Boxing Day was a lot of fun, with family and friends in Dallas, a delicious rib roast bought at what passes for a bargain these days, Yorkshire pudding, obvs, and all 'round good cheer. Great result and so good to see some old friends of the family from England.
I asked one, over the roast beef of Olde Texas, what he thought about the preparedness of the UK's submarine fleet. He thought for a moment as the magic of a perfect Yorkshire pudding did its trick, then replied with commissioned naval exactitude, "A bloody disgrace." He's a retired submariner who remembers the old Navy, back when Britain still had ships. Who knows, maybe it will again, which would make sense for an island.
Submarines aside, we finished off with plum pudding and relaxed in that Boxing Day interregnum kind of way, replete with great feasting. And now? Back at the Compound in the balmy warmth of a Texan evening. Dogs bark, an enormous possum just climbed up the perimeter fence, yawned at the chickens and waddled off seeking whom he may devour. So all's well with the world.
Tomorrow? The mystery of the Mass at Missions 1 & 2, followed by leftover roast beef. I'm fixing to reheat it without drying the beast out, which can be done. Maybe an opportunity for more Yorkshire puddings too. I use Gordon Ramsay's recipe and it works, especially with free-range/farm eggs. More on that anon.
Cheers,
LSP
