A Post of Appreciation for Christmas Dinners Gone By

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My name is Zoe, I am 32 years old, I have been married for 10 years, and on Tuesday I cooked my first Christmas Day dinner.

The fact is I never realised how much money and time Christmas Day meals cost. I have heard all the stories of headless chickens and stressful experiences, but having never done it for myself I simply never appreciated what goes into making Christmas Day food appear on the table.

So to Mum and Trinette (I know you both read my blog!). And Nan and Grandma (looking down from your place in Heaven). Thank you for all those Christmas dinners you have prepared and cooked for me. I know I said thank you at the time, every time (I was brought up well!), but now I have first hand experience of it myself I want to document my thanks again. You made it look so easy. I never even noticed you disappearing in and out of the kitchen, the oven bleeping every ten minutes signalling the next thing on the list, the juggling act between space in the fridge and in the oven. It all happened as if by magic.

I had visions of home made everything. I did manage to make my own mince pies, jam tarts, ice cream. Although I forgot to serve the ice cream (it’s yummy by the way, I have a bowl of it right now). I prepared all the vegetables myself (the rabbits prefer it that way!), including way too many parsnips. I attempted to decorate the Christmas Cake myself, but it didn’t quite turn out like the image I had in my head when I started. I’m not ashamed to admit I used a jar of cranberry sauce and a packet of stuffing mix, and that my turkey was a meat-only crown.

My Christmas Cake

But when it came to dinner everything was cooked fine. Just. The turkey was good, and there was plenty. I enjoyed it too – I quite liked all the planning and preparation, and I was pleased and happy when everyone said the meal was good and they’d had a nice day. Relieved and happy.

However there was so much going on, the list had to be followed so closely, that I never even took a photograph of my dinner table, my turkey dinner, or anyone opening their presents. Bad blogger!

Who’s cooking next year?!

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