I refuse to even consider what the election results will mean. Sufficient unto the day is the sorrow therein. I reckon it is a just retribution for all the mockery we heaped upon our neighbours over the pond after their election results a few years back. We should have held our tongues - look who's laughing now. (Not I)
I've also stayed off twitter and facebook, and kept the TV switched off. I'm wounded already, no need to add salt.
So now for something completely different;
There now. Isn't that pretty? It is this year's Jacquie Lawson calendar, and I have made snowflakes and decorated wreaths and iced biscuits and and made jigsaw puzzles and completed word searches and played 'hunt the sheep'. How lovely. All to the accompaniment of gentle happy Christmas music.
And breathe.
Only eight more lessons left to teach, tomorrow morning, and one drumming worksjop to lead, this evening.
Last night I prepared a batch of Delia Smith's mincemeat. It is an excellent recipe; you mix everything up, and then, the next day (as in this morning) cook it very gently for three hours, so that all the fat melts. Now I have to remember to stir it every so often as it cools, so that every ingredient gets coated evenly in the suet (proper beef suet in this household), before packing it into jars. It seems to keep from one year to the next, and beyond, without spoiling or drying out.
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