Apologies for bringing the mood down, especially at this festive time of year, but I feel for those geese destined for fancy foie gras tins in their afterlife. Aside from all that comes with being a moral vegetarian, I take particular umbrage with this form of rearing birds. I feel their pain at being stuffed and stuffed until they bloat, making their livers engorged and fatty. And all to make them ready for the 'refined' palates of the rich. The cruelty is blatant and I won't dwell on it, but will instead move on to the more jollity&mirth steeped self-inflicted gorging that is in such abundance at my favourite Christmassy time.
Though decorations are aplenty during this season, bedecking halls and whatnot, it is a shame that balloons are not traditional fare. I could well stand in for one of these hot-air filled adornments, feeling as though I may pop if a pin punctured my wee pot-belly. Though it would not be a raspberry of air that would burst out, but a spray of mincemeat, ice cream, chocolate and chestnuts in a spectacular, seasonal fountain. Pa has an oft-repeated refrain that surfaces at times of excess of food and hugs, which goes along the lines of 'Don't squeeze too hard or the green stuff will squirt out of both ends'. This could be a very real possibility this year- you are forewarned...
I am considering adding one of those squiggly Spanish symbols above at least one of the n's of my name (which this keyboard doesn't seem able to express, unfortunately, showing a shameful lack of multiculturalism) as I am currently enjoying being very like a pinata: party time, glitter, bright colours, decorations... and hit me with a big stick and I'll explode in a shower of sweets, spurting out all manner of partly-digested goodies, festooning all with a churned up festive feast!
I need to go on a whirlwind, roller-coaster sleigh ride with Santa in order to shake it all up. I need to shake, shake, shake it like the proverbial Polaroid picture in order to shift and shape. Shake it down to get a J-Lo booty. Shake it up to get Angelina Jolie lips. Or shake it all about for a good even spread like the infinitely more fabulous Jo Brand. She may be marshmallow-soft around the middle, but she's got a tongue, mind and wit as sharp as a meat cleaver. And that, after all, is what matters.