Fabulous Friends and the tiniest Christmas Story. Just for laughs!

Before your teeny tiny story.  We need to do our homework! First,  I must say Thank you to Darling Jess from the Mist who gives me awards and advice about sheep feet, Mama is still the same but these things take time. I may be back for more advice I think.

Patchwork of Life ( wonderful girl) and Nia  (my first blog buddy ever), have both  sent awards to me over the last few weeks and I want to say a great big thank you. And if you have the time drop in,  their work speaks for itself. Lovely.

Sorry it took me so long.  Life on the Farmy gets so much busier over the winter. It is not just opening and shutting gates and laying about in the sun anymore. Fresh grass begets  dry grass  and dry grass becomes hay and must to be Carried.  Though I love hanging out in the barn.

These 1950’s half gallon milk bottles were what I found in California. I pretended to buy them for Our John, but he pretended to buy me a hay bailer so I think that is fair! There are six bottles AND a crate.  They already have milk in them. Perfect for what lies ahead.

Sush from Pursuit of Happiness sent me an award today!   Thank you Sush.  Beautiful girl.

Now, I know I am supposed to name 15,000 new blogs for you to check out but instead I  promise to upgrade my  blog roll.  Everyone is so dreadfully busy now.  I shall begin this tonight so when you next visit,  pop over to the Blog Roll for a look see.    “Cop out!” I hear you say. Ah well.

Sawson who is Disguised as a Chef, bless her,  went into my new Facebook page with her techno hammer and bashed things about a bit and now it works JUST FINE.  So armed with my Katherine Instructions, the Kitchens Garden Project will begin its slow climb out of obscurity on the way to making Vege Gardens sexy again. And we will all start swapping plants with our neighbours and saving all our seeds in case the  New Zealand government decides we should not be allowed to store them anymore. Though if they cannot catch a few fellas growing cannabis,  I have no idea how they think they are going to  outlaw cabbages!

Now, I shall tell you a very short story about when I was kidnapped from my usual solitary Christmas and whisked off to my best friends family Christmas day. By the way I was quite happy to spend Christmas day by myself (click for a quick explanation) but she insisted and so off we went to  have Christmas lunch.

The Sister-in-Law  and her family lived in one of those posh places in a very posh area. The house had a kind of purposeful dishevelment.  That anti keeping-up-with-the-Jonses that is more Jonsey than the Jonses themselves. Well, you know the kind of place. She had three darling daughters who were charging from room to room, as kids do at Christmas, almost knocking us down as we entered through the back door.  Screeching with hot breath. They were overjoyed with life. It was late Christmas morning and they had stripped the Christmas tree of its strings of golden decorations and hung them around their necks. They bounced and skidded in all directions with these gorgeous bright golden Christmas decorations flying out behind them.  Like dancing golden pearls on dancing summer flowers.

Feeling like the drab orphan,  I was shuffled in and introduced to the slightly standoffish Sister-in-Law, who was not charmed to be having an extra person at the dinner table and proceeded to make a big show of sending the hysterical girls off to go and get the Extra Chair.  Silence reigned for a moment. I shook her hand and handed her the bottle of champagne I had brought.  (Never go to someone’s home to eat with one arm as long as the other.)  I noticed that she too was wearing a string of golden baubles. Though the golden balls on her string were a little bigger than the girls and slightly brushed.

“Oh!” I said, searching for conversation as she narrowed her eyes at  the label on the wine. “I see that you have joined the girls when they raided the tree, and you are wearing  Christmas Decorations too.  How fun!”  Silence.  I trailed off.

I heard a snort like a little pig, from my best school friend behind me. This was answered by the most eye watering swallowed snort of laughter from her brother,  who was standing behind his wife the Sister-in-Law.   Without warning we were all caught in this terrible tableaux, no-one looking at me, with these two strangled snorts of laughter ringing in the air.  I looked back at my best school friend who,  fingers to her mouth and eyes wild, whirled around and  studied the wall.  Her shoulders held at that exact quivering straightness that denotes extreme pressure from within. I turned back to my hostess. Looking straight at me, The Sister-in-Law handed the wine off to the husband behind her. He took it and rushed for the kitchen.

“No,” said the sister in law with an arched brow, drawing herself up to her full and quite daunting height. Her extra chin betraying a certain amount of controlled tension.  “These are NOT plastic Christmas decorations.” Her words spat. I took a small step backwards.

” These”, and she tapped the gold baubles around her neck with a manicured fingernail. “are solid GOLD.  I have just received them from my husband, for Christmas.”  Haughty is   one word to describe her Sweep from the room.  Disdainful would be another.

“Oh dear.” I said to the room.  My best friend was gagging with laughter behind me. Choke, I thought.

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