The dog ate off the Denby…

I blinked

and the strangest of Christmas’s smoothly unwrapped itself

and as quickly dematerialised.

Mirage?

Dream?

Weeks of precise technical planning

and dog sitting smelling shopping bags

upon re-entry into the h O me ZONE,

seams bulging with exotic foodstuffs

elevating a tired fridge/ freezer

to stately status for a day!

********************

The Spirit of festive expectations flew out the window

into a warm, balmy, El Niño- induced Winter wind

and Christmas Supper replaced Christmas Dinner.

The merry organ played at midnight mass

with sweet singing in the choir

and as traditions snapped in two all around…

my Spirit breathed a new found freedom,

for “I” did not partake in either this year!?!?

Boxing Day became Christmas Day,

Spirit of Christmas Past arriving through the front door,

as “Boxes” were exchanged

and a seasonal handful of goodwill sprinkled on All.

Ho, Ho Oh and burn the Yuletide log!

********************

After copious mind- bending, logistical cerebral acrobatics,

juggling cooker shelves and cooking times

and cuisine for vegetarians/ meat-eaters…

amid a complexity of tantalising smells and expectant tastes

and family dog strategically positioned under table…

PHEW!

Service was called and Boxing Dinner was served.

Tastebuds danced a frenzied tango,

glasses clinked multiple rhythmic salutations

and a sharp jagged crunching was heard

wafting from under table as…

Bonnie ate her Christmas crackling off the Denby!

 

 ********************

Denby: English Pottery in Derbyshire producing fine upmarket tableware, not the sort of crockery I use every day.

 

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