We are betwixt and between Christmas and the New Year and this morning on our lovely frosty walk we decided “Twixtmas” was the best term to describe the 5 languid days between our two major festivities.
It does now seem to have become an actual thing – otherwise known as the Fallow or Romjul (the trendy Norwegian version) or The Chrimbo-Limbo. Call it what you will, it is a spectacularly good time to recover if you’re not having to rush back to work. To give your liver a teeny weeny break before the onset of New Year’s Eve and yet another hangover. A time when you can enjoy the Christmas twinkly lights without the stress of having to put them up or take them down. The emails and texts are minimal and all is peaceful in the ‘burbs with very little traffic to be seen. Fudge, Quality Streets, Celebrations and other chocolates of all shapes and sizes are still adorning my kitchen counters, so breakfast will be a mixture of the lot for the next few days.
I got an unusual selection of chocolate this year – from the sublime to the frankly revolting:-
My house is astonishingly quiet after all the chaos of Christmas as everybody suddenly disappeared yesterday morning and I was left sitting in a crumpled heap of wrapping paper feeling and looking pretty much the same. Not sure where the time went – we were in a flurry of events for days, starting with my son’s birthday and the arrival of my mother and it all just flew by to now become one big blur of Bailey’s, sparkling wine, Christmas hats, laughter, mess and additionally (in my case) a few embarrassing injuries after attempting the Cornflake game after a few too many drinks. Why do I always succumb to such silliness when I know the outcome will not be good? I really must remember to avoid that game at all costs next year because there are always much younger people in the room whose hamstrings and inner thigh muscles will cope with practically doing the splits unintentionally a lot better than mine will.
Overall it was a splendid Christmas, despite the too-ing and fro-ing my children had to do from one house to another. The sight of them all leaving on Christmas day in a car all together made my heart sink. All those precious packages in one car, disappearing out of sight to their father’s house for the night. Not a good moment, but after they called to say they had arrived safely and a bit more champagne I perked up. Christmas is in reality not easy for most families and we really must all try harder to not expect quite so much from the experience. There were lots of positives, despite the lack of my children and it was lovely to not have to cook for a change – just blinis and ham for Xmas breakfast and my annual fudge making. The rest was generously done by a friend at her house.
This was my favourite capture of all the activity, inside my son is holding his little cousin upside down, whilst my niece tests out her new space hopper in the garden:-
LOOK AT MY FUDGE BATCH THIS YEAR! Not bad at all….
By 11am on Boxing Day my children were all back safely with me anyway, so it wasn’t too long a time to miss them and then we had even more family and food arrive and yet another party started, so by the next day, these Abusive Balloons my brother bought me said it all:-
But a walk with friends in the park this morning brought me back to reality and a renewed sense of calm:-
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