tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84589176619798440852024-03-13T01:12:52.067-07:00Sandra AragonaSandra Aragonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660014456653061894noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8458917661979844085.post-73173488773528387072020-10-14T15:06:00.000-07:002020-10-14T15:06:16.323-07:00<w:sdt contentlocked="t" id="89512093" sdtgroup="t"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 1.0pt; mso-ansi-language: IT; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: IT; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr><w:sdt docpart="C4C82ABD01354670BC2381B31A595265" id="89512082" storeitemid="X_F2B151DF-40FB-450F-91DD-0946DDB66EFA" text="t" title="Post Title" xpath="/ns0:BlogPostInfo/ns0:PostTitle"></w:sdt></span>
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EASTER EGGS<o:p></o:p><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr></div>
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behaviour at this time of the year. We have disturbed memories, you see. Last
Easter weekend saw Beagle and me qualifying for Guests From Hell status.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Sunday morning we gathered
together our bi-national offerings (Italian olive oil and Cadbury’s Easter
eggs), rounded up the dog and tripped lightly downstairs<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to stuff it all into opposite ends of the
Chelsea tractor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Trip was the
operative word. A litre of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>olive oil
goes a horrendously long way on a marble floor and takes the best part of half
an hour and most of the Sunday Times to mop up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Hound was
subsequently inserted with some difficulty behind the dog-proof iron bars,
having picked up the scent of the eggs at <st1:metricconverter productid="100 yards" w:st="on">100 yards</st1:metricconverter>. I might also
mention at this juncture that Beagle’s personal vision of Paradise consists of
a large meadow dotted with rabbits (real, imaginary or chocolate,) and laced
liberally with fox poo. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">We were thus a
little late starting out on the requisite trek to the country for the
traditional Easter Egg Hunt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Technologically
Impaired husband watched with some scepticism as I deftly programmed my
girlfriend’s postal code into the GPS and then turned on the radio. Soothed by
the dulcet tones of Ms. Sat Nav, however, he relaxed sufficiently to obey her
instructions for once, instead of arguing furiously with her disembodied
directions at every crossroad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sank
back to listen to the chewing-gum-for-the-ears braying of the Omnibus Edition
of the Archers. Something about the combined effect of these two acoustical
elements<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>must have dulled our already
waning critical faculties. We had the motorway to ourselves and had made up for
nearly all our lost time as we swung triumphantly through the gates and up the drive
to our hosts’ magnificent residence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Blindly obeying our
front and rear sensors, we parked expertly between a Land Rover and a Bentley
and began to unload. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Realisation hit the
pair of us more or less simultaneously. It was the wrong host. Wrong lunch
party. Wrong girlfriend. Wrong post code. Clearly there was an Easter lunch in
progress here too – witness the cars all over the drive. But not the one to
which we had been invited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">It is not an easy
feat to back a 4 x 4 silently out of a gravel drive with a Beagle howling to
get out for a sniff at one’s non-host’s lurchers’ backsides, but we managed it.
Except that having scrunched back up to the main road spitting gravel to left
and right, somehow the main gates had closed on us…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The good news was
that I had, at least, chosen the right county, and after a highly apologetic
phone call to explain in graphic detail the tremendous traffic jams we were
encountering on the M20, we finally reached, as Ms. Sat Nav sexily remarked,
our destination.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Our real host had
been obliged to open an additional bottle of fizz which had clearly not overly
amused him. His guests were starving and pie-eyed. The cook was threatening to
resign as she watched her succulent pink lamb turning to strips of grey
leather. Beagle had an immediate fight with the house Labrador about who had
territorial rights over the last remaining smoked salmon canapé left on the
plate for Miss Manners. The children sulked throughout lunch refusing to eat
anything at all because they had been deprived of their Sunday morning egg
hunt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I slipped out into
the garden as soon as coffee had been served and started to hide the eggs in as
many Beagle-proof places as I could find. This, I realise in retrospect, also
rendered them completely invisible and unattainable to anyone under the age of
15 or below 6ft in stature. The oldest child was four and a half, though with
the lungs of a thirty year old coloratura.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The score at the
end of the day was as follows:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">2 yr old
girl………..three daffodil heads and a peony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Older
brother……....two shiny flat stones, three pellets of goat droppings, one fir
cone, two lost golf balls, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Black Labrador…….
look of extreme guilt, four remaining mauled eggs. Estimated eight swallowed
whole complete with silver wrappings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Beagle………………nowhere
to be seen. Later found in hen house consuming a raw omelette having rolled in
all the fox poo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Him and Me………… a
fragrant and silent ride home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Sandra Aragonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660014456653061894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8458917661979844085.post-3653066841986465012020-10-14T14:59:00.000-07:002020-10-14T14:59:42.493-07:00<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a name="_Hlk52733740"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">BUT NEVER FOR LUNCH – SANDRA ARAGONA</span></b></a><v:shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" stroked="f">
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<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBN1gkqD9kA3tQID95g1uVXeRgnecWy8P64vNmwNhuh8ijs3OBfoj8w-loNDfP1_CRNlsaCkEpavbQQ8cJDo3_Y2sxQUKwvfrb6XyAMogasCc9FneX3JzbVMPrKbG1AAZg1SRggA9rqTQ/s459/CAT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="455" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBN1gkqD9kA3tQID95g1uVXeRgnecWy8P64vNmwNhuh8ijs3OBfoj8w-loNDfP1_CRNlsaCkEpavbQQ8cJDo3_Y2sxQUKwvfrb6XyAMogasCc9FneX3JzbVMPrKbG1AAZg1SRggA9rqTQ/w317-h311/CAT.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;"><a name="_Hlk51597278"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Further exploits of an undiplomatic Beagle now in retirement with her owners and not </span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">even Trying to Behave. <a name="_Hlk51162990">Whilst our former Ambassador endeavours to maintain his standards of sartorial elegance and diplomatic sensitivity, Madame revels in the liberty to refuse a luncheon invitation, ditch the high heels and head for the countryside. Beagle of course never really tried to behave in the first place, but released from the constraints of Embassy protocol, she indulges in her own vision of heaven, be it exercising young racehorses, chasing cats up trees or simply peeing on the rose</a>s.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Sandra Aragona’s latest book of anecdotes to cheer you up during lockdown is now available on Amazon. Order it from:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08KKQ85FN">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08KKQ85FN</a></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">if you live in the U.K.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"></span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08KKQ85FN"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08KKQ85FN</span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>if you live in the USA<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"></span><a href="https://www.amazon.it/dp/B08KKQ85FN"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">https://www.amazon.it/dp/B08KKQ85FN</span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">if you live in Italy.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">and have it sent, gift wrapped and with your personal
greeting, to all your friends. Forget the cracker jokes. This is far more
entertaining. </span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Beagle</span></b></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">: <i>“</i></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Beagle
and I had a serious talk the other day. </span></i></span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Look, I said. I am prepared to take you horse riding with me
on two conditions. She rolled over in the approved “Save me, I’m only an
innocent Beagle” position. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">One, I said sternly, you stay right away from the muck heap
and two, you do not eat anything at all, neither alive nor dead nor
pre-digested.</span></i></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Got it? </span></i></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Got it, she said, and made straight for the front door. </span></i></span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Deaf as a post but understands every word you say.”</span></i><b><i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Travelling
in India:</span></b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> <i>“</i></span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">You have to respect a camel.</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Anything
which can look so damn supercilious and make you feel so damned inferior whilst
looking down at you from the top end of an S-bend has to be admired for its
sheer aplomb.”</span></i></span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Grandchildren:</span></b></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> <i>“</i></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I suggested we
might all go to the Zoo.</span></i></span><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk52733740;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <i>Grandfather, (His former Excellency), set the tone by
getting lost before we were even through the turnstile. He finally caught up
with us after I had put out a lost child announcement and requested that he
should make his way to the restaurant where his mummy would be waiting for him.
He was not at all amused.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br /></p>Sandra Aragonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660014456653061894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8458917661979844085.post-73190726238520377722019-02-04T09:04:00.002-08:002020-10-14T15:06:59.043-07:00DELAYED<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbZslkimZmRKcMMm8O6eh06n8iLudHV_kNMClIkv6yQEgmytiwH3hwbUXBU13Mrjo0L9X-gduGW9vNboawM0IPqnfstVTdxSzZZ1-2kZ_-Al46v47o9Cbugu9axI76QuG0niHFmhywBxn/s1600/IMG_5477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbZslkimZmRKcMMm8O6eh06n8iLudHV_kNMClIkv6yQEgmytiwH3hwbUXBU13Mrjo0L9X-gduGW9vNboawM0IPqnfstVTdxSzZZ1-2kZ_-Al46v47o9Cbugu9axI76QuG0niHFmhywBxn/s320/IMG_5477.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I have to
confess that my Christmas tree hasn’t actually found its own way back into its
very dilapidated box quite yet, presumably because it is hoping to meet up with
the budding branches dripping with multi-coloured Easter eggs on its way out. Also it only seems like yesterday that I was unwrapping coloured balls and partridges without pear trees and turtle doves a-perching and glass baubles from the Highgrove shop, (well we do a naice class of Christmas kitsch when we put our minds to it. How many people do you know with HRH's baubles on their plastic, sorry, ecological Christmas tree? In Rome?) Hooray for
small things and may they never grow up and be too old to appreciate a
chocolate sovereign or a soon-to-be earless bunny hanging from a droopy
branch.</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">So I thought I might add a belated description of our late lamented
festive dayandahalf.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">It began
with a string of Whatsups on a group chat between myself and the daughters,
following my 'umble request to know how many people wished to sleep chez nous over Christmas?</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Daughter No
1 (sent from a swimming pool in Morocco) : "all 3 of my kids if poss.
" <br />
Daughter No 2 (from her office, working her butt off) : "um - thought maybe
just my 2 little ones, so that I could hit the shops together with my
sister...." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Right. So
they had that sorted nicely, didn’t they?<br />
I wait 20 mins till they get desperate for an answer and tentatively start
wondering between them whether the parents couldn't possibly go out and buy a
bigger house with a couple more bedrooms? Then I put them out of their agony.
<br />
No probs, guys. Mattresses spread over the floors and warning notices will be
posted to Father Christmas when he comes down the newly swept chimney because otherwise
he might trip over all the bodies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">And
then some eejit with a drone intervened and suddenly it was looking
like half the family wasn't going nowhere. Daughter No 1, back in London from
Morocco with a fading suntan, began researching trains to Brussels (huh?)
having discovered that anything from the U.K. to anywhere in Italy had been
booked out solid for the past 24 hours and that a train would cost her £800 for
each member of the family. Finally, in the manner of all the best stories, just
when we had all given up hope and she was resigned to rushing out to buy her
own turkey and trimmings, a last minute message arrived. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had found flights for "the equivalent
of a small mortgage" to Pisa whence they would drive to Rome.
Arriving on Christmas Eve. At that point, all we needed was the wrong sort of
snow on the runway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">So I
collected the turkey and forced it into the oven and slung a freezer full of variegated
sausages over to Daughter No2 <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>who was
taking care of the trimmings. </span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Each sausage was decoratively adorned with a
colourful flag denoting its suitability or not <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for those with specific beliefs, religious or
humanitarian, all dietary requirements being faithfully respected in this
household. As usual all adult females were squashed into the not enormous
kitchen when not frantically wrapping stuff behind closed doors whilst the men
were slurping away when not wondering when the mince pies and espresso would finally
emerge, (very bi-cultural, my lot). And throughout all this the kiddies were,
according to age, prodding packages or their screens and generally bonding over
the fact that Christmas was SUPPOSED to be celebrated in pyjamas without neat
pony tails or anything on your feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">So we
dutifully cooked and ate and drank and made merry and went to church until they
all flew off on holiday somewhere for a couple of days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCcwK55rxxPUQPlFRDQXJqCuaJBRhHRYusFz67mVlQexuG02V0vjz4P9GiHJczdzu3xnhSCEY4LPpLIZDFo0DTedhVtx3urnTH1kpBEuiZPib5JhHpto6b09iuZyhNNnEjdIuKQ65EBMX/s1600/IMG_7892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCcwK55rxxPUQPlFRDQXJqCuaJBRhHRYusFz67mVlQexuG02V0vjz4P9GiHJczdzu3xnhSCEY4LPpLIZDFo0DTedhVtx3urnTH1kpBEuiZPib5JhHpto6b09iuZyhNNnEjdIuKQ65EBMX/s200/IMG_7892.JPG" width="150" /></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Question: Why
do all my friends keep moaning about how much weight they put on over the Christmas
period?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lost two and a half kilos and
haven’t been able to stomach anything fizzy for a month.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Now that IS
tragic.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></div>
<br />Sandra Aragonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660014456653061894noreply@blogger.com0