The goose is getting fat

Christmas is coming, and Jemima is getting fat. Not been to the gym in weeks due to a flurry of present purchasing, drinking and fretting. The family Christmas looms and it appears we may be doing it without a bath. My mother is having a new bathroom put in, but the person who was to plumb in the new bath has gone off work sick. Thoughts of a shower are far out of the picture, so I expect Christmas will be a rather smelly affair.

Today, though, I’m off with Sarah to Sarah’s parents house for the night. They live in the country, where the wild things are and public transport isn’t. I’m intrigued because Sarah has nice, relaxed family Christmases that I only thought existed in films. Apparently not everyone gets stressed out, has rows and bickers from Christmas Eve through to the day after boxing day. Hard to believe.

New Year’s Eve is an unknown at the moment. I have to acknowledge that NYE isn’t that important to me, and I’d be quite happy with a quiet night in. There’s been talk of clubbing the night away, but frankly it doesn’t appeal. Am I old now? The other thought was to have people round for a meal either on NYE or on New Year’s Day, when they’ll all want to nurse their hangovers. This does sound nice, but only if Sarah cooks. Ideas welcome.