We'd been going to have dead hen for supper but it hasn't defrosted yet in spite of me taking it out of the freezer feckin' hours ago...before you all leap up and down and say 'but I thought you didn't eat meat ' I do eat dead hen occasionally...
It's been lovely today altogether...sunshine all day long and not one single drop of rain...yet. Mind you, it was chilly...I ensconced myself in my shed and put two bars of the halogen heater on, just hope it isn't gobbling too much lecky...I'd gone in there prepared by wearing two pairs of fleecy pyjama bottoms plus a polo-necked sweater which made me itch and a long frock thing on top of everything...and my fluffy pretend fur slippers which are bright purple and more like boots. Must have looked quite scary, so it's just as well the children didn't venture down today otherwise they'd have thought it was still Halloween.
Some of the family on Facebook have been making the most of this weekend with bonfires and fireworks for Guy Fawkes Night on the 5th and Halloween parties and such-like as well. We don't celebrate Guy Fawkes here in Ireland of course...though I'm unsure whether the word ought to be celebrate when the poor man was hanged ,drawn and quartered...
When I was a child Father would buy a small box of assorted fireworks...Catherine Wheels he'd nail to the fence that would go round twice and fizzle out...Roman Candles which always looked as though they meant business but after a small spurt of colour used to go the way of the Catherine Wheels and die quietly...there'd be a couple of rockets which usually worked...they were put into a milk bottle in the middle of the garden and we were told to stand right back while Father approached them with trepidation and a lighted spill.
Then my little brother and I would stand very still and hold a sparkler at arm's length before we poked it into the soil and went indoors, actually quite thankful the yearly ritual was over and we could get warm again...
Fireworks are banned here in the Republic unless it's a proper public display...so everyone goes into the North to buy theirs for their back gardens. Next door neighbours two houses down have a lovely display actually...masses of rockets that last for ages and emit high pitched squeals as they go up and those seriously pretty ones that explode over and over again in showers of sparkly lights...
Then it's Thanksgiving...I shall view that day with a jaundiced eye after delving into the history...and after that it's Christmas...another time I look at in a different light as I add another birthday to the count towards becoming ancient...
So, for a couple of months we're stuffed with holidays and celebrations and eating and that sort of thing. There is no obligation of course to participate in any of them...not if you choose not to. Our Christmas is slowly going the way I'd prefer...expensive gifts to all and sundry are a thing of the past and enormous trees shedding oodles of needles everywhere are banned...not that we could fit an enormous tree into our sitting room now even if we wanted to. Our Christmas card list has been whittled down and Himself has vowed to never murder a home reared turkey ever again even if his life depended upon it...
Now, either I cook a semi thawed mass produced chicken which is probably riddled with salmonella or poke about in the cupboard to see what I can rustle up from whatever lies within...