Christmas Day dawns cold but dry, so not officially a white Christmas but walking the dogs through snow covered Wollaton Park this morning it might as well be.
Presents are unwrapped, my parents arrive and then we head to the Plough for the traditional lunchtime tipple and leave the dogs guarding the goose. Sort of. Not that it’s going anywhere fast.
My attempted livening up of the pigs in blankets with sage, honey and black pepper doesn’t quite work, they taste just the same as usual but never mind, everyone seems to like them.
We are a more divided family on the Christmas pudding front. Christmas isn’t Christmas without rum sauce. Well that's my opinion. Anything else is sacrilege but Son has cream on his, L wants ice cream on hers. Some people. Daughter would probably have tomato sauce on hers if we let her but instead probably settles for a bit of everything.
(Saturday 25th December)