WAS it merry and bright? Ours was but I didn't manage to get a record of it - there were platters to put out, pavlovas to make, salads to dress, presents to pass around, people to hug, celebrations to be had, good news to be shared, tears, cheers and beers (pear cider for me). The family snapped a few good shots including a typical Christmas action pic of me. I've whacked it up on Facebook. The rest of my photos were little festive cameos taken leading up to Christmas Day.  

We're now basking in a kind of post-Christmas, holiday ease. I'll crack open a leftover bottle of pear cider tonight and think of you. 

IT'S quiet in the house this morning. I've been up, saluting the sun, drinking tea, making a list of all the things I need to do today. Tomorrow the house will be noisy, messy, food will fill the table and drink will flow. The boy is back from his weekend of camping and the girls - and their fellas - will drift in from interstate, around the corner and most likely from the surf to decorate the tree. It's an annual gathering, a tradition marked by each of the children getting a new decoration to hang, Bing Crosby playing through the house, fighting over the placement of tinsel, a spat and crazy Christmas crumping. 

Merry Christmas to you and yours. Wear your sunscreen, eat a banana Paddlepop, or two, and make sure you get a nana nap in after lunch on Christmas day.

THE work Christmas party was Friday and though more champagne was thrown down the hatch then I'd usually imbibe in, I came up OK on Saturday morning. Best of all, I'd booked a room in the city, bought tickets to the Picasso exhibition at the Art Gallery of New South Wales and had my flats packed to enjoy a day hoofing it around the city. What I didn't drink in champagne, I made up for in macaron scoffing. Someone stop me eating. Seriously.

Because I've been asked, here is the Christmas wish list.