I frantically tidy up before Christmas orphans arrive. Fiona is first, her mother is in hospital care, her son is unwell in bed and her dad is too tired to come. Then David, divorced, both parents deceased, but he's arrived with ham, and veges from his garden. Kritara from Germany is next. Then Judith who emigrated from England, recently separated, daughter in UK. She tells stories I've never heard in the twenty years I've known her. Suze is last. She grew up in Christchurch, now lives in Auckland, but her mum is in an old folks' home here and not well. We eat croissants, ham, cheese, tomatoes, tiramisu, and have a good chat. I start dishes and pack up to keep to my timeline. At the sink. I scrape new potatoes but I don't have time to prepare the salad I promised, and I've forgotten to cook the beef.
When we get to Alex's everyone else is in much the same state. Organised but not ready. So we work together to get a mountain of food choices on the table. I sip bubbly, the kids are playing and we're all in relaxed, Christmas dinner is about to happen, mode. Kosta and Despina cook my beef fillet at their place, across the lane. Alex and Theo keep checking on the leg of ham that's nearly too big to fit in the oven. By the time we sit down, I'm hungry. We eat and talk, eat and talk. Family and a few add on's. Dessert is slow so I head into the southerly for a swim. The sky is grey and the wind is chilling, but the water is warmer than the beach air. Life guards are on patrol for three of us.
I dry off and visit Armana with a present. She's got a pile of them to unwrap and it's more fun with company. I return for a big plate of dessert- I've been gone so long, the others are about to send out a search party. Christmas is different this year. Smaller, more intimate, just as fun.
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