Merry Christmas

As you would expect in this toppsyturvy year we're having, Christmas morning is cold and wet. I just checked the rain gauge, 20ml overnight which follows 16ml two nights ago. Shrubs are drooping with the weight of water, so different to last week when the garden was parched, wilted and dusty.
The rain is a godsend for people in the fire districts. Most of the fire fighters have gone home for rest and Christmas day with their families. It's still raining, I've delayed my walk and may postpone it. Lib, me and the boys plan to visit Lyle in hospital this morning then have lunch at the farm with Elvie, Meredith and Roger, and Joddy. Then we'll come home and prepare the potatoes, pumpkin, parsnip, sweet potatoes and carrots which we'll cook in the outside barbie oven with two small pork cuts, and peas and beans on the inside stove. Lib cooked the turkey and made the gravy yesterday evening. Lib's sister Margaret and husband Phil, her mum Molly and the three girls are expected mid afternoon. Marg's bringing entree ( a seafood banquet that has become a tradition), the puddy and nibbles, and Molly pays for the ham which awaits in the shed fridge. A team effort as always.
While house and fridge cleaning yesterday (Lib filled in for someone at work), I put a new heavy grate in the fireplace, cut some kindling and carted wood to the door with the forecast for today a cold 15C maximum. It will be nice sitting by the open fire tonight. Who would have thought it possible earlier, with fires ravaging the bush, prowling like an angry monster from hell? They say 870,000 hectares have gone up so far and with thick smoke stinging eyes and nostrils for days on end, lighting the fire at Christmas would have seemed ridiculous.

Gordon turns 21 today. How well I remember the day he was born. The labour pains started while we were opening presents with Lib's mum and dad at about 11.00am. Lib and I headed off to the hospital in my HQ ute. Marg and Phil and the 3 girls, then little, arrived just as we were leaving. I came home late in the afternoon and put Handel's Messiah on the stereo. As "For unto us a child is given" played loudly I flew higher than ever I have. Fatherhood, first time. A fantastic feeling. This Christmas will be special.

Merry Christmas to my friends who read this blogpost. May God be with you, wherever you are.