Goodwill – and indigestion – toward men . . .

I hope and trust your Christmas has been a good one.  Mine certainly has.  I was up early, continuing to set up my new computer, and I took time out to take Oleg to the airport later in the morning, on his way to visit his parents over the holidays.  Miss D. and I will be catsitting for him.

We’ve just finished our Christmas dinner.  We roasted two chickens in an oven bag, which yielded 4 cups of the richest broth you could wish for, plus succulent, moist meat that fell off the bone when poked with a fork – no knife necessary.  One chicken largely disappeared tonight, accompanied by a green salad and washed down with a bottle of Tennessee white wine;  the other will be eaten over the next few days.  All the bones, the skin and the broth are already in a slow-cooker, along with 12 cups of water.  We’ll simmer them overnight to harvest up to 12 cups of chicken broth for future soups and stews.

Miss D. and I have a lot to be thankful for this Christmas, despite our physical ailments and restrictions – she after being the meat filling in a two-car sandwich some years ago, and me after my back injury in 2004 and heart attack in 2009.  We’re doing as well as can be expected, and a lot better than many others in our position.  That’s reason enough for celebration, right there, even if it weren’t for the blessings of the season.

I hope and trust your Christmas was also blessed and peaceful.  May the remainder of it be happy, and the remainder of the year relaxing and enjoyable.



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