consume till you can consume no more

Our Christmas was like a million others so there is little need for many words. Up early, distribute and open presents, eat and drink far too much. I put far more bottles of bubbly into th recycling bin than I recall us drinking; recall clearly at fault. Bub, Sis and Granny (now a great grandma) had joined the throng and upped the average age considerably. Michele's mum Pat joined us after lunch. Sis - or Bub, I cannot get which is which to stick in my memory - has in the past had an eye problem of her own, possibly glaucoma. An at the time cutting edge procedure, she had an injection straight into the eye that restored her sight in that eye almost immediately after 5yrs. Wow. There was a risk the procedure would leave her blind in both eyes, but it did not. A big call; risk the good eye in an attempt to get the bad one back. After 5yrs. That impressed me.

Diner was traditional. That meant turkey, pork and ham, veggies, roast spuds and gravy followed by plum pudding with ice cream, cream and custard. All that after snacking before lunch on cheese and mince pies. And spiced nuts Mara style that were top draw tucker.

Jo and Nige wanted to take the boys to the beach after lunch and I tagged along. Still wary of my own eye frailties and having a little too much champagne and plum pudding on board I sat and stood and let the world go on around me. The shirt stayed on to protect shoulders I'd managed to burn on my lawnmowing and Saturday run. The kids, Nige included, had a great time playing in the unseasonally chilly water and then, fresh air in lungs we headed back home. Scare of the season went to Nige in the car park as Jesse wriggled free of the pushchair and headed out, head first towards the asphalt. Lightening quick reactions from Dad averted disaster as Nige managed to grab an ankle just in time, to gasps of 'nice catch' from guys driving by in a ute. Nige admitted afterwards that his heart rate was way up and he was still in shock. But all ended happily, and Jesse seemed to have no idea of the part he played in knocking a few years off of Dad's life.

When we got back the oldies had gone and the day slowed to a crawl as the rest of us, bloated yet still snacking, picked out comfortable spots and beers and let it all sink in. Or digest. Or something. At some point we tidied the lounge room and the sofa bed that was Sal's and my bed was brought back to the lounge from the front verandah. I planted myself on it and fell asleep, waking up only to turn it from a sofa into a bed and to go straight back to sleep. Santa has left the building.

For the record, presents recieved were new bike shorts, new running gear (vest/shorts/socks), hankies, Australian slang dictionary, boxer shorts, coat hanger and shortbread bisciuts (shared with Sal), 'League of Gentlemen' complete box set, vouchers for funky online Aus store (shared with Sal), $100 part of my Camelbak. I'm sure I've forgotten somthing and offended someone. Kids got cool stuff. Lots of trains, an Ark and animals and so on. Everyone happy.