Home, where the potatoes are growing

Having learned many things on our Christmas journeying, and having had a substantial amount of fun with friends and relations (losing none in the process, not even Small), we are returned to the domestic regions.

Where, in our absence, the garden has gone wild. I believe it may have rained a drop or two while we visited southern climes. All the plants are twice the size they were a week ago, and many are festooned with large blooms. Especially the hydrangeas which have the most festoony flowers of all. Ranging from mauve to another shade of mauve, we are lucky to have them across the dull, grey wall of our brick home. Huzzah! I shall omit mentioning the agapanthus after guilt brought on my reading Eglantine's Cake.

The Husband not previously known for his vegetable expertise, unearthed the first home-grown potatoes. We will eat them tonight partly because they look very tasty, and partly because the cupboard is pretty much bare of everything except Whizz Fizz and chocolates (although most of the chocolates are already inside the stomachs). Returning home the day before a public holiday is only a good idea if you are sure you will have the energy to go shopping as soon as you get there. Which we didn't. I think seeing the submarine at Holbrook may have been just too exhausting.

I feel rather odd to be home. It's strange spending such intense time with people you love, and then they aren't available any more. I wish we could all manage to live in reasonable proximity for a while. Not the same city, necessarily, but less than a four hour drive, say.

Things learned on Christmas journeys

1. You don't really learn all that much about what it's really like to live in the country by reading the Billabong books. Or by driving down the Hume Highway.
   
2. The Noodle has a heretofore undiscovered ability to read in the back seat of the car for many hours without experiencing any nausea.
   
3. While hills are more interesting scenery to look at than flat land, if the flat land contains substantial gumtrees and the occasional, unexpectedly large 19th century domestic and/or industrial architecture it can be quite appealing.
   
4. Chiltern is a town worth a short visit.
   
5. Family is quite tiring when collected in one place.
   
6. A family of three can live in two rooms quite happily if they only have enough books to fit in a single shopping bag.
   

Off we go

This year Christmas is happening in Melbourne. For us, obviously. I believe the rest of you are entitled to celebrations in other urban or rural locations as well. Or in space, if you are a cosmonaut working on the international space station.

Whatever you are up to I hope it is a suitable amount of fun. May the presents you give spread the joy of the season, and the presents you receive not end up in the garden shed (unless they are gardening implements).

On birthdays and the nature of work

So here it is, another year gone. I guess it's lucky to have a birthday at the time of year when everyone else is reflecting upon the year-gone-by so that I can have reflective synchronicity. Perhaps people with birthdays at other times of the year have bigger getting-older-and-what-do-I-have-to-show-for-it crises because they have to do it all in isolation.

Anyway, this year I have to reflect that I am in the same career position as people ten to sixteen years younger than me. They are single and spend all of their disposable income on clothes and drink. Which is what I did at 21, of course, I just had less to dispose of than my youthful co-workers do. I don't know if they are happier, but they certainly have a lot more stuff.

The upside is that this point is still a career peak for me. Having a grown-up job is quite the astonishing thing. For one thing, you get paid better and also the work is more interesting. Which is much more important for me personally (partly because if I start thinking about the whole breadwinner thing my head will explode). There's a big part of me that thinks if I'm worrying about getting paid, then I'm insulting the work. Crazy, I know. I think I am fundamentally missing something about our whole economic system (no news there, though). When I used to work at Safeway as a 15-year old I hated lining up for my pay every week. I thought it was rude to ask to be paid. I felt like this particularly because I hated that job so much it made me want to be sick every week, which you'd think would make me keener to get the pay than not, but not.

I was sick once, but that was because I had a thorn in my ankle. Tragically I did not manage to projectile vomit into anyone's actual shopping. I wish I had a better developed sense of narrative and less honesty. No memoirs from me.

For my birthday I got ace presents including a bike (every child and Mum's dream), some books to read on our trip to Melbourne and some bath things from Perfect Potion from my Dad. If you live in Brisbane you should try their things if you are a bathy person. Or just go and stand in their shop for a few minutes to calm your shopping headache. Mum sent me a Judy Horacek shopping bag which made me laugh. And the lads made me pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. And tonight we will eat laksa at the Dickson Asian Noodle House. I will now stop endorsing things.

Restrain your envy, gentle readers. One day it will be your birthday, and I will be doing the vacuuming.

Genius in the family

Although a person knows how intelligent and creative and capable the family members are, it's always nice to receive confirmation from the experts.

On Friday the Noodle brought home his school report. Genius.

Today the Husband received his marks for his Masters research project. Genius.

I, on the other hand, spent the afternoon in the park watching my co-workers playing 'extreme frisbee'. Last week I too was a high achiever. This week, not so much.

Christmas envy

I am suffering a terrible lack of festive spirit overkill this year. Despite Boney M.

The Husband feels that a Christmas tree is unnecessary, since we will be away for Christmas. And I have been too tired and preoccupied with work to assert my natural Christmas nazi-tude and either demand or obtain one. So we have no tree, and no decos. Which is putting me not in the mood for carols, gift-wrapping and general foolishness. Which is what I like doing at this time of year, because it's an excuse to sing loudly, get overexcited and boss other people around a bit but sound not totally horrendous while doing it. So I'm feeling robbed.

The Husband did design highly amusing (to us anyway) Christmas cards, featuring Julia Gillard as an angel of the Lord, or Parliament House with star above and wise men arriving.
But I am so dissatisfied with this whole climate change announcement that I don't find them quite as charming as I did last week (although I refuse to believe that Julia is responsible).

Yesterday I was dumped out of the novel I was reading with a nasty imaginary bump because I realised I didn't like it no, not one bit. Even though many of the settings were familiar, which usually makes a person forgive quite a bit in a book. And I was on the bus, because I am always on the bus, and all I wanted to do was sing Christmas carols, and I couldn't because I was on the bus, and I've been feeling quite peevish ever since.

And tomorrow is the work Christmas party, and only one person has put decorations up in the office. I haven't put any up either, because I don't care, but I find I only don't care so long as someone else does.

Or otherwise I'm just tired and cranky and half my brain is already on holidays and it's got nothing to do with Christmas at all.

Plus I'm nearly 37, which feels like a lot older than 36.

Exciting Times

Because yesterday, after eating well-marinated meat, I was presented with the Boney M Christmas album!!!!

The perfect end to an already lovely afternoon.

So Feliz Navidad to you all.