Festive Drama

I had to collect Nella from Aberdeen bus station so went for a wee wander around Union Square shopping centre while I waited. I went into the new Seasalt shop which already had a sale on. I stroked the velvet dresses to see if they were as wrong as the ones I had seen in Norwich and to my horror, I discovered that all of the nap was running in the wrong direction. When I helpfully informed the sales assistant, she insisted snippily that the designers would have requested that. It made me shudder to think that if I ran my hands down my imaginary party frock, the fabric would feel bristly!

The week was spent endlessly making grocery lists, trying not to eat the food that I was stock-piling for Actual Christmas. In between hot chocolates and schmaltzy Christmas films, I did at least some “Art and Stitch” practice.

Freya arrived with boyfriend, George and his rather scatty young collie, Poppy. Poppy has made it her mission to terrorise Nessie. Freya unwisely got in the middle of a dog fracas and got hit in the face which broke off her front tooth crown (that she smashed when canoeing at Uni). Obviously, dentists are all closed for the hols… Poppy has also decided that it is a good idea to poop under the Christmas tree even after she has been outside to go to the toilet. The seagrass matting that we have is not the ideal type of flooring from which to remove squashed-in poop. Nessie and Fizz have decided to spend Christmas together in my room, minding their own business. On Christmas Eve morning everyone is walking on eggshells, hoping there won’t be any more drama. I honestly think I should write a sit-com. I am almost tempted to pour a large gin and cranberry, despite having been teetotal for almost a year;)