Christmas Eve

Ahhh, eggnog. I remember now why I haven't allowed it in the house in years. I keep going back for "just a little more," with "just a drop" of very good rum - for "flavoring," you know. I do have a concept of how many calories I am consuming here, and now I'm just drinking to forget.

Tomorrow we are doing a small-ish family Christmas - cousins and daughter and son-in-law and Little Miss D, and everything was picked up ready-made from the deli. I am NOT cooking. It's 80 freaking degrees and my oven is nearly as old as my daughter. I'm not turning that bad boy on long enough to do a traditional holiday meal on an 80 degree Christmas. I adopted this alternate hot weather tradition years ago and it has worked out well. We have a deli platter and veggies and side salads and rolls for sandwiches, and my only concession to cooking will be a baked brie served with crackers. Cousin C is bringing beverages and dessert. We'll nibble all afternoon, play pass the baby for hours, open presents, and it'll be fun.

The buffet also works because my current dining room table is my former kitchen table and it isn't big enough to seat six comfortably for a real sit-down meal. We can load our plates at the counter and sit a bit too closely at the table, or over on the couch if there's a good game on. I haven't even looked to see what's on TV tomorrow, but I trust my son-in-law will know if there's a game.

Obviously my healthy plant-based diet is out the window this weekend - the effort of testing recipes and coming up with holiday dishes that a bunch of carnivores would really like and not just pretend to like seemed like too much, especially since my fridge wasn't even working right until quite recently. Maybe next year.

But as I've said, I'm not that strict about these things - holiday foods are just that, holiday foods, and I'm pretty sure that if I eat right 347 days a year, a few random holidays and other occasions of excess probably won't do much harm. Tomorrow's leftovers will go home with my daughter and her husband, and on Monday I will be back on my healthy path. I know by then I will be feeling so bloated and icky, beans and greens for dinner will sound like heaven.

I got my Christmas wish about Murphy - the very first dose of prednisolone worked an overnight miracle on his runny poop. I know it's gross to blog about dog poop, but I also know most of the people who read this are dog people and can appreciate the good feeling of witnessing a nice, normal poop after weeks of abnormal. It was a "Yay, Murphy!" moment for sure.

We also tried him on the canned version of his Royal Canin Gastrointestinal Low Fat diet, and he now LOVES it! I had tried him on a sample a couple of years ago and he ate it once, because it was different, but turned his nose up after that. It was not acceptable as his daily chow. Now, probably because his teeth are weaker, he thinks the canned stuff is wonderful and wolfs it down and begs for more. Sophie had to taste it and agreed that it is wonderful. I may be able to stop boiling chicken for either of them and switch them to RC canned. It certainly would make my life easier.

So it's a fairly quiet Christmas Eve here at the Bossy Doghouse. Not a creature is stirring, Murphy's tummy is calm, we will be up very early because prednisolone = a dog desperate to pee at 5 a.m., but that's okay, I can do my finishing speed-tidying of the house and be ready for our casual Christmas lunch. I plan to retreat to the couch and watch A Christmas Story,
and fall into an early, eggnogged sleep.

Merry Christmas!