Good morning to all of you on this last weekend before Christmas. Hardly seems possible that the year is almost over.
In about an hour I shall couple up my camper and take off on the three hour drive to my daughter’s house in Canberra. I hope I remember to drive with an excess of caution with double demerit points until the 1st January. in NSW I shall heave sigh of relief when I enter the ACT.
Not done much this morning, was at the supermarket at 7am basically to buy litre carton of custard for the Christmas pudding. Then I went to the grog shop for brandy before I remembered it is Sunday and they don’t open until 10am
Apart from that I spent the rest of the morning checking oil and tyre pressures and packing those last few odds and ends - actually seems a lot of trouble for a few days away as I will be back here on Thursday. Even though I know I will enjoy every minute of it. Love Christmas especially now that I am no longer the host and in charge of the barbie
It will be warm in Canberra over Christmas - definitely BBQ weather:
That was yesterday’s forecast obviously but nothing has changed since then.
Anyway, have a wonderful Sunday, I presume most of you have taken the whole of next week off (you can be sure that 90% of workers here will).
Enjoy the rest of the weekend. Take care
Along by Merry Christmas Time
Along by merry Christmas time they buy the aged goose,
And boil the dread plum pudding, because of ancient use.
But to sneer at old time customs would be nothing but a crime,
For the memory of the Past is all bound up in Christmas time.
Then Jim comes home from shearing, and he puts a few away,
With Dad, perhaps, or Uncle, but they’re right on Christmas Day:
For be it on the Never, or ‘neath the church bells’ chime,
The family gets together, if they can, at Christmas time.
And, after tea at Christmas, they clear the things away
And play the dear old silly games our grand-folk used to play
And Dad gives a recitation that used to be the joy
Of all the Western countryside, when Father was a boy.
Along by merry Christmas time, and ere the week is o’er
We meet and fix up quarrels that each was sorry for.
Our hearts are filled with kindness and forgiveness sublime,
For no one knows where one may be next merry Christmas time.
Henry Lawson