Greetings blog readers! Hope you all had merry merry times over the festive period. I'm not quite sure how it happens but there is of course, a tale to tell from Dizzland. And here it beginneth...
It should probably begin with a quick point that Wavey and I have become roomies. Yep, on Christmas Eve I began the (still ongoing) move from my house to his. It's not far. About 3 minutes walk so the moving is not really a great hardship. But it is hugely exciting! We're having a lovely old time, 6 days in and all is rosy (insert big wide grin/barf in sick bucket here at loved up bliss)
Christmas day rolls around. This is a big day. The Dizz parentals are coming to the Dizz/Wavey house for the festive dinner. Proceedings are expected to kick off around 12.30pm. Except that proceedings kicked off around 6am when the heating very loudly announced itself with the biggest loudest GURGLE you have ever heard. Of course it woke us up and we did that thing where you look quizzically at each other, shrug your shoulders and go back to sleep. Perhaps we should have paid more attention.
I'd watched about a gazillion cookery programmes so had all these exciting plans afoot for the big meal. And not a lot of them involved Delia. I'm sure you'll remember a couple of years ago the gruelling Delia schedule that involved getting up at stupid-o-clock and doing untold things to the turkey and its backside. So this year I was going rebel. Not following Delia. This was a bad bad thing to do.
Around 9am we noticed that the house had started to become rather chilly. Oh no bother we say, we'll just boost the heat up. Presses button. Not a lot happens. Let's not worry too much, we'll just carry on opening presents and drinking tea. About an hour later Wavey was off visiting his family peeps when the scariest noise I have ever heard shrieked its way out of the utility room. And I exaggerate not when I say shrieked. The boiler was literally squealing. I was, to put it politely, shit scared. I ran in there and just looked at it hoping for some divine intervention. As none was forthcoming (perhaps it was the repetition of the words shit shit shit that put them off...?) I did what seemed the best option, hit the off button and ran away from the boiler eeping and eeeking and grabbing for my phone to text Wavey telling him to come home RIGHT NOW as the boiler was having a meltdown.
So summing up. Christmas Day. Parentals coming for lovely dinner. Boiler broken. Snow on the ground outside. Temperatures below zero. Boiler broken. No heating. Hmmmm. But would we be beaten? Would we heckers! I texted my ma alerting her to the loss of heat, told her to pack her extra vest and slippers and valiantly carried on! Much to the delight of us all the dinner went perfectly, the soup rocked, the turkey was possibly the best looking bird at the party, my chuck it all in and see what happens trifle was deeelish, the mince pies were cooked to perfection, the coffee was good (cheers Pops!) and the port was, erm, very warming! My dad had about 3 helpings of everything and proffered the rarely given 7 out of 10 mark, wow-sers! My ma claimed the best seat in the house, right in front of the roaring fire, and a jolly good day was had by all!
Due to the many Bank Holidays that mean we get lots of yummy holidays from work, we had to wait until today for the boiler man to arrive. In the meantime we spent a lot of time snuggled up by the fire (grin/barf...you know the drill) I've cooked up some cracking warming food, including my curried turkey broth on Boxing Day which was blooming deelish - the pan was almost licked dry!
And we've just got on. To be fair, I wasn't really expecting to move into an igloo. But it's been lots of fun. Our nearest and dearest have enjoyed lots of our company as we've popped round saying ooooh warm house everytime we've walked in a door. But you know what? It's been absolutely deeeelicious having the heating on today. All day. Oh yes! I was even, oh wow, sat in just a vest top this evening after dinner as was experiencing a rather rosy glow! Amen to that boiler man, he might just have been the best Christmas present ever. Then again, no, greatest thanks be to my kind friends the Cullens, who bought me the things that have truly kept me toasty roasty warm - the funkay bootie slippers that are all the colours of the rainbow in spots and stripes. I would insert a photo but Wavey's pc just crashed at the attempt so perhaps not eh?
And thus endeth the tale. It all worked out just dandy in the end. But just in case, we're very sorry Delia. We will always ALWAYS follow your Christmas dinner schedule from now on. Without fail. Please don't steal the heating anymore...
Happy New Year everyone!
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