A woman named Flamingo Dancer buys a Christmas ham


The antidote for being boring is spontaneity, or so claim the Google Experts. Add a “twist” to normal activities, they suggest.

Having decided that The Flamingo Dancer was on the grey side of boring, I decided to shake those tail feathers and try a spot of spontaneity, add a twist to my day.

The first spontaneous thing I decided to try, was getting out of bed on the opposite side to where I normally rise. A change is as good as a holiday, after all. Giddy with excitement, I rolled onto my right side to exit from the right side of the bed and my head hit an immovable object. I had neglected to take in the fact that Mr FD was still residing on his side of the bed. He was unaware he was now slumbering in the exit lane.

My forehead had taken quite a whack from his solid form, so my next moment of spontaneity was to brew coffee instead of tea as my first beverage of the day. Well, I would have, but we were out of coffee. I settled for tea, as usual. However, I did inject some whimsy into the day, by drinking from a “guest” mug and not one of my regular, favourite mugs. It had a crack in it, and dripped tea down my shirt front.

In the mood for baking, I eschewed my usual muffin recipes, and threw all caution to the wind to bake banana and sultana cinnamon muffins. Nom Nom. Spontaneity might just be worth the effort. 

Feeling that I was on the way to a fulfilled, spontaneous, non-boring life, I ventured out with Mr FD in tow to purchase a Christmas Ham. We went to a supermarket in the next town just on the whim for adventure and I practically danced through the front doors, sure that our ham would have little angels circling it as a sign of support for my new life style.

We found the meat department and stood in front of the ham cabinet, ready to scrutinise, knock and knead thereby selecting the finest ham ever shared by the Flamingo Dancer Family.

No angels circling, but I suspect a few flying pigs may have been nearby, for residing in a large fridge cabinet was…one ham. I guess it was Saturday, and I guess it is peak ham season, and no doubt they would be restocking that night, but we were standing there and then.

“That makes choosing easy”, said Mr FD. He could hear the distant call of his armchair.

When Mr FD sets out on a mission, he will not be deflected. That is, unless there is a coffee, or a good lie down, on offer. He would not return home empty handed! The ham, though, was huge. I was not even sure it would fit in our fridge. Who thinks to measure their fridge before buying a leg of ham? Mr FD was not in the mood to debate, so the ham made its way home with us. Man saw meat, man took meat.

Indeed, it fills an entire fridge shelf. I don’t have a roasting dish that it will fit in, and I doubt if it would fit into the oven anyway, so no glazed ham on the menu.  Augie Dog is going to love that ham bone when it comes his way!

I am not sure where that all measures on the spontaniety gauge. Somewhere between an emergency appendectomy and  receiving a letter from the council telling you they misread your water meter and here is your seven dollars and fifty-eight cents refund cheque, which means you will have to actually make a trip to the bank to deposit seven dollars and fifty-eight cents.


5 thoughts on “A woman named Flamingo Dancer buys a Christmas ham

  1. A friendly neighborhood butcher (do those even exist nowadays?) could saw that ham in half or whatever portions you wish. I had a similar problem when I went shopping for a holiday turkey—there was only one left in the grocer’s case, and it was 27 pounds. When I got it home, I discovered it wouldn’t fit in our refrigerator. I put it in an insulated camping cooler while I tried to figure out what to do. The turkey had thawed out very nicely when a neighbor told me to take the monster bird to a local butcher’s shop, where he took what looked like a table saw and cut it in half, straight down the middle. It meant I had two huge half turkeys to roast, but at least I could get the parts into the oven.


  2. eegads… excitement might be overrated.
    i have a “big ham” type problem sometimes. my freezer is rather small and I frequently forget that fact till home from the store, where I end up playing “freezer tetris”.


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