#christmas (fiction and non-fiction).

“Well, here we go.” This is the first thought that comes to mind when I decide to get out of bed after several turf moments. Al there is a pounding #snowman already pretty in my head.
I heard the kids rummaging downstairs. The blankets I knock off, my one leg I dragged over the edge of the bed and with the same movement I slip on my side to be able to drop off with my arm to get high. It's still a challenge to get out of this bed.

I sit at the edge of my bed with my shoulders bent inwards, my feet just don't touch the ground and my head hangs down. I have to talk myself into courage to get up. Gently I slip down until my feet touch the ground. I find my slippers next to my bedside table and the mountain of laundry, slide on the sheep's wool felted slippers and walk down with the loose joints. With these slippers the staircase is very slippery and I have to pay attention to how I walk, his disadvantage of a painted staircase.

My head, my arms, basically everything feels heavy. Almost in one line I walk through the corridor and the part to the hall where my boots stand. I put them on with my old warm coat. I open the door and feel a gentle cutting wind passing past me. The tingling sensation that goes down my cheeks causes me to get a rill all over my body. I feel my breathing immediately to shoot high, in a reflex I close my eyes and put my hand on my stomach. After a few breaths, I walk out and gently open my eyes.
What I see then makes me happy. It's going to glow a little in my belly. I can feel my corners of my mouth curling up.
There are my sweet babies in a white world. 3 pairs of eyes look at me. The eldest haunts at me, with the result that three ponies greet me with their own sound. Their beautiful stature belonged in a white world.

The crunch of the snow under my feet makes me feel like I'm dancing, that I walk on clouds, and then you are sung by not only the horses, but also the goats and sheep welcome me.

First I walk to my old man of 26 years. My dear ol. With my bare hands, I grab his nose to kiss him. His ears go forward, his head a little high and his nose also finds my cheek. “Good morning, sweetie, have you slept well? It's beautiful, isn't it? ” Our Lars and Sjors are also coming. Even though Sjors runs a little woody, like walking on eggs. You can't see the path to the stable because of the amount of snow that has fallen. I open the sliding lock from the stable door where their food stands and grab a carrot for the horses. In a rolling motion, the three of them come walking towards me. Sjors now runs well, it will be the caution with which he walks, because such sweet Shetlander hats in the snow is a lot different than fjords hooves.
With taste and greedy carrot love they eat him. The chewing is not over yet or their heads are already stretched up again to be able to take a new root. I don't have one now, a pet on their nose is a sign that it's gone and I walk in to make some preparation for their food. Their large black specie tub is ready to be filled with hay.
I feel the dram and twisting at the fence. As I walk out with the crowded specie tub, three noses stand impatiently in front of me to grab the first tufts of hay. With a swing, I try to avoid that.. However, this does not work very well because at the moment I swing to the right with the Kuip I feel no ground under the left sole of my boot. My balance is gone and I realize I'm going to fall. I'm trying to break my fall by waving my hands back. But unfortunately, my left buttock falls first to the ground, filled by my left hand.
A big shot of pain shoots through the left side of my body.
The specie tub is in front of me, the hay is also scattered around me and the horses. Three heads with full and crowded mouths are facing me and three sets of eyes looking at me with a look of “what are you doing? ”

Careful I sit right up. Everything seems to work and be able to move as it should, although it goes less smoothly than before I started giving hay it also gives a bit of burning sensation in my buttocks, arm and shoulder.
Fortunately, it was more of a slider than a trap.
I pick up the big pieces of hay to put back in the Kuip to finish my job. Usually I only want the hay in the slow feeder because it gives his crap all that hay in the sand of the paddock. So I walk down to the walk-in barn to fill the slow feeder with hay.
Because the hay is spread over the snow, the horses eat it nicely until the last crummel.

During the coffee we ask what the schedule is. From my toes I feel an irritation bubbling up which goes towards my breathing. I can't hide it. It's seen.
The blood quickly rises to my head and gets very hot at once, giving me a blush on my cheeks, and clammy hands.
At the same time I feel a shooting of pain going through my left buttock. This is because I sat down for a while in the rattan dining chair where the pillow was taken out by my youngest daughter.
Volatile I look at the clock to see what time it indicates. It's 10.33 a.m.. Still plenty of time to prepare for dinner tonight.
The planning was originally one course. Just a piece of meat, vegetable and a potato thingy. Still, I did it, I went for a 4 course dinner. Simple, not too difficult, but still quite a bit of work on my neck.
“Mommy is about to start preparing dinner for tonight. It will be a cold appetizer, a hot between dish, a main dish and a dessert.
At the same time, the question arises if I need help. As always, I say no, this because I just want to stand alone in the kitchen. The draining around me, constantly asking if it's right, is it enough, where does it say, what is that, causes me irritation only to get bigger and that is not conducive to my mood. Speaking of mood, that's not best at Christmas. Actually, I don't like Christmas at all.
No secret is made of that either! Still, every time I try to do my big best or keep the ulcer right. This takes so much effort that it's at the expense of my appetite.

I know I'm doing the family so much fun with my cooking. Days I'm breeding what kind of goodies I'm going to make. I order the most beautiful piece of meat, I come up with the best salads, I create the most beautiful and most delicious desserts. That is where my catering training comes in handy. The knowledge I gained during my hospitality career. But also the big dose of guts or to do. Good taste, patience but above all love.

On a good day I can lose myself in the dishes made in. But now, again this year it is at the expense of my desire to enjoy it.
I also know that the days after Christmas will take its toll in terms of mood.

A nettle is even less irritable than I am. How can I turn this around? ? This will be my project for the coming year. Because it's gonna be a few more days before we start singing the year. Well, I know my dear horse friends are going to help me. How do I not know yet? That's what we're looking for.





Short story#christmas#25December