Christmas Day and the sweat is dripping off me and pooling in the wrong places. Have already been to the beach this morning for a bit of a cool down. It was really good but at some point you do have to trek back up through the sand (getting more sand on your ocean-cleaned feet), and return home where the question becomes : should the door stay closed so the aircon can work efficiently or do we put up with a few more degrees and a little breeze? It’s 30C but the breeze still won.
It’s been a busy day with three families in one house. Surprisingly easy and I thank the great Universe for our sons choosing wise women and having great kids. I know I’ve slipped away for a moment to write this because really, a day without words is pretty much a nothing day, but what really matters is that they all know this is the way I roll. and for Christmas I got notebooks and book vouchers. That’s what really matters.
I’m smelling turkey now. This year it’s coming in a new form. I heard the words pasta and coleslaw though what the full menu will be, is still under wraps. What really matters (OMG did I really do that?) is that they heard me say “No more! “I’m having next Christmas on an island!” and all stepped up. One son couldn’t resist reminding me I already live on an island so it was a completely empty threat – but changing the way things have always been done has been rewarding. Fattening as well. But that’s another entirely different story.
Merry Christmas.
Robyn Anderson 