Preparedness is all
Dec. 23rd, 2008 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceHee. I seem to be liveblogging my day...
I went out to collect my veggies, and thought en route that I might as well go to the shop and buy some redcurrant jelly, for my patent ham glaze; and so came home with redcurrant jelly and pickles (because of all these sammiches, obviously: I'd run out) and wine (just because) and chocolate biscuits (for obvious reasons) and a DVD box set, because sometimes one must just blow defiance in the face of the Catholic church: I has South Pacific and The King and I and Oklahoma, and I predict a mass singalonga sometime in the festive soon, because what after all could be gayer? I shall have all my gay families around, with their procreated children and all...
In the veggie bag: potatoes & onions & carrots & parsnips & brussels sprouts & cabbage & garlic & butternut squash & leeks & eggs & I'm not quite sure what more. Is a special Christmas bag; I am a special Christmas fairy. (*blows raspberry at Pope*)
Hmmm. D'you think this is rankling, at all? Whatever?
Now: I must make pies. Raised pies, filled with capon and ham and yummy meat jelly: and their name shall be birdpig pies, and they are of course forbidden to Popes, because I say so.
Also I must ice the cake, because I had forgotten, but it is indeed icecaking day. And glaze the ham and write the story and drink the wine - oh noes! - and prolly watch some TV. Not sure I dare read my book, as I don't have the next in sequence. Might have to buy it tomorrow. Buy! A book! Oh noes!! But what's a man to do, when the Lit & Phil lets him down? (Yes, yes, of course they have it; they just don't have it in. They have lent it. To somebody else. It's an outrage...)
I went out to collect my veggies, and thought en route that I might as well go to the shop and buy some redcurrant jelly, for my patent ham glaze; and so came home with redcurrant jelly and pickles (because of all these sammiches, obviously: I'd run out) and wine (just because) and chocolate biscuits (for obvious reasons) and a DVD box set, because sometimes one must just blow defiance in the face of the Catholic church: I has South Pacific and The King and I and Oklahoma, and I predict a mass singalonga sometime in the festive soon, because what after all could be gayer? I shall have all my gay families around, with their procreated children and all...
In the veggie bag: potatoes & onions & carrots & parsnips & brussels sprouts & cabbage & garlic & butternut squash & leeks & eggs & I'm not quite sure what more. Is a special Christmas bag; I am a special Christmas fairy. (*blows raspberry at Pope*)
Hmmm. D'you think this is rankling, at all? Whatever?
Now: I must make pies. Raised pies, filled with capon and ham and yummy meat jelly: and their name shall be birdpig pies, and they are of course forbidden to Popes, because I say so.
Also I must ice the cake, because I had forgotten, but it is indeed icecaking day. And glaze the ham and write the story and drink the wine - oh noes! - and prolly watch some TV. Not sure I dare read my book, as I don't have the next in sequence. Might have to buy it tomorrow. Buy! A book! Oh noes!! But what's a man to do, when the Lit & Phil lets him down? (Yes, yes, of course they have it; they just don't have it in. They have lent it. To somebody else. It's an outrage...)