Listening to: Corelli
Reading: Nicola Slade, Scuba Dancing (enjoyed)
I spent yesterday obsessively checking the weather forecast. Kids, at dinner: ‘Dad, it’s going to snow tomorrow. Are you taking us to school?’ DH: ‘No, your mother is.’ He waited until they looked utterly shocked, then added, ‘It was meant to snow for six hours today. It was sunny all day. The roads are NOT that bad. I salted the road from our house to the junction. She will be fine.’
I might’ve whimpered at that point, because he relented enough to say that if it got any worse, he’d do the afternoon school run. Oh, boy. Going to be Corelli in the car, and absolute silence from the kids while I negotiate the hill.
Daughter spent yesterday morning looking through her recipe books. I bought her the Aussie Women’s Weekly cookbook for kids as an extra Christmas pressie; she’s been a bit grumpy about losing a recipe for gingerbread (from a novel she read last year), so was very pleased to discover a nice gingerbread recipe in her new book. So then she nagged until I agreed to do it with her. We made gingerbread reindeer. (Thought of my ed. When we were, ahem, discussing the reindeer in Temporary Boss, Permanent Mistress, she promised I could have reindeer in my next Christmas med. Guess what I’m due to start writing on Saturday?)
This is the end result. (Baking, I mean. Haven't started writing the Med, yet.)
And I can confirm that the reindeer tastes as nice as it looks. Not beating self up about scoffing forbidden food, though, as the scales yesterday morning said that all the Christmas weight gain has gone. (That’s ‘actual Christmas’ weight gain. The ‘early Christmas’ weight gain has yet to go, but I will be good for the rest of the week. And all the calories in said reindeer are probably being burned off in nervous energy as my fingers fly across the keyboard, checking the weather forecast.)
Not visiting Dad today because (a) I have the sniffles, and it’d be unfair to spread it to elderly people with a low immune system (meaning they’d have a far worse version of it than I have – I can cope with judicious use of lemsips and tissues) and (b) the road to the nursing home is single track and there are no hedgerows, so it’s going to be horribly icy and not worth the risk. Not sure about guitar, either: depends on the weather. Excuse me while I just go and check the BBC and Met Office websites…