The cookies were so inviting...and...if we were ever to face a siege "herself" might be glad there there is a store of food reserves. Getting them into the beds wasn't a problem, nor the ones that I put under the rug...it was the pile of freshly laundered and folded towels that presented the greatest challenge. Maybe I should have given up - but that's not in my nature. Maybe I should have asked for help - but there was no one around. Maybe I should have had a wee sleep - but you can do that anytime. No, I was determined to conceal the last biscuit under the bottom towel - and that's when the entire stack came down upon me! And of course I then had to investigate each towel in turn to make sure that it was folded properly.... You can imagine the rest!
So I'm in the doghouse.
Ah well...it gives me time to think, and Advent seems to be a whole lot about thinking. As far as I'm concerned the thinking is frequently about food. Not the symbolism of the mince pie, orginally in the shape of a manger, but of the wonderful flavour. It seems that it was a backward step though to change the filling from savoury to sweet. Don't get me wrong...I love both, but the meat might just have the edge.
Must have a nose around and see if anything else has been left out for me...I'm smelling a Christmas Pudding somewhere...or is it Preacher's Punch getting ready for Sunday night after the Nine Lessons and Carols...
2 comments:
Oh dear, Eliot, I think this might fall within the category of "works of darkness", especially if you had a towel over your head and couldn't see what you were doing
But the light is coming...
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