It wasn't until I didn't receive any comments on yesterday's post that I realised I didn't write one. So many things have a surprisingly simple explanation.
Al has done a fabulous Nativity scene for the shop window, for tonight's Switching On of the Lights. There will be a lantern procession and dancing and the town crier and all sorts of jollities. I won't be going, I'm afraid, as I have a meeting tonight (actually, I've got two and I could make them both but someone else has kindly said he will represent me at one of them, which means I'll have time for a meal this evening) but I will try to nip in after he closes, to take a picture. His outside display means that I can't get a good angle and it will look better lit up anyway.
His shallot and onion skin angel is something to behold. He said he looked through a whole bag of shallots to find one with the perfect skin. And his dumpy little Aubergine Mary is marvellous, as are the cauliflower sheep ... no, I won't describe any more. I'll show you. If I get in to take the photos.
The children spent the day with me yesterday. They were charming. I gave them breakfast, supervised their dressing themselves, then they helped me put on make-up, played politely together while I had my breakfast, then we did this'n'that for a while, before deciding to make cakes. It got quite annoying when I took the cakes out of the oven. I'd just started to put them on the rack when the phone rang. When I finished with that call, the cakes weren't so easy to get out of the bun tins, but I was managing reasonably well without losing many bits, when the phone rang again. When that call was finished with, the rest of the cakes had cooled and came out in pieces. Still, they needed sampling as a quality test, so it wasn't too much bother. I cooked their lunch (fish fingers, chips and sweetcorn - yes I know, darlings, not even a pretence at goujons. Plain Birds Eye fish fingers. They ate two each. Squiffany had a couple of chips and some corn, but Pugsley didn't. They both tend to go for the protein part of the meal first, which is useful as at least you know they'll have eaten something reasonably nutritious. Then they ate yoghurt. For tea, they had pasta with cheese sauce, and fruit. The phone kept ringing all day. A dozen calls at least. I wished people would email me instead. I'm expecting a call now, in fact, but it hasn't come yet, so I can't do much but have to hang around for it.
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Al and Ro need supervising while they get dressed?
Oh, you mean the grandchildren.
Yes. The children. I didn't say my children.
Well, I expect that bee costume is a bit tricky for him.
But honestly, z, you're a martyr to your telephone. If it was me, I'd have let ring.
I am looking forward to the Christmas produce art.
Don't you have an answering machine?
wondered where you were
We work from home and get business calls. Besides, I can't stand the sound of a ringing phone.
I appreciate being missed, LOM
Shallot and onion skin angel. I'd love to see this, from a craft point of view and all.
Why not turn the ringer off, and let the answer-phone get it? Then you can check it when you haven't got buns in the oven.
I'm looking forward to the photoes too.
Your opening paragraph had me in stitches, so true.
Hello, GG - I'm not sure if the photo through glass will show exactly how it was done, if not I'll take another one close-up when the display is dismantled. I told him I'd commission him to make more to decorate the Christmas tree if he has time.
Then I have to ring people back, Dand. Sometimes, I miss the days before answerphones when you just didn't know what you'd missed.
I'd left various comments on other blogs, you see Caitlin, so it was as if I'd written a post. Almost.
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