Christmas Eve

The dread of the preceding weeks had finally built its way up to a crescendo. On Thursday morning, Christmas Eve, we braced our shoulders and flung ourselves head first (no, not really) into the madding Christmas crowds at the local shops.

I hate crowds. *glower*

Shopping (eventually) complete, we arrived home, ate brekkie and I set to work prepping food for Christmas Day. We had to bring food to two separate family gatherings. I mostly had to make salads and dips, plus crudités and zucchini chips and spiced nuts — basically the finger food.

The potato salad was to take the most time. Boil the spuds, steam the eggs, make the mayonnaise, fry the bacon, chop the spuds, chop the eggs, chop the bacon, chop the chives and spring onions. It was a bit of a marathon and my back was giving me some grief (a day of babysitting the heffalump grandson does that to me, and we’d had him the day before) and it took me a few hours to get done everything I needed to get done that day.

Well, nearly everything. I still had to make one of the dips, and then the next day assemble the potato salad and other salads. But all was pretty much under control. Whew.

Then, with cunning and stealth, it attacked — slow but invincible.

“Uh-oh,” I said to Dohn. “I’m feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it’s heartburn?” After about half an hour or so of discomfort, I headed to the kitchen to get some apple cider vinegar in case it was heartburn, though I wasn’t convinced as it was lower down than heartburn tended to be. Then, before I even had a chance to pour the ACV, I knew for sure it was not. I made my way quick smart to the bathroom.

The Bug had made its move — and move it did.

That was that as far as the day’s prep was concerned. The final dip would just have to be crammed into the next morning’s prep. It couldn’t be helped. I felt, in a word, bleugh.

I lay on the bed, not wanting my computer(!), not wanting food(!!), not wanting bubbles(!!!) but wanting to feel better more than a little, as day drifted into evening and evening drifted into night. It was all the same to me.

And then it was Christmas

At some point in the night, The Bug had felled Dohn too. So by morning there we were, two sad souls, feeling crook together. At this point it was The Bug: 2, Us: 0.

“Merry Christmas,” we greeted each other, with somewhat more irony than joy.

After some discussion, but not much as it was really a no-brainer, we decided we must stay home that day and not subject other family members to The Bug that had laid us low. And it did lay us low! We spent Christmas Day in bed feeling quite pitiful. Still no computer, no food and no bubbles. On Christmas Day! So many firsts. Always trying something new, that’s me. Hah.

In the evening, I thought of my family celebrating at my daughter’s house but felt too ill to wish I was there, although I hoped they were all having a good time. I did, however, have fleeting thoughts for my Mum’s pavlova. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but I do adore my Mum’s pav. I have been known to “order” it as a birthday cake in the past. It’s sooooooo good. And therefore it was sooooooo tragic! *sniffle*

But the food…!

So, that was our Christmas. Dohn was better by yesterday, evening the score a little, and I am also better today. Such a relief! (Take THAT, The Bug! You lose!) But now we have to face all the food. Oh, my. So much wasted food. We couldn’t give it away (in case it was contaminated with The Bug) and haven’t been up to eating it ourselves. And oh, how I love my potato salad! I don’t get to eat it normally, as hubby isn’t fond of it. Such a waste — of both money and the food itself. When I think of all the better uses both could have been put to, I could weep. And all that stress and prep for nothing!

But that’s life.

(Belated) Christmas wishes!

I truly hope your Christmas was better than ours. Despite the tardiness of the message, I sincerely wish you all the blessings of the season. Merry Christmas everyone!