Mopping up blood, looking for ninjas and other misadventures

Christmas Eve got off to a bad start.

I got up at 6 am for a drink of milk and there was blood all over the kichen floor.  I couldn't find a body, so I had to look for another explanation.  Eventually I realised that the packet on the hob with the big defrosting chunk of beef in it must have a hole in and the blood was coming from there and running down the front of the cooker.

All I wanted was a drink, but I ended up using about 3 entire kitchen rolls wiping up blood, and then I had to go off and empty the bin because I didn't want to leave stinky blood covered tissues in it.

And by this time I was up so I did some laundry and made the bed and put some stuff in drawers and took some other stuff out of drawers and put some Christmas food into cupboards and that sort of thing.

I wanted to tell Ruth about the things I'd done, and where things were but she was just arriving home from a nightshift as I was leaving for work and I only had time to get a fiver off her for the bus, and not to tell her about the kitchen bloodbath.

I was at work 10 till 6 and I really enjoyed myself.  I don't normally wish strangers Happy Christmas but I did yesterday, and I meant it every time, and a lot of them had that punch drunk look about them where they are out on their feet and they need a cup of tea, so I told them to go get one.

I had some really nice conversations with people about books they were buying.  I reminisced with a man who was buying a fell running book about my two attempts at the Swaledale Marathon, and it brought it all back to me, the pain and the blisters, and also the joy.  And he told me about his attempts at running down hills in the snow, and we talked about fell running in general, and it was all very pleasant

And I got into a conversation about Murakami with a girl who was buying The Elephant Vanishes, and I recommended her some other stuff of his, and we chatted for a while.  It brought back memories of trying to read the Wind up Bird Chronicle on the harbour wall at Mevagissey while Michael was fishing, and again it took me back to happy summer days, and it was great to share my enthusiasm with someone,  Even if a lot of the job is putting stickers on stuff, it's lovely to be able to talk about things you love with complete strangers, and for a few minutes at least to actually know what you're talking about.

Then another bonus.  After weeks of having 15 minute breaks by myself and having to fire sandwiches into myself without them touching the sides I got to have two 45 minute breaks with other people yesterday.  It went to my head and I got verbal diarrhoea.

On the first break I talked about dads and step dads mostly.  I reminisced about the time my mum sent me off in the car with my step dad to try and find his AWOL son who had been going round dressed like a ninja smashing windows with nunchakas, but all we found was a famous Leeds United footballer instead, and I can tell you what a relief that was.  On the whole, it's easier to find Leeds United footballers than ninjas anyway because they play in white whereas ninjas wear black and are like stealth warriors and you're not supposed to be able to find them and when you're 15 and scared of ninjas with nunchakas this is a good thing.

Then on the second break I talked a lot about the prospective imminent death of my whole family from eating food prepared on top of the raw blood from this morning that I hadn't used detergent on, but only hot water and kitchen roll.

About 3 pm I tried to coordinate by text the arrival of my mum for Christmas with the waking up of Ruth, so she could get on with the pot roast dinner, and cook the beef that had been bleeding all night, and in the end my mum had to ring the house phone to get Ruth up, because she didn't want to alarm her by going into the bedroom unexpectedly.

I finished work at 6 and to be honest I'd had enough by 4 because the last hour we were open it was mostly drunk blokes coming in to do some panic buying and I didn't try very hard with a guy who waned an Amy Winehouse book because his breath was nearly knocking me over, and I hope the guy who still had to buy an XBox for his kids and an engagement ring managed to get sorted in time, otherwise he's going to be in a lot of trouble.

And the hour between 5 and 6 was hard too, because it was so hot in the shop that I could have cooked a Christmas dinner on my own head, and I couldn't even eat any free chocolate because I was too dry to get it down and I would have just ended up looking like I'd fallen in some.

I got home at 7 and Ruth was cooking the dinner, and oh my god, you've never seen dinner like it.  She's not on top form after being on nights, and she'd made an incredible disappearing casserole.  My mum had seen her put tons of veg in with the beef but now it had all been completely destroyed.  The beef was still in there, although it was looking fairly black, but the vegetables, which like us are mostly water anyway, had been nuked to oblivion and apart from the meat we only got a teaspoon of caramelised veg out of the dish, and it was the same colour as the meat, so we couldn't find it on the serving plate.

And then there was the mashed potato!  It was like wallpaper paste.  Oh, the bemused faces of my mum and Michael as it was being glooped out of the pan!  As Ruth was still pretty knackered anyway after her night shifts she got as much on the table as on the plates, and it was impossible to wipe up.  I made some gravy to pour on the black meat and the white paste, and thank goodness the cauliflower had been cooked separately and not added to the casserole, because that actually came out looking like cauliflower.

The Murakami story The Elephant Vanishes is about an elephant that gets smaller and smaller until it disappears, and that was a lot like our pot roast.  I don't think it could have been more overcooked if it had been fired round the Large Hadron Collider for the evening.  

I wasn't annoyed with Ruth, because she's been ill and her foot's been hurting and she gets exhausted after nights, and the dinner was so bonkers we just laughed all the way through eating it, and then for the whole evening after and although I was laughing I was hoping we don't burn the Christmas dinner tomorrow, especially the pigs in blankets because I don't want them all black and charred.

I somehow got elected to do the dishes, and I don't know what was worse.  The mashed potato that was like wallpaper paste, and which was 100% not water soluble, or the blackened charred casserole residue.  Anyway, it took me well over an hour and a half to wash up, but there was no way I was starting Christmas Day with last night's dishes, so even though my hands were bright red and I had no fingerprints left I kept going until there was no trace of the dinner left, except on the inside of the bin, where some of the potato was in there sticking to anything that came anywhere near it.

I had a nice chat with Michael about action movies, and special effects when he kept popping in to dry up some pots and I also chatted to my mum while I was slumped over the sink and amongst other things we discussed various methods for dislodging blackened tar and white glue from plates and dishes.  

And about 10 O'clock I finally I got to sit down in the room that we've been trying to get ready for a month.  I had a gin and tonic and we watched Have I Got News for You and Rev and I've never laughed so much in my life, and mostly it wasn't at the TV, it was at the unbelievability of what I'd seen in the kitchen.

And although I started the day cleaning up blood, and I finished it cleaning up dark matter and wallpaper paste, I had a really nice time.  I genuinely felt full of peace and goodwill, and it was lovely sitting around laughing with my mum after she's been so ill recently, and I actually had a conversation with Michael, which is a rare thing these days.  I enjoyed the company of the staff and customers at Waterstone's all day and I enjoyed telling my stories to them and it was one of the best Christmas Eves I can ever remember.

I just hope the Christmas Day dishes are a bit easier, as I've barely got any hands left.