We were planning on a lovely family get-together on Christmas Eve.
Plans were made.
Arrangements were arranged.
Gifts were purchased.
We don't do gifts per se, but there's the courtesy gift for the host, and I like to bring a box of chocolates for each of the aunties.
The Farm Manager pitched in with four gift packs of gourmet roasted nuts. Each gift pack is billed as a "party serving for six."
Then there was the jug of Crown Royal for my brother, who was born the day after Jesus.
The day before the party, we got the email that there ain't no party this year.
Covid, of course.
The booze didn't make it to new year's eve.
But we're just into the second box of Mill Creek chocolates, and we got four more to go, so we'll be good to spring, at least.
Unless diabetes strikes first.
As for the nuts, I found a lentil-walnut spaghetti recipe in the paper today, but that barely puts a dent in the stockpile.
My greatest fear is that we'll still have this year's Christmas goodies in the pantry when next Christmas rolls around.
And if that's a Covid Christmas too, I'm planning a walnut-and-chocolates overdose to take me to a better place.
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