such as: wrap presents, buy presents that I still haven’t bought, tidy the
lounge and the bathroom and the bedrooms and hoover throughout, defrost the
turkey, and the sausages, and the bacon, make stuffing and bread sauce, wrap
presents that I discover hidden in wardrobes, make STP, polish the silver, find
something to wear, wash and starch the tablecloths, finish proof-reading two
stories that are due to be posted Christmas Eve, boil chestnuts and peel them
for stuffing, panic about not having bought enough presents/potatoes/sausages,
go and buy more, panic about the amount I spent at ASDA yesterday, realise that
I haven’t got any frozen peas or bread or something to eat on Christmas Eve,
make a cheesecake, get some petrol in the car, queue up for hours at Booths to
buy the last few things that I think we will need and that no-one will really
want anyway, try to find room in the fridge for a de-frosting turkey in case the
cat decides that she really likes raw turkey after all, realise on Christmas Eve
that I haven’t got enough milk/cloves/onions/sage/toilet rolls, move the kitchen
table into the dining room so that everyone can sit down together, find the tin
of Roses chocolates that is hiding somewhere, help the spousal unit put the
garden table together in the kitchen and realise that it needs scrubbing, go
back to Booths to buy Crunchie ice-cream, drown my sorrows in a large glass of
red wine, wake up on Christmas Day and have a great day despite the lack of
Yorkshire puddings/peas/tea-towels/filo-pastry/advocaat/fresh cranberry
sauce/fresh dates/Jeremy Renner in my stocking/ Cadburys chocolate money
anywhere in the shops/snow.
Have a good pre-Christmas weekend everyone.
And I have just found another typo in one of the three Christmas UFO stories
I have finished. Sigh. BUT on a more postitive note, I finally completed a short
UFO story that I have been working on for nearly a year. Here’s an extract:
The house became still and silent apart from wood creaking asJackson
walked upstairs and the gentle sounds of the night filtering through the open
window in his bedroom. He undressed. There was not even a slight breeze to ease the heat. He went into the bathroom to refill his glass of water and leaned over the banister rail to check for sounds downstairs.
Nothing.