26/12/2016

It is boxing day and I woke up with salmon pink clouds streaked outside my window across a blue sky. Waking up in Winter brings one of two sights - either it is dark outside (as it usually is since I typically wake up at 7am) or it is a fragile, cautious entering of dawn into day.

Yesterday I woke up and padded up the stairs to my Mum's room, opened her door to see her awake too

'Merry Christmas,'

and climbed into bed with her, into the warmth beneath the duvet.

Hannah joined us after a while, and we all lay there, when Mum asked, 'Did Father Christmas come?'

'No,' I said, since I hadn't seen anything at the end of my bed like last year.

'Yes, he did,' Hannah corrected me, 'It's right outside your room!'

Getting to those presents was a process. Hannah was too attached to the under cover warmth and wouldn't budge, so I tried to roll over her to no avail, and then Mum tried to roll over both of us, which did get us out of bed, down the stairs, to little folded newspaper bags of Father Christmas presents. I got a bar of vegan milk chocolate, funky socks, a nakd bar, some soap and a little bag of the sweetest mini pegs and string to hang photos up in my college room. But the best present had to be - the batik scrunchies Luk Ching had given me for my birthday in July! Apparently Mum had found them around the house and thought they belonged to no one, and had then decided they might make a good Father Christmas present!

After that was breakfast, and then lots of chopping, peeling, seasoning and roasting as we prepared for the special Christmas lunch. 'This house smells like vegetables!'



Lunch was round at Auntie Sarah's house, and after the triumphant arrival of Grandma from the nursing home, we opened presents and passed around cards, and then settled down for lunch. 'Let's name every vegetable on our plate and the countries they come from,' said Grandma, but none of us were quite clever enough to do that.

Oh our menu! As Rudyard Kipling would say, the table was replete with superior comestibles.

For the meal we had:

Roast Parsnips
Roast Potatoes
Roast Brussel Sprouts with Lemon and Thyme
Mashed Sweet Potato with a lemon tahini dressing
Roast Red Peppers
Sage and Onion Stuffing
Roast Chicken/Pigs in blankets (for the Carnivores)
Ginger and Garlic Stir Fried Broccoli (specially for Grandma)
Linda McCartney Red Onion and Rosemary Sausages

And because Uncle John doesn't like dairy products either, everything was roasted in olive oil or rapeseed oil instead of butter - perfect!

And for dessert:

A slice or four of Vegan Spiced Apple Cake (recipe from hotforfood) - I can't recommend this recipe enough. It is so so simple, but utterly delicious, and it makes the house smell incredible while baking. Swedish Glace vanilla soy ice cream
Fruit Compote
Strawberries
Raspberry Strudel and Chocolate Log Cake (not vegan unfortunately)
And a plate of unknown Portuguese Desserts from the neighbours that nestle in between Grandma and Auntie Sarah's houses.



And then, the best part of the day - games. Auntie Sarah was so tired she fell asleep in our game of 'Who am I?' but everyone was awake when it came to ring-on-a-string, which involved much risk-taking, belly-laughter and sleight of hand. We played wink murder next - Grandma: "You mean I've been sitting next to a murderer this whole time!"

Also, upon being slyly accused of being the murderer by the actual murderer himself, Grandma said (very innocently), "Do you mean that if the little bit of paper was blank, then I am the murderer?"

Grandma also told us about a rather scandalous game she played when she was younger, called Squeak Piggy Squeak which involved sitting on boys' laps while blindfolded, trying to guess who they were from the 'squeak' they are meant to say. We were in hysterics - she'd never told us about this game before - and she said, rather cheekily, "Of course, you could always get it wrong on purpose." So that the game wouldn't end, the players would shuffle round, and you would sit on another boy's lap!



Hannah was tired by the end of categories, and even I was beginning to get a little droopy-eyed, and Grandma needed to go back for her 9pm curfew. But before she left, she managed to walk up the stairs, one foot first and then the other joining it, slowly slowly, then across the path, into her house and down the stairs to see the Nativity Renny made with (minimal) help from Hannah and I. 'Oh, isn't it lovely!'

This Christmas felt more like family, an answer to prayer.