It snowed!

We woke up to snow this morning!

Now before you scoff and say, "Call that snow!" yes, we do. It's rare in Swansea so even a smattering gets us excited and taking photos. Because it will probably be gone by lunchtime.

So when I was in a charity shop looking for teapots (see previous post) I couldn't help but notice they were selling paperbacks at 2 for £1. I mean, what was I supposed to do?

So far I've read Calling Mrs Christmas, a typical Christmassy story, and The Altogether Unexpected Disappearance of Atticus Craftsman, a delightful little tale with intrigue, love, eccentric characters, and a publishing house. If I tell you the review quote on the cover comes from The Lady magazine, you'll get an idea of its intended audience.

But where was I? Oh yes, still in the run-up to Christmas.

It was the church carol service on the Sunday before Christmas, taken, written, and read by members of the writing group. It went perfectly. Nothing went wrong, not even the techy bits where we had to play pre-recorded readings because the authors were away. I was so impressed. And, even better, we had very good reviews from everyone who attended and said how different it. (I think they meant that in a good way!) Oh, I didn't get a photo of me in my donkey ears. How remiss of me.

That was in the evening. I was supposed to be in prison in the morning for their carol service but Mini's flat tyre prevented that. Not a great hardship as life by then was quite busy.

Monday I got stuck in a traffic jam in a car park in Llanelli. I'd gone to meet the woman who was going to take our gifts to the working girls. It turned out we'd both got the wrong impression of the other from our email exchange. She thought I would be a stern stickler while I thought she was quite selfish. We both left our meeting with different views and will meet again soon to see what support Zac's can give her in her work.

Tuesday evening it was the Zac's carol service. A very low turn-out, I'm not sure why, but those there enjoyed the singing and the soup. I'd chosen some different readings to reflect the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies, so it included the massacre of the innocents (killing of all boys under the age of two in the district).

Wednesday? Ah, Christmas eve. We went for a curry lunch at Daughter's, then relaxed, and before we knew it, the alarm was going off to tell me it was time to get up to go and serve breakfast in Zac's.  Then it was back home to wait for the arrival of Elder Son and family. He was doing most of the cooking: he'd 'bathed' the turkey, and prepared several side dishes. I did the roast potatoes and parsnips with maple syrup. He left cooking the sprouts until he got to us. He very carefully placed the halved sprouts, one by one, in his pan to sear.

Then served them with bacon and something else I think. Anyway, it was all delicious. He did a beetroot, carrot and swede gratin too. It was all yummy.

Then Daughter and family came around in the afternoon for present opening and tea - that nobody wanted but everybody ate. Including my famed ice cream pie aka Phil Collins' ice cream pie from my very old Food Aid cookbook.

Daughter looked at it and said, "Did you make it in the dark?" I had to explain that I didn't have a tin big enough so had to shape one out of foil, and it got a bit messy. It also took a hammer and chisel to crack the frozen base!

Boxing Day the virus that had been knocking on my door throughout December, but which I'd refused to let in - I'm too busy - took advantage of my relaxed post-Christmas state and moved in without so much as a by your leave. Since then I've been mostly stretched out on the sofa, watching television, reading, and snoozing, in between coughing and feeling very sorry for myself. I also did a lot of jigsaws.

But back to those bosoms. I remembered. Whichever bra I wear, however well-fitting, I start off with great separation but during the day my boobs move inwards, to cuddle together.