What do you mean the kitchen is on fire?
Posted in Attempts to be domestic, Blog, In response to.... by: Lottie(My last Christmas post…probably…for a few days anyway)
While I generally spend six months of the year praying for snow on the 25th, my other half is not a fan of Christmas. He would rather be sitting beside a pool, sipping back on Margaritas and getting a tan. But bless his soul, he has always gritted his teeth and let me have my Christmas at home. How he copes with Christmas seems to be that he becomes blissfully unaware of all the madness. I’m always kinda envious of this.
As a couple, one of the most stressful times over Christmas has always been trying to divide our time between the families and we have spent many Christmas days apart over the last few years in the aid of a quieter life.
In 2006 we decided to have our first Christmas dinner in our own house and both families came to ours. The first and most important benefit of this was that I could drink without the worry of having to drive. I have discovered that alcohol is of great benefit in such situations.
Weeks before I was running around choice selecting primmest vegetable, ordering deserts, organising this and that. Did you know there was over 90 ways in which to fold a napkin? The decisions were just overwhelming. There were reminders and post-it notes adorning every free space. Occasionally D would raise an eye brow to a stack of books, cast a look of bewilderment at “Perfect Ice-Sculptures for your Home” and reluctantly go back to cutting out perfectly symmetrical snowflakes with a toe-nail scissors.
He obviously didn’t catch that episode of Nigella’s Christmas Kitchen where Nigella swoops off to Austria in her private plane to pick up some exemplary stollen before breezing home to find one gorgeous taffeta clad child stir farthings into a pudding mix while another plays the viola.
Well I saw it and I wanted Nigellas Christmas.

Then of course I realised that a small apartment kitchen could not easily facilitate dinner for 14 and I reluctantly set aside my pride and asked the mammies for help. So what if they cooked the meat, the main component of any dinner, I could still claim credit right? I mean, the table looked beautiful.
Everyone arrived, cheerful and I think happy not to have to do the dinner in their own house for once and it was such a great day. My Grandmother took everyone for whatever they had at Poker and even when my sore loser of a sister suggested Snap, the Nan’s arthritis was no match for her competitive spirit. We played Monopoly and reminisced into the wee hours and it is now one of my fondest Christmas memories.
We had pulled it off with very few hitches I was exhausted . I don’t know how people do that every year. This year we are spending Christmas dinner with our friend Bumbery, who is in a very poor state of health and this may well be his last Christmas.


