With New Year flights to book and the obligatory calls to make to family over Christmas, Camilla went and did the unthinkable. She dropped her phone in the toilet. While we listened to Frank Sinatra singing about the snow as we sipped our G&T’s in the afternoon heat, Camilla had to reboot an old phone with her Danish SIM. Things didn’t go well. Luckily there was plenty of alcohol on tap because at 6pm on Christmas Eve everything was closed and there was nothing we could do until Boxing Day. 36 hours without comms, whatever would we do?
How would Santa know where to find her without the phone’s pressie tracker app on? And who could blame the big man in red if he chucked a wobbly and launched her presents out of the sleigh because he couldn’t find her, a Dane, who works in Perth, then holidays in the back blocks of NSW?
I feared a Christmas tanty when none of the software Camilla wanted would load onto her phone. With millions of people sending well-wishing Christmas texts and updating their Facebook pages with pictures of kids waiting for Santa, this was not the time to be updating your phone let alone trying to install a whole new operating system. I don’t speak Danish but I got the impression that the f-bomb is fairly phonetic.
Gretta and I were falling about laughing, which is hardly in keeping with the spirit of the season, you know, good will to fellow man and all that. In exasperation Camilla threatened the phone with fates that would have made her Viking ancestors blush. Apparently, being flushed down the loo is not the worst thing that can happen to a phone. Common sense prevailed and the phone started to do what it was told, but not before we had to adjourn for Christmas dinner. Which, because we were celebrating in the European fashion, we were having on Christmas Eve.
Gretta is a conscientious objector of Facebook, but like a social smoker, she is happy to go trawling through it looking for cat pictures after a glass of champagne. Which is why she had my phone after we had posted a Christmas dinner picture online. Even more impressive than footage of a cat lying on its back in a box full of bright yellow chicks, Gretta had found the ultimate chocolate recipe, courtesy of Camilla’s mum. Remarkably simple, all it requires is a block of chocolate and puff pastry. And a really healthy heart.
If we are reduced to having only two ingredients in the house we’ll be in trouble. The fridge is taken up with a ham and the cupboard is full with enough confectionary to stock a sweet shop. Far from experimenting with chocolate recipes we’ll soon be in dire need of fresh fruit.
The prospect of eating more rich food and watching reruns of Love Actually is exhausting. Camilla can work on her phone, but I think it’s time for a nap.
http://saldeflor.com.br/receitas/tranca-folhada-de-chocolate/ – the chocolate