Leftovers

With great anticipation we dive our spoons into the reheated festive sauerkraut soup. It doesn't bother us that for the last two days every mealtime has consisted of leftovers of the same in our household. Not that the toilet runs could put us off for having any more, this was our neighbour's speciality this time. Full and hearty, three helpings later in my dish and a small shot to wash it down. Although our visit had not started so well, a bottle of english bitter for him to try was not approved. Nothing can beat the taste of a mass produced 'Heineken influenced and owned' Slovak lager rather than a flatter and  deliciously fruity malt produced in a small brewery in Cornwall that I had brought over. But that did not deter his temptation to gossip. Four inches of pot-belly bellowing from below his t-shirt at every exaggerated piece of news he tells. Like our other neighbour from the other day he lives alone and having company round is a special occasion, although he is far too proud to admit to such a thing. 
A less than sobering short trip back through the densely dropping fog and a chance to re-adjust to normal house temperatures (we aren't afraid to wear a jumper here!). A lazy finale to the christmas weekend, with just a few trimmed cuttings cut and a clean out of the outside loo excusing for a need for a hot water wash.
Rumour has it that winter might be starting here next week.