Christmas

Merry Christmas

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Some Christmas thoughts especially for you:

One of my favorite laugh-out-loud authors is P.J.O’Rourke, an American humorist who writes about politics and economics amongst other things. I know it’s difficult to believe that anyone can write anything humorous about politics or economics which was appropriately coined “the dismal science” by, again appropriately it would seem, a Scotsman – Thomas Carlyle. Incidentally, and to tediously continue this digression, he called it that because writing poetry was, at the time (mid 19th century) called “the gay science”. The linkage is somewhat opaque so go figure.

Anyway, back to PJ. He said (I love quotes – less for me to write) “It’s customarily said that Christmas is done ‘for the kids’. Considering how awful Christmas is and how little our society likes children, this must be true.” The guy is obviously hilarious and full of the joys of spring and I thoroughly recommend his books. Actually, he said this before he had kids of his own – he has three – so I’m assuming his attitude has changed if only to not upset the kids (and his wife).

Which brings us neatly and efficiently(ish) to Little D, the second smartest person in this family. Some grinches would suggest that the only good thing about Christmas in summer is not having a stupid sweater competition. But it’s not and contrary to PJ’s now rather ancient assertion, hot or cold it’s about families and especially the kids.

Little D has successfully negotiated prep and is now leaning into the daunting headwinds of Grade 1 but that unimaginable level of stress will not dampen the boundless joy associated with this Saturday’s ripping paper off plastic stuff which is invariably made in China. And I’m sure my baby brothers will be equally thrilled. A box of lego and a few dozen icy sherbets (that’s Oz lingo for beer for the uninitiated) will take Bro 2’s mind off pushing bodies around in most of his waking hours. And whilst Bro 1 will find this Christmas a bigger pain in the arse than usual (that’s a family “in” joke although not as far “in” as a prostate examination), those beers and a New Year grandchild will keep a smile on his face.

The child bride is particularly looking forward to Christmas this year because it’s at Bro 2’s place and not ours. Actually that’s not true. We love doing Christmas because I get to do mostly nothing and we like to drink a lot so don’t have to drive. That’s why we love it. I may be a bit presumptuous here but I’m assuming the CB is as one with my views.

After the last two years I guess we should be grateful our betters are allowing us to associate with our families, in our homes, unmasked at Christmas without fear of arrest and crippling fines. Fortunately our rather cautious political “leaders” are yet to convince a critical mass of the populace that you can catch covid over the internet or by answering your phone but you can bet the whiny socialists have had their communications staff onto it. And it’s only a matter of time – never forget that half of the population (any population) is below average intelligence.

As far as our kids are concerned it’s been a largely uneventful year. As long as you haven’t caught covid that’s a statement of the bleeding obvious because we are somewhat limited in our options what with border closures and lock downs. None of us caught it that we are aware of and we are all vaxed and there’s a danger I’ll go all libertarian here so in the interests of goodwill to all men (yes, “men” – call me traditional), and the fact that I’ve covered it in previous posts on this blog, I’ll leave it there.

The CB and I did get to Hamilton Island with daughter, son-in-law and Little D. The highlight was a family snorkelling expedition (with a couple of pros) with Little D all done up in her anti-jellyfish suit, snorkel, mask, flippers and life jacket. There is nothing quite as genuine as a five-year old’s shrieking joy at seeing numerous colourful Nemos flitting in and out of the Great Barrier Reef coral and through her legs.

My mother had very kindly offered to take a bunch of us on a cruise and we were all set to go in November. Unfortunately the longevity and validity of covid related decision making is currently completely unreliable, so today’s music festival is still potentially tomorrow’s complete lockdown and P&O weren’t prepared to operate under those circumstances. Many thanks anyway, Mum.

Christmas 2021 has elements of Christmas 2020 but not to the same extent although, to be fair, last Christmas was pretty restriction free for us. We managed to get together with family and friends and saw my father off in the respectable Irish way i.e. I only remember about half of the day. There will no doubt be an element of that again this year so Saturday will certainly be a celebration. We hope you get the opportunity to celebrate with loved ones wherever you are and whomever you are with.

Merry Christmas from Us

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We receive a plethora of newsletters from family and friends every year and in spite of fierce resistance over many years I have finally relented and due to this veritable avalanche of pressure have decided to do my own.

Generally these things take the form of retrospectives and we get to hear about things which happened during the year just gone. Having participated actively in said year, we already know a lot of the stuff we get to hear again in newsletters. But this is useful because we drink a lot and the memory certainly needs refreshing now and then.

I’m going to be a bit different and buck the trend by starting out with a piece of news which is yet to happen. The “one we avoid mentioning” gets out of the big-house in January, all being well, good behaviour wise and notwithstanding the accusations and abuse his mother someone has been hurling at various politicians recently about the lack of internet connections (let alone wifi), ipads, wet mess and subsidised (alright, free) housing on release. How is someone with no obvious talent and zero prospects supposed to get on in the world? A question we should all ponder deeply at this giving time of the year.

Norman had as good a year as can be expected in the circumstances. He does get a bit lonely but when his imaginary fiends, sorry friends (bit of a Freudian slip there) come to visit he bucks up measurably. We do occasionally worry about him running that hostelry all on his own; God knows he was never able to make his own bed let alone someone else’s and how he survives eating bark we will never know. One of Jimmy’s little playmates went up to see him in June. He hasn’t come back yet so we expect they are having a rollicking good time. And he does telephone us occasionally. He never says anything, that’s how we know it’s him. Either him or an Indian telemarketer on a bad line but we hope for the best and assume it’s him.

Speaking of Indian telemarketers, Deirdre broke her own record this year. She switched phone plans 47 times and managed 836 free long distance calls to Sub Saharan Africa. She doesn’t know anyone in Chad but figures you have to get your money’s worth and if those clowns keep offering, she’ll keep taking – pretty much our family’s motto really. She has quite a reputation in the telemarketing sphere although the timeshare people have stopped inviting her to their events, After the 8th free holiday without buying into one of those things they decided she might be taking them for a ride. Never known anyone who can consistently say “no” under so much pressure. Still we know she’s a pushover in other things if you know what I mean. Deirdre’s little kiddies Abdul, Takahito and Adriana say hello.

Jeffery emerged from the cellar last week. We hadn’t seen him for a few months and it was nice to see his pasty face again. Can’t understand why he spends so much time down there. He seems like such a popular boy. People are always knocking on our door and asking for him, especially his friends in the police force. He seems to prefer night time to day time. We know he goes out at night because we hear him sometimes dragging things across the floor to the cellar door – nearly worn out the carpet he has. Whatever he’s making down there must be big because he’s dragged a lot of stuff. We are a bit concerned about his personal hygiene though because the smell emanating from down there can be quite overpowering sometimes. I’m sure he’s not using that bath we installed for him.

Duane, bless him, is in a bit of a lather. He turns 28 just after Christmas. Now this would not normally present a problem and hasn’t for 27 years. To put this into context, Duane and his chums have put their 3 songs on Youtube and they have had over 5000 hits (there’s a pun in there somewhere). Ordinarily this would be good except all of those hits were from the band and a few hangers on – their wives for example. Duane wanted to be a rock god by the age of 27 so now the only way he thinks he can achieve this is by doing a Brian/Jimi/Janis/Jim/Amy and join the 27 Club. So his wish for the season of goodwill and joy to all men is to drown in his own vomit. We suggested a Brian Jones exit via the swimming pool might be a bit more dignified but he insists so we insisted he buys his own booze and drugs.

We can’t leave Drako and Darth out of this narrative – wouldn’t be fair since the pets have contributed significantly to the absence of birds (“how’s the serenity”) and unwelcome visitors (any visitors actually). With a name like Drako you’d expect the attack poodle to spend a good proportion of his time on a broom stick. He does in a manner of speaking and when he stops crapping on the kitchen bench we’ll permanently remove the broom handle. Darth spends his time waiting for birds to fly into his mouth, lazy sod. Surprisingly, occasionally they do. Who said sheep were the dumbest animals on the planet. With the attention span of an amoeba and the wherewithal of gravel, dumpy Darth has the life of a hooker – hours of inactivity interspersed with short periods of intense activity when he has to chew. Poor old Road-Kill the hamster left us this year. He is now a skid mark on the underpants of Main Street.

Nearly forgot. Uncle Hannibal is coming round on Christmas Day. Said he might bring someone for lunch. He’s a bit of an intellectual is Uncle Hannibal and this really attracts members of the opposite sex (not sure which one in Uncle H’s case) so he usually brings someone quite tasty.

Just to finish off, we have the annual Christmas present wish-list. A bit of a pointless exercise really because we don’t get all of the things we want all of the time only some all of the time or all some of the time.

Elmer wants a chain saw and a large block of ice……no…hang-on….he just said a large freezer will do. Oh, and a bucket.

Harmony wants a tent so she can join the Occupy movement in the town square. She also wants tent pegs that are really, really sharp because the square’s all concrete.

Duane – see above.

Dion, Duane’s twin brother wants Duane’s wish to come true so he can replace him in the band.

Uncle George wants you to sit on his lap and talk about the first thing that pops up. He does this every year and cousin Penelope has fallen for it 16 times in a row.

Me, I want                               (that’s it – philosophy really is crap isn’t it?)

 

Thought I’d finish off with something a bit esoteric (that bit just up a bit) – we’re not all bogans, criminals and hillbillies you know.

Merry Christmas (none of that Happy Holidays crap here, mate)

A Cautionary Christmas Tale

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My Facebook page was hacked yesterday. I have no idea why anyone would want to do such a thing although they did manage to imply that I recommended a certain type of face moisturiser. It wasn’t even my favourite brand sweetie. Anyway, since I was on FB and had a few minutes to spare, I went looking for something from the past to put here, having just reminisced about our blockbusting, stadium filling (if Coldplay can do it, anyone can) musical combo. I found this Christmas story from a few years back and here it is for your reading pleasure.

So that’s the Christmas Eve job list done and dusted.
– Two dead trees near the dam chain-sawed and disposed of. Ahead of the Season of Goodwill, all latent aggression dispersed.
– New plants and herbs watered – a stinking hot day today so they need it. Who’d be a lettuce in Queensland in summer.
– Vine infesting one of our hedges chopped and poisoned. Not funny climbing into a hedge of grevilleas. Arms look like I’ve been sparring with the cats.
– BBQ moved from the shed to the deck in preparation for tomorrow. Managed to prevent it escaping down the driveway and finishing up in the next post code.
– Full gas bottle attached to same.
– Additional tables moved from shed to deck (after checking for red-back spiders, hiding snakes etc).
– Fridges stocked to the gunwales – experience tells us that when this family has a “do” the gunwales aren’t high enough.
– Tinselly stuff hung round the deck. Tinselly stuff picked up and re-hung after breeze proved too strong for blue-tack. Tinselly stuff picked up again, screwed up and shoved back in box to be re-hung when the breeze dies down a bit.
And the final chore:
Step 1 – remove beer from fridge
Step 2 – take beer to pool and put next to edge of pool
Step 3 – dive into pool, swim to other end then return
Step 4 – drink beer
Step 5 – repeat steps 3 and 4 ad nauseum
Note – Step 3 not compulsory.

A few hours later……..

Well, what an eventful Christmas Eve. Completed the beer ritual mentioned above then escorted the child bride round the estate while partaking of a glass of bubbles (origin New Zealand, but not to worry). Koalas successfully located and all well with the world. Graduated from bubbles to red (and in the CB’s case white) wine and settled down to watch the Royal Variety Performance. Recognized Dame Edna, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Jimmy Carr. The rest were plastic people presumably from some talent show. Then it was time for bed – we didn’t want Santa to turn up and here’s us still awake. So hit the shower at 11.00pm.

We have a small foot rest in our shower which, as the name suggests, you rest your foot on when washing it. So I put my foot on it as I have done most days of the 7 years we’ve been here. It takes a little weight but obviously you don’t transfer the whole ponderous bulk to this one small foot rest or you are inviting trouble. Anyway, it collapsed and I hit the floor of the shower. As I lay there mentally reviewing the potential damage from top to bottom, I realised that the absence of bones protruding through skin was due to the fact I was quite relaxed. So I gingerly stood up and realised I’d been lying on a bed of ceramic shrapnel.

All was okay though except for my red left arm. It hadn’t been red that I’d noticed when I got in the shower but there it was leaking vital bodily fluids onto the floor of the shower. Bummer. Anyway, the CB did a wonderful job patching up my arm (too pissed to drive to hospital and not serious enough to bother the ambulance) which has a number of rather nasty gashes in it. Nothing she can do for the shoulder which feels like it hit the ground first but even though it’s on the right side, won’t prevent the important events of the day. So first port of call this morning is the emergency room at Prince Charles Hospital to get stitched up then back here prior to the commencement of festivities which I might add, will not be affected by this unfortunate occurrence.

12 stitches from a babe of a doctor who looks like she is on her way home from a Christmas Eve party and a tetanus shot later and normal programming is resumed. Liquid painkillers beckon.