Well, just one sleep until Christmas… the gifts have been procured – well, all but one, which is somewhere between being ordered from an online music site and being physically delivered to the mailbox. Oh yeah, and I really must try and get them wrapped in the next few hours…
Father Christmas aka Santa has apparently been given clearance by the Civil Aviation Safety Authority (have a read of the press release; quite amusing), which is something of a relief. Be a bummer if the RAAF shot him down or he got fined for flying illegally over Australian airspace.
The weather’s looking fine, 29 degrees C for Christmas Day, which is pretty acceptable. My sister is in Italy and reports that Europe is pretty damn cold. Must be odd for her, experiencing a cold Christmas. A quote I read in the newspaper the other day (I’ve been reading the newspaper a lot recently; you could tell, couldn’t you):
We can’t replicate an Australian Christmas over here. It’s too cold. Sometimes it snows. You can hear sleigh bells. Nah, it’s not like Christmas at all. — Lee Tulloch in New York, The Age, 22/12/99
I remember it used to be that on Christmas Eve, you’d knock off early, have a few drinks with your workmates, then shake everybody’s hand (or give a hug to the ladies) and wish them Merry Christmas and set off home. Everybody on the tram or the train home would be smiling, thinking of getting home to celebrate with their families, a kind of atmosphere unique to Christmas Eve. But now I work at home. It’s about time to knock off now. So I’ll slurp down the last of my water… wish myself a Merry Christmas, and set off to the rest of home, down the hall to the livingroom, where I can already hear the kids gearing up for a big Christmas Eve…
