has fixed it.