Alis Grave Nil

Thursday, 15 December 2011

Christmas chez Printemps

Now that most of our building work is finished, we can finally start thinking about Christmas. Roberto will no doubt announce the night before Christmas Eve that we are going into Hull in the morning so that he can buy my Christmas present.  This happened last year, but to be honest, mes amis, it was actually quite magical.  The snow and ice were still lying as we ventured into Hull at 7.30 am on Christmas Eve morning.  It started to snow again as we arrived but the town was quiet, hardly anyone around.  We went round the department stores to get my perfume for Christmas but could we heck as find the aftershave that Roberto wanted.  He likes the same one that Keith Richards uses.  He will kill me for telling you all this, but he also has the same watch as Keith Richards (his every day watch, that is).  Roberto was a bit disappointed that we couldn't find his aftershave, so he suggested a trip into York in the afternoon.  I said, "Christmas Eve, York, snow and ice all over the roads?  I don't think so Roberto".  "Okay", he said, "I'll settle for Old Spice until after Christmas".  Result!

Christmas Eve is my day of preparation.  I get everything ready, peeled, chopped, stuffed etc, so I can just fling it all into the oven on Christmas morning.  I make my trifles, one for me and one for our friend William.   This has become our little tradition.  Both William and I hate Christmas pudding - bleurgh!- and love trifle sans sherry.  I love Christmas Eve, especially if there's an old film on TV in the afternoon, like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.  I  have a little sniffle when  Dick Van Dyke sings Hushabye Mountain to the kids who are being kept prisoner under the castle.  Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without a little sniffle at Hushabye Mountain. 

Christmas chez Printemps is a relatively quiet affair.  It's just myself, Roberto, a 6 kg turkey and Michael Buble singing his Christmas songs.  We used to invite Roberto's elderly aunt until her attempted suicide by a deliberate overdose of paracetamol and morphine (in our house!!) in 2008 and our Christmas and New Year was spent in and out of hospital visiting her.  Please don't feel sad and think she was a poor little old dear.  As soon as she came out of the hospital, she was sitting up in bed putting rollers in her hair so she would look nice for her visit to her own doctor the next day and telling all her friends on the phone that we were keeping her prisoner.  Suicidal, my a**e!.....More fruitcake, anyone?

Anyway, mes amis, I must dash.  I have much to do.  I have to hang up new curtains in my new living room, light the wood burning stove and then sprinkle fairy dust liberally round my house and make some Christmas magic. 

A tout a l'heure, chers amis.

No comments:

Post a Comment