There is a slight sense of abandon setting in here. We've been chopping and measuring out the fruit and freshly ground spices for the christmas pudding. Late enough already, we had to send the man on an errand to buy a wholemeal loaf and some cinnamon while we two, my cousin and I measured out the Royal Dutch advocaat and ginger beer as a little treat. On the table now are an empty glass that half an hour ago was a frothy snowball, the peel from a satsuma and, at last, the christmas pudding--in-waiting.
A taste of the mixture and the aroma from the bowl reminds me fleetingly of my dad's Christmas aftershave. Old Spice.