Christmas is coming.

God, I love this posting by email thing. I can post whenever trivial things come to mind.
Like now, when I suddenly remembered, in the middle of musing about my forthcoming visit to Tesco, that they are selling Christmas Crackers, and have been since mid-September, after which terrible revelation I vowed never to shop there again. Unfortunately I feel like making a risotto tonight, and the local Turkish shop, while wonderful, does not stock arborio rice, chicken stock or parmesan cheese. They do have those little tubs of powdered cheese, that masquerade as parmesan, but the brand in this shop isn't very good at it. It even calls itself "Dried Italian Cheese", which frankly screams 'identity crisis'. My mum used to use some terrible stuff called Eurocheese, which she kept in an enormous family sized tub. She brought it on holiday to the Lake District, and when we read the ingredients, it said "Dried Matter, 87%, Fat [or something similarly unpleasant - probably lard or grease] 13%." Eurocheese is now a byword for all things abominable in my family. So it's either horrible Christmassy Tesco's or nothing. Or roasted vegetables with balsamic vinegar, over cous cous. mmmm.
Maybe this stream of consciousness thing should stop. I should consider what I'm writing more. Maybe.