Off To The Shops

22 degrees today, lovely. It is just the perfect temperature to go and do Xmas shopping, to get out and mingle with the great unwashed, on a day that promises to have us exposed to more of the general public than we’d ever feel comfortable with normally. Oo, I’m coming out in a rash just thinking about it. The people, the people, the people.

We drove to Box Hill midmorning and did all of our Xmas shopping. Neither of us have ever made Xmas dinner, let alone for seven people, so neither of us really knows what to do.

We bought turkey and pork and ham. We bought all the veggies, of course. I bought ingredients for raspberry trifle.

We can always get a car park at Box Hill whatever it’s called, Central, Box Hill Central. We parked in the cave, the huge expanse of a carpark  that is the bay under the old part of the centre. It is like a catacomb. A big, white underground cave, the only thing missing are the stalactites. 

We ate congee and turnip cake surrounded by people and shops. One of them being the Reject Shop, where we went and bought the remaining table Xmas decorations.

Despite it being Xmas time, the shops were manageable, not really awful as you’d probably expect them to be.

It was a sunny day.

We came home and smoked pot. Well, I did, more so than Sam, you understand. Of course, I did.

We’re both stressing about lunch tomorrow. Yeah, sure we are. Our first family lunch. It is stressful. 

I stewed some apples. You can never be without stewed apples. God’s food. I hear it was Jesus’ request for a final meal before he was popped up on that cross for easter. 

I did the washing. Clearing the decks for a home beautiful kind of on-show experience of which you want to be proud, even if it is just psychological. You feel better anyway, with clean undies. 

Sam spent a lot of time on the couch with his eyes closed building up his energy for the task ahead. He is going to cook it all, or course. I’ll help, but I’m not really the cook here, you understand. I guess it is quite a responsibility, your first family lunch and it’s not even for your own family, I’m guessing that is added pressure to get it right. I mean, if you are cooking for your own family, I’d think they would be much more forgiving, because you have a closer relationship to them, even if that thought is only in your own head. You know what I mean? That’s just kind of human nature, isn’t it?

I made the raspberry trifle.