Sunday, December 25, 2011
Happy Birthday, baby Bejeebus
I'm lying on my bed with Padge, who is trying to sit on top of me so that I can dry the rain off him. We had a lovely sunny morning, and now we're having a lovely rainy afternoon.
I'm lying on my bed to rest off the Xmas Belly that I built up at lunchtime. We had a stray friend (I almost typed 'fiend') come and eat with us, and while we had a humble yet lavish spread of prawns, bbq'd chicken tikka, mushrooms stuffed with feta, potato salad and a couple of leafy green salads, we washed it down with three bottles of bubbly and followd through with Best Beloved's Authentic Christmas Pudding (the secret ingredient is cumquats) with custard and homemade vanilla icecream.
I got a few presents: a single-cup teapot for my new chai addiction (I'm not allowed to use our usual teapot because the flavour lingers, apparently; the latest Frank Moorhouse, Cold Light and Alison Bechdel's graphic novel autobiography, Fun Home, which I inhaled this morning before lunch and thoroughly enjoyed.
So here I lie, feeling bloated and thoroughly spoiled. I've talked to my son on the phone (how I wish he were here!) and my lovely parents (they'll be here in a couple of days, so I'm not so sooky about them).
And so I wish you all a wonderful Christmas. I hope it's fun-o-rama.