The air in me slow cookerer gorrup to 95 degrees c. Quite impressed wiv dat. Me leg was 92 inside. Lowest was 85 on the end. It were cooked lovely. Eye had some ter check then tipped oot the leaked oot fluid un turned it oft. Then went ferra baff. Eye had already hadda nap. Then eye chopped it up. Eated loads un put the rest int frudge. Scraps are oot side in front ov me naychair camera. Sprinkled along the slabs so it definitely triggers this year. Also deleted some ov the files as the memory card filled up yesdi.
 
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We've just had Christmas dinner followed by luxury cheesecake. Several of the 10 year old crackers from on top of the wardrobe were pulled after Xylia had kindly wiped the dust off them. The contents included a yellow plastic key ring, one of those cellophane fishes that's supposed to tell your fortune and a joke that said
Q: What do you need to know to be an auctioneer?
A: Lots
On putting the roast in to cook, the little novelty butter pat which the vendors had placed on the top fell down the back of the oven and I couldn't retrieve it. Consequently whilst the dinner cooked the house filled with smoke from the butter and herbs incinerating. All the smoke alarms went off, so I took their batteries out. I must remember to put them back in when the air has cleared a bit. We enjoyed it, but it's a bit of a faff making Christmas dinner. Maybe it'll be Xylia's turn to do it next year.

One of the people I know at work messaged me to say they were having a Ukrainian refugee for Christmas dinner. "I hope he tastes nice" I replied. Not a terribly good joke but I just couldn't help myself.

Better go now - the cat's eating my Stilton cheese.
 

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