So it rained on Christmas Day. My sardonic inner Londoner appreciated the nod to all things internal winter of discontent and/or Christmas 2012. My outer trying-to-be-literally sunny Sydneysider however, was a little concerned the downpour would ruin her decorations.
Someone has been channelling their angst into craft.
Despite the near-constant downpour it was just so lovely to be back amongst the family and made busy mascerating five punnets of ripe raspberries into a heady cocktail liquer.
Mum and Lovely Boy had spent the last couple of weeks plotting recipes (see: respective playing to strengths. I do alcohol and crepe paper, everyone else does everything else) and LB’s gravalax was one of many highlights.
The sun has been out today thankfully, as has the extended family en fulle force. Why have Christmas day when you can have Christmas festival, right?
It’s been good.
|Thinking back to last year's Christmas in also-not-sunny London|
The last ten days or so have actually been pretty lovely. A very wise and gentle mentor talked me down from the work ledge two weeks ago with a heavy dose of perspective and strict instruction to take a holiday until mid-January because, even if there were things I could do vis-a-vis work, no one is going to want to talk about anything except their tans until February. So I’ve given myself permission to exhale. For now, at any rate.
|From one year and colour theme to the next|