It is the shortest day of the year – my annus horribilis and as I nudge towards its end I can’t help but reflect on what a helluva year it’s been…not the sort of year I had planned for or hoped would ever happen. Probably just as well we don’t know what’s lying in store for us round every corner. I will certainly be glad to see the year out but am nervous of investing too much hope in the coming one. It’s still little steps…
I had my scans yesterday which will provide the evidence for what I imagine is my medical high point – being so close to the end of chemo…I will find out what that particular picture looks like a couple of weeks into January.
But…far more significant (in a short term way) is that the Christmas food shop will be delivered tomorrow morning. I have had a brief flurry with the current fridge contents to assess what space I can make available but we seem to have a bit of a champagne glut going on which, fortunately, is a problem that can be easily resolved.
We are “out” for Christmas dinner – although I am roasting and adding a goose to the festivities. Of course the whole joy (?) of the Christmas extravaganza is the leftovers. I am having to prepare the leftovers in a somewhat non traditional way of cooking some turkey especially so it is then “left over” for the Boxing Day sandwiches to accompany sausage rolls, stuffing, pickled onions and HP sauce – a house special!
I am looking forward to welcoming the turkey and goose to my fridge (or…as seems more likely the empty fridge of a neighbour). The madness can then all commence after I have had my first post-chemo treatment on Christmas Eve.