I have parcelled up some books and Christmas Pudding to send to Auntie Pat in Italy, it makes Christmas seem imminent and hopefully it is not,  I still have shopping to do.

I bought the pudding in the Supermarket yesterday, I haven’t made my own for years in fact I am the only one of our family who really likes it. And I love it with cream and/or custard and brandy butter, or sliced and fried in butter and sugar and really I try not to eat it, I can put on weight just looking at it!

Browsing the shelves looking for little individual puddings to post I was amazed at the dozens of different ones there are to choose from, some are so alcoholic, and some bear no resemblance to the Christmas Pudding I that know and love at all.

All ready I can feel my hackles rising against the pure commercialism of modern Christmas, where has all the magic gone.  Half of the pure joy of Christmas was the preparing and waiting and now the shops are full of Christmas for 3 months, no wonder we are all so world-weary.

I am having a moan and really being a bit contrary.  After all if things hadn’t changed I would have had to set about making the pudding myself wouldn’t I?

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