Today is our first Christmas celebration, with my mom. I'm finding it hard to be festive when I'm operating on so little sleep, though. Endorphins and caffeine are not sufficient to replace several uninterrupted hours at a time. I'm not a crackpot philosopher. I don't need to see every hour of the clock to know that they exist.
I just pulled a Christmas pudding out of the back of the fridge. It's been there for more than a year, and it's absolutely fine. It's a testament to the power of cherry brandy and sheer density to keep foods good. (I should have put it in the freezer after it wasn't used last Christmas, but forgot.) There are two more puddings in the freezer - one for Christmas day, and one for New Year's. Next year I need to make more. Puddingfest, here we come!
I have some wrapping to do, and a white sauce to make, and summerfields
to see. They flew in yesterday evening, and other than some missing luggage, all is well. Missing luggage seems like a small thing when they almost didn't get here at all.
In the last twenty-four hours, Claire has learned to point, and travel between rooms. She's heading for the kitchen now, very purposefully. *goes to check that the cupboards are locked*