It's that time of year again. The smell of baking fills the house, sweet and spicy. I feel unnaturally organised and domestic as, on taking two trays of mincers out of the Aga and dusting them with icing sugar, the doorbell rings and visitors arrive unannounced. They are much impressed with my creativity.
'Tea?' I ask. The answer is 'yes, of course - with hot mince pies please'. We all sit down around the log-burner's warm glow to sip our tea and put the world to rights. What a cosy, homely scene it is.Well, that got rid of one tray of pies - our guests wrapped some up and took them home. In case they are stranded between here and Longridge and need emergency Christmas fare perhaps.
I've hidden some away and the remainder are disappearing alarmingly quickly - the Glam.Ass. it seems can't get enough. So - if you would like one, pipe up.