Round one   Leave a comment

Two out of three ain’t bad?

I like Boxing Day. I get a lie in after the surprising hecticness of Christmas, almost always have a new Terry Pratchett book to read, and maybe even have time to play with a present (inevitably read: game) before the evening’s traditional gorging.

So the morning started with my lying in bed, reading Snuff and dunking fancy biscuits in a honey-rum cappuccino, while Forza 4 roasted over a hot X-Box*. It was a good morning. I said as much on Twitter.

It got less good when my sister left me a voicemail about Skye. I didn’t find out all the details until she came to pick me up and take me to the Traditional Family Christmas Eve Buffet, though, and on the way we had to stop at the field to make sure Wilf and Sam were OK in the field with their ex-friend (having her taken away on Boxing day would have been too much, alas, but she wasn’t going to get any worse). That’s what you’ve come to expect from Colthor’s blog: extolling baked goods; calling for the noisy and obnoxious to be executed; computers, programming and games; my inability to deal with the other members of my species; and the occasional dead horse.

I’d been looking forwards to (and buying goodies for) the buffet for ages; it’s probably my favourite dinner of the year, because it has everything on it. I like everything! But it was a somewhat subdued affair, as Mum was very upset, hiding in the living room for much of the evening, and my sister was rather ill with Lurgy that looked like it could be verging on chest infection, so couldn’t cook (she “usually” cooks the buffet, and has “always” done so, but I’m not convinced this has been the case for nearly so many years as she’d claim). This meant that I got to demonstrate my mastery of putting things in the oven for the length of time stated on the packet, and also of chopping up the token salad. I might be no use what-so-ever at sympathy or commiseration**, but I can get on with basic household tasks. And I was mostly left to get on with it, as nobody felt up to interrupting me. Silver linings, eh?

Eventually we ate, and my direction to Mum to “quit your moping and eat one of these chicken things you wanted” elicited the only smile I saw from her all evening, and at least meant she migrated to the dining room with everybody else. I could understand why she was sad, but going around being miserable doesn’t help anybody.

And so a fairly quiet, but quite tasty, meal was had. I got to take the piss out of Transformers (orange and blue!), read my book, and get lightly sloshed on sherry, and apricot and cherry wines. It was OK.

 
* Later on a friend complained about Steam versus console games, because his dad had came across the downloading-rather-than-copying-from-disk bug. To play Forza 4, I put in the disk, which meant it prompted me to install a patch. I then had to search through the 360’s newly-obfuscated dashboard to find the option to install the game (which isn’t mandatory, but keeps the machine’s internal turbojet spun down). I then ran the game and had to install disk 2, which is necessary if you want a bunch of cars. Then I had to type in two seperate 25-digit codes to download and install the two yay-you-bought-a-new-copy addons, which give you some nice things like the Top Gear Test Track and some cars including a ’65 Mustang and Tesla Roadster. I was glad of the book and the coffee. You can say bad things about Steam, but convenience – even compared to console games – isn’t one of them.

** I can’t even spell it unaided.

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Posted 3 January 2012 by Colthor in Diary

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