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Thursday, 30 November 2017

MY CHRISTMAS DIARY (THE GINGERBREAD MAN) BY FIONA CUMMINGS


A pleasant day has been had. I’m warm and safe. My dogs have been out with the kids for a walk along the riverside. They came back black. Well, Wagga even more black than what she is always. but They went in the river. Well, they would, if they didn’t have a leader on?  Boy Wonder and Sham cleaned them but I will have to go back out and give them another clean now they are drier. I put thick towels in their beds and I shall brush them spray them with doggy cologne and wash their towels later! They are shattered.

 

Kids are now out for dinner at a local pub. They have had a lovely day. As have our dogs.

 

I have finished all of my Christmas shopping; can you believe it? I can’t. All bought on line… How many more Christmas’s will I have in the dark? Will there be a Christmas one day when I can see to shop live? In the meanwhile, we do well. As best as we can anyway. We bought Hubs Dads gift last month. We got him a nice warm fleece from a good shop on line and a bottle of whisky. We may see him before or just after Christmas but if we don’t he has his present.

 

 I always spare a thought for those who have no one. Or those who do the same thing every year and for whatever reason this year, that can’t happen.

 

One day it will just be me and Hub for Christmas dinner, unless our Son always comes here but I’m sure there will be one day when he decides he will go to his future wife’s parents house, or, just stay at home with his kids. In a perfect world he will always come or be home for Christmas day.

 

Yesterday we spoke about Christmas cake. It got me wondering where does the cake originate from? This is what I read today in brief.

Christmas cake is an English tradition that began as plum porridge. People ate the porridge on Christmas Eve, using it to line their stomachs after a day of fasting.  Then they started to add honey, spices and dried fruit to the porridge and then it became over time, Christmas pudding. In the 16th century, the oatmeal was removed and wheat, flour eggs and butter were put in the mixture and it became a boiled plum cake.

 

Wealthy families who had ovens began to make fruit cakes and with marzipan an almond sugar paste, they kept them for Easter.

At Christmas they made the fruit cake with spices to represent what the wise men brought as gifts!

 

Christmas cakes normally made in November in a airtight tub kept upside down and fed alcohol. I have a few friends like that…

 Until Christmas then it’s time to decorate it with the delicious marzipan. My friend is making us a Christmas cake this year. I asked her to do so and said I will pay her for the ingredients as it’s expensive to buy everything. I so wish my Mum in law was alive still, for lots of reasons, but her cakes were so good.

 

 Oh, you are not going to believe this? We have a Christmas mouse. Every year we seem to get a mouse now. Thank God, it’s in the loft, but still, it’s too close for comfort. So, tonight Hub and our boy are going to set up a trap, Boy Wonder and I are animal lovers too as well as vegetarians. I just can’t stand mice, rats and wasps. So now to find a shoe box. You may remember the last time we had a mouse. You cut a hole in the side of a shoe box and lift the lid off, place the trap inside with some chocolate or cheese, put the lid back on and the mouse goes in the hole, snap, and you don’t have to look at the poor creature before putting it in the bin outside, OK, it’s an expensive way as the reusable traps can’t be used again as we really don’t want to handle the poor thing, so with the box it’s nice and concealed. I just pray I don’t hear the snap sound. Oh, my it’s horrid. Why do they keep coming? And moreover, how are they getting in? I’m paranoid about keeping doors closed in winter but the loft?

 

And tonight, we are putting another outdoor Christmas decoration up. It’s an angel. She lights up and hangs on the wall in our garden.

 

Boy Wonder has just shown me what he has his Dad for Christmas, he’s spoiling him, mind you, Hub spoils BW too. I can’t wait to tell you what we have bought him. I will do when Santa has delivered everything I have asked him to get. We never over spend beyond our means, for our Son, but what we get him is lovely. He isn’t a brat though, I know of a friend who’s grown up child always tells their parents that they wanted better and more… Personally, I just don’t know how two lovely people have ended up with such a child, but it’s sad as the kid will never be happy.

 

How to make your house smell lovely over Christmas in fact you can do this all year round.

 My lovely Blogget and friend Kelly got me thinking today, she has made playdough out of beautiful fragrances like Sinnamon and orange. Then with her children made ornaments. So, what else can we do to make our house smell lovely?

Simmer a pan of water with herbs in summer, you can use lavender and mint, or at Christmas time, cloves, oranges spices and Sinnamon

I buy the oil that you put in an oil burner I get the wax burners too the ones that smell of gingerbread. Talking of gingerbread, as we in the UK have had our ginger snapped up, as in Prince Harry’s engagement, I am obsessed by ginger… Not as in the hair colour but the smell, the word even for some reason always makes me think of Christmas. As I love gingerbread houses, biscuits and the real actual gingerbread man. I love the story

A little old lady and a little old man lived in a tiny quaint cottage near a river. One day the lady decided to bake a gingerbread man as they were both hungry.

 

She made a large batch of gingerbread dough then rolled it flat and cut it in the shape of a gingerbread man.  She gave it raisins for eyes, a Sinnamon drop for his mouth and chocolate chips for buttons.

 

When the gingerbread man was ready, the old lady opened the oven door and before she could do anything, the little man inside of her oven ran out through the kitchen and out of the door of the little cottage shouting don’t eat me. The old lady ran after him. The gingerbread man shouted “Run run as fast as you can. You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”” the little gingerbread man ran through the garden passing the old man. The old man shouted for the gingerbread man to stop saying I want to eat you.

 

The gingerbread man shouted. “I ran away from an old woman and I can run away from you too. Run run as fast as you can. You can’t catch me I’m the gingerbread man.””

 

Through the yard the gingerbread man passed a pig. The pig shouted. “Stop I want to eat you!”

“I’ve ran away from a little old woman and a old man and now I will run from you as I can run as fast as you can but you can’t catch me, I’m a gingerbread man.””

 

The pig chased the gingerbread man followed by the little old man and the little old woman ran as fast as they could but the gingerbread man was too fast for them.

 

He passed a cow who mood stop but the cow couldn’t catch the gingerbread man and then the gingerbread man passed a horse in the field who chased the gingerbread man followed by the cow, the pig and the little old woman and the old man.

  Then the gingerbread man came to the river and didn’t know how to swim. There was a sly fox who invited the gingerbread man to jump on his tail and he would swim across the river with him.

The gingerbread man did that and half way across the fox said to the gingerbread man. You are too heavy for my tail. Please can you jump onto my nose. The gingerbread man did so, being watched by the horse, the cow and the pig as well as the little old woman and man.

The fox opened his mouth and ate the gingerbread man.

The end…

 

Why couldn’t the gingerbread man just jump onto his back? I guess the story is not to trust anyone and, learn to swim? Haha.

 

 On that note, it’s snowing heavy outside our window. As in it’s laying. The Little Fella wasn’t impressed as for Waggatail, it’s like whatever. Seen this stuff before.

 

I checked the weather in Canada and it’s colder here than it is there.

Why did I check the weather there? Haha. I dream to live there one day. Or, Italy… Just saying!!

Stay warm and safe and next time you are baking gingerbread men, lock all your doors or, be prepared to run.

 

 

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