(no subject)

Today I was delivered a Hush Puppy box full of yummies from the UK. Two recipe books by Gareth-the-Baker, one of which is entitled "And we must eat of the Yellow Wobby Bits", with a critical comment by Henry Hog which delcares "What a load of tripe!". These came with the December issue of Good Food, including a calendar *and* a carving chart. The prize of the whole box, though, is not the Robin Hood bear or keychain, nor the strange little green thing nor even the mouse-shaped chocolate or the postcard or the thing-from-a-restaurant. It is, of course, a copy of the newly-republished "Daughters of the Grail" by Elizabeth Chadwick, from whom this parcel came.

Amnt friends wonderful? Although I do worry about myself and that green thing: we're developing a strange kind of relationship.

PS No, you may *not* have my Robin Hood bear. Don't even think of asking.

(no subject)

Did I forget to say I have Nottingham lace? I was talking about Nottingham lace just this weekend and there was a little sachet made of it in my parcel. One happy Gillian.

In fact, one very smug Gillian because I got to read Good Food instead of working tonight and to admire the lace and just generally feel that life is wonderful. I was so happy I made little parcels of chocolates for friends who drop by during Chanukah outside party time. Milk chocolate pralines and dark chocolate macadamias. There'll be chocolate at the party-thing, too, (16 December, from 2 pm till late, be there or forever regret missing out) since I am full of benevolence and joy.

Maybe the benevolence and joy was packed into my parcel along with the lace? Or maybe it's the sheer relief at finishing revision of a healthy chunk of novel today.