“The children were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads…”
- Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
1. A fruitful trip (pun intended) to the bulk store yielded a perfect crop (tee-hee) of dried dates, apricots, shredded coconut and chopped almonds. Back at the kitchen, knives, graters, and the whizz-thud-whizz of the food processor persuaded all of the above into a consistency perfect for rolling into balls, which were then covered in sugar and coconut, yielding a harvest (oh, make me stop) of yummy sugar plums, ripe for the picking (okay, I’m done). Dear Reader will notice there was not a plum in sight. Plenty of sugar, though.
2. Delivery of pink and blue knitted legwarmers to the Little Neighbours resulted in legwarmer pandemonium as C, the eldest, who dons a tutu 362 days of the year, hiked her pink legwarmers on over baggy tights and pranced around the living room, a born Sugar Plum Fairy. Younger-not-smaller S wrenched her blue ones over sweatpants, stomped around a bit, then yanked them off, grinning her gappy grin all the while. Tiny H, whose wee pink-and-blue legwarmers might easily warm a couple of toilet-paper tubes, couldn’t be pinned down. But she gave a toothless grin with her tongue hanging out, so all in all, it was a gratifying visit.
3. It’s my right and privilege as Fond Neighbour to spoil their appetites at any given time, so there was another delivery, this time a plate of sugar plums for the Little Neighbours to try. C, newly four years old and quite refined, asked politely for a sugar plum, took a dainty nibble, and just as politely put it back on the plate. S, who is two and not to be outdone, demanded “a bwown one”, and recoiled shrieking as it was handed to her. Tiny H observed the proceedings with a toothless grin and her tongue hanging out.
Let the festivities begin.
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”