Seasonal highlights part two: to Christmas and beyond!

It was all a bit last minute. On Christmas Eve I was slightly hungover, having had an unexpected (and very enjoyable) evening out with my Significant Ex the night before. Not so's I couldn't function, but there was the whole house to clean, all the decorations to put up, the presents to wrap and the nut roast to cook. It needed to be done early because there was a giant turkey too (Peach Croft Farm's finest*), which was going to leave mere millimetres to spare in the oven.

In the end, the wrapping, apart from for M (who anyway had half a washing machine to look at if he was after shiny) was done on a 'they're coming up the path now' basis. I can recommend this approach as long as you have sellotape in one of those quick-action dispensers.

Christmas Day itself had something of the military about it, in the early part anyway. The nut roast never did get done on Christmas Eve, so there were back of envelope calculations about oven timings and temperatures, and there was a mountain of potatoes, parsnips, sprouts, carrots, swede, broccoli, and two colours of cabbage to prepare. This was because M had offered to feed ex-housemate S, her Young Man, Big Boy Tungsten and Baby Particle (well, at one remove). Somewhere along the line her Young Man's parents were added into the equation, but by then it was well into sheep as a lamb territory anyway.

One of the indisputable joys of living in East Oxford is that if you decide you absolutely must have six cans of Coca Cola and a Swiss roll (for trifle) at 1.30pm on Christmas Day, there's a shop open that will sell them to you, and you can have a little solitary walk there and back through the churchyard. After dinner, which was a success of epic proportions for which I can take only minor credit (nut roast, some peeling, excavation of posh wine glasses, table decorations) I had another burst of claustrophobia, and this time managed to persuade ex-housemate S to come for a short stomp with me over South Park as the sun went down. Then we all watched the Gruffalo together and I thought, maybe I'm not such a misanthrope after all.

Boxing Day featured more wrapping and more eating, this time with M's offspring. They are all proper grown ups these days, and it doesn't half make life easier. For them as well as me, I'm sure. We had a splendid cheese fondue with an enormous winter salad and drank a bit too much (or was that just me?) without it getting messy.

And then there was peace, interspersed with spontaneous socialising, which I think is the kind I like the best these days. Right now I have a streaming cold, but one that is containable as long as there is a generous supply of Lemsip Max and those tissues that don't make your nose hurt. We went to see Avatar last night (a shit Hollywood plot that you can almost but not quite ignore because the 3D special effects are so awesome) and tonight I am going to share a little sloe Sambuca at either or possibly both of two gatherings, one of which is largely made up of people I last saw in the Hot Place.

It's been a funny old year, what with the global economic meltdown, a trip to quite possibly the worst place on earth, dealing with leaks in roofs and radiators, and nearly having skin cancer. Perhaps the funniest thing is it feels like it's not been a bad one. Maybe close escapes are good for the soul.

joella

* Going to pick up the turkey on the 23rd with M and the ex-housemate S collective was about the most middle class thing I have ever done. There was a big marquee with heaters and mulled wine and carols playing. I was sitting with Particle and a posh lady said 'how *delightful* to have a new baby at Christmas!'. Oh, I said. He's not mine. Fortunately, I didn't get arrested or anything.

Seasonal highlights part one: pre-Christmas

There's a new dog in town. Well, actually, he lives in Lancashire with the parentals, but I paid a pre-Christmas visit and got to take him for walks. He's about a year old. He wasn't technically a rescue dog, but he needed rescuing - he was bred as a show dog and then wasn't quite good looking enough. He's very thin, he doesn't eat, he sits sideways like he was taught to, and he trots dutifully along beside you with no obvious enthusiasm. It's quite heartbreaking. But he can actually fetch, which is promising, and once he's learnt to wee outside and eat proper dog food (rather than table scraps, which is what he was brought up on), he'll be right. I'm glad he didn't pass muster, he'll have a better life than if he had.

So there's the dachshund. And then there's the Miele. I have never had much luck with washing machines. This is the fourth one through these doors in eight years. The first was one M bought off Dave the Rave when he left the country. It never did more than get stuff wet, really, but it worked. We sold it on when M inherited his mum's. Which was a new-ish Electrolux, but broke down a couple of years later just before ex-housemate S left. Mistake #1 was not getting it repaired. We had a tumble dryer at that point, but it was in the bathroom, and I'd found out how many water and electrical regulations that was breaking. So I got rid of the broken washing machine, sold on the tumble dryer, and bought a Hotpoint washer-dryer. That was mistake #2.

Anyone will tell you that washer-dryers are shit, including the engineers you have to call out to them on a depressingly regular basis. They don't wash very well, they hardly dry at all, they *eat* electricity in the process, and then they blow up. Which ours duly did. I hated it from the start, but I cried when it died. Where were we going to find the cash for a new washing machine just before Christmas?

The answer was that I bought M a third of a washing machine for Christmas, and he bought me two thirds of a washing machine. And this time, we got it right. We bought a Miele. It was number two on the Which Washing Machine list (number one is a Miele as well), and even the man who knows everything about washing machines says they're basically the bollocks. And I love it. It is the MacBook of washing machines. It arrived on the 22nd, and after we installed it, I stroked its sturdy corners and sat cross-legged in front of it for its entire first cycle.

But it's not all been introspective dog-walking and appliance-stroking. No. It's a social time of year, and while I begged off the NGO X Christmas party (ceilidh! karaoke! other circles of hell!) we did have a team high tea, which was good fun and marvellously festive, though I would have preferred a higher sandwich:cake ratio myself. I did some mulled celebrating of the solstice, which was also lovely, but I think the highlight was the Queen of Clubs Pre-Christmas Cabaret, featuring Oxford Maqam, Kimwei and Scarlett in the Wilderness, all playing to a shawl-swathed audience in the tiny and ridiculously atmospheric Bartlemas Chapel. I am suspicious of any act whose description contains the word 'burlesque' (SITW - the first two acts were anything but), but it was far too cold for corsetry. And I think all the better for it. Worth listening out for any of them... and remarkable to see them all in the same place. My hat was off to the organisers. At least, as soon as I got back in the warm.

Now, I must away and wash my pyjamas. Again.

joella

Anxious Vegetarian Markup Language

There was a spate of articles recently about how annoying it is when people who eat fish and/or bacon sandwiches call themselves vegetarian. Like this one. The Vegetarian Society is so pissed off about it that they've devoted a whole section of their website to the issue.

Now I regularly answer 'yes' to the question 'are you a vegetarian?'. And I'm not. But from my point of view what's annoying is that there isn't a word, or even a phrase, to describe what I do and don't eat. Not even close.

It goes a little something like this:

• Vegetables = Yes. Although not aubergines, because they're the devil's vegetable. I try to eat vegetables which are organic, in season and grown in the UK, because they taste better, and I believe the taste better = grew better = better for the planet hype. We get a weekly box from Abel & Cole, which we supplement with things we grow on the allotment, or things we buy on Cowley Road. This can be from the uber-ethical East Oxford Farmer's Market, but can also be from the Co-op, Tesco, or any of the Asian grocers. I'm not a purist. Every now and again I buy Kenyan green beans in the middle of winter. I feel bad, but not that bad. Those Kenyan farmers have got to make a living. Those Asian shopkeepers have got to make a living.


• Fruit = Yes. But mainly summer fruits, in summer. I like the fleeting nature of the soft fruit season. Lemons all year round. Fairtrade if I can get them, but whatever.


• Lentils, beans, rice, pasta, bread = Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes. The first three generally sourced from the aforementioned Asian grocers in large quantities, which is more about frugality than anything else. I have the kind of brain that can hold vast quantities of price comparison data. Bread, I'm kind of fussy about. I'll pay silly money for fresh rye bread. But there's also always a Warburton's Toastie in the freezer. Horses for courses.


• Dairy = Mostly. My favourite cheese in the world is Norwegian Jarlsberg, and I don't even think that's vegetarian. But I don't have it very often. Mostly I cook with British (vegetarian) cheddar, and I eat ewes milk cheeses like roquefort and manchego. It costs more, but you can't farm sheep intensively, they won't stand for it. And it's easier to digest. These things are possibly related. Yoghurt = also ewes milk, if I can find it, else organic. Milk and butter... yes, in moderation. Sometimes organic, sometimes not.


• Eggs = Yes, but free range only. Anyone who's seen a battery hen and still eats battery eggs has a bit missing. If you can't afford free range eggs, don't eat eggs. End of.


• Fish = Some. I don't eat farmed fish. I don't eat things caught in purse seine nets. I don't eat fish where stocks are clearly at risk, eg sea bass, bluefin tuna, most types of cod. I read labels carefully and look things up on the internet. I adjust the list of fish I do eat all the time, mostly downwards. But I do eat fish. Smoked mackerel, trout, tuna from M&S, anchovies, coley, pollack all currently feature in my diet. Smoked wild salmon is one of my favourite things, but can only be justified at Christmas, on cost grounds.


• Shellfish = Some. I don't eat warm water prawns because of the human and environmental evils of intensive prawn farming (the mangroves! the mangroves!). I don't eat oysters because I'm squeamish. I don't eat lobster because of they way they are cooked. I don't eat octopus because they're too big and wriggly. I don't eat scallops because I don't like them. But cold water prawns, mussels, clams, squid, I eat.


• White and read meat = 99.9% No. Theoretical exceptions apply. The 0.1%: when poorly, I eat Knorr Chicken Noodle Soup, and on the first day of my period, if I am near anyone eating liver, I will have a bit. Intensive animal farming is bad and wrong. Bad for the animals, and wrong for the environment. The food that comes out the other end of it is also bad for people, as evidenced by the obesity, diabetes and heart disease statistics which have emerged over the last few decades. And that's before we talk about variant CJD.


• Frog's legs, foie gras, veal, cat, dog, monkey brains = Never have, never will.

Those theoretical exceptions:

1. I gave up meat in 1983, and it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I have had the occasional drunken lapse in the mini pork pie direction, but these are very occasional. And there's the liver thing, but that counts for maybe 2oz of liver a year. Maintaining this while travelling is usually no problem, but it's a nightmare in many parts of Africa. Firstly, there aren't many vegetables, and secondly, someone else is usually taking care of the food side of things and the whole vegetarian concept is totally alien to them. And, I realised when I was in the Hot Place, my reasons for not eating meat do not apply in this context. The chicken or goat running round the yard has more freedom than a lot of people living in the same settlement. There's nothing intensive about it. So in those circumstances, I lapse where necessary, with necessary being defined as not otherwise eating anything, or deeply inconveniencing someone who is trying to be hospitable with limited resources.

2. I live with someone who eats meat, though not much of it, mostly organic, and mostly when I'm not around. We talk about it a lot. And I do think there's meat and meat - I have less objection to rabbit than to chicken, to venison than to beef. Wilder animals are fairer game, so to speak. In theory, I eat wild things. But in practice, I don't.

3. Meat grown in a lab that doesn't quite exist yet but will soon. No problem with that in theory, but I'll probably stick to Quorn.

4. Human placenta. Curious. Mainly because it's supposed to taste a bit like liver.

And that's it in a nutshell. Oh, nuts. Them as well. And seeds. Loads of them. And Marmite.

So I tick the 'vegetarian' box because there's a box to tick, and there's not much vegetarian that I won't eat. If I get on a plane, I am an AVML.

You might not agree with where I've drawn my personal line, and I might not agree with where you've drawn yours. But I have a lot more respect for people who've thought about it and drawn one. And there's no word for them either.

joella