A little pre-Christmas panic

Okay, okay,  No, I can do this... Just breathe.....ahhhhhh. No, not like that, that makes me look as though I'm blowing out candles whilst massively constipated...

Ahhhhhh....

That's better.  Yes, as if my self-imposed calmness hadn't already alerted you, I have just realised that we have slipped, as if on a buttered banana skin, into the festive season - ie, sideways, arms flailing and shouting 'whhaaaaahhhhh!' It is that time of year again when we become inexplicably obsessed with getting that strange 'thing' off the back of the cooker that has been there since The Great Baking Incident of last May, steam cleaning the carpets and baffling the dog by attempting to dust down the back of his bed.  Never mind the buying, wrapping and dispersal of gifts, decorating the tree and sending the cards, Christmas, for me, is mostly associated with stain removal, dusting and other elements of housework which I am sure have names but with which I am insufficiently familiar to be able to identify.

Nope, no idea.  Anyway, yesterday was the day of our RNA Chapter Christmas meal, which took place at the home of the lovely Lynda Stacey. And her house is beautiful! It smelled of Christmas and had a trifle in it... I mean, the trifle was on the table, not like it was standing in the porch greeting allcomers, because that would be odd...but anyway TRIFLE, people!  I feel towards trifle much as I do towards HobNobs and Tony Robinson, although I mostly have my 'trifle feelings' around Christmas, whereas Tone and the HobNobs are pretty perennial.

So, anyway, there was trifle.  And crackers and hats.  And then I remember that, not only do I not have any trifle around for Christmas, I don't have any crackers. Or food. And I haven't dusted down the back of the dog's bed, and there's only ELEVEN DAYS TO GO - ten, if, like me, you stop counting on Christmas Eve and take to your bed with a sherry bottle and a family-sized pack of mince pies. The Day Job (hereafter known as TDJ. not to be confused with RDJ...

..because there are absolutely no points of symmetry AT ALL, sadly) ends on Friday, which gives me a total of five (or four, if you discount the 'day in bed with sherry') days to get everything done! And now I'm making that noise again, so, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and bake something random, whilst polishing the mop bucket, to give myself an air of control over the whole thing...