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This is a timely reminder that I could do work/school mornings better…

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Autumn has so far included:

my partner getting quite a bit of surgery

my daughter turning 12

weather too hot for autumn

floods

soup made out of anything left in the fridge

bike riding again, finally

him, oil painting

me, submitting an essay for a book

an engagement cake

the storm shall pass

preparing the kitchen garden for replanting

a new job, and having to take my kids to work for the day because my partner is re-admitted for surgery, and the 7 yr old getting lost after taking himself to the toilet while I am away at a one and a half hour meeting (I know!) and coming across a stately gentleman in the corridors and asking him where I might work and that man, of course, being the CEO, and him telling my son to go down there and hang a right.. and taking my kids home later that evening at precisely the correct time because by then my son was relaxed enough to flip the bird to himself in the mirrors in the elevator.

 

 

 

 

 

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“Holy fuck. Our children!”

– Text message from another parent witnessing the disorganisation of her kid and mine in getting themselves to high school.

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In the subtropics, around the middle of summer things start to die in the heat so Christmas is a strange presence in the season, although I guess not unlike Christmas being situated in the dead of winter in the northern hemisphere. Because the season of summer is not associated with new life here, but rather with the onset of destructive storms, bush fires, drought, and burning sun. Kitchen gardens are largely left to rest. The weeds grow furiously but otherwise everything feels very slow in the humidity.

Storms signal Christmas is coming and the garden succumbs to the mix of overgrown and death.

For me, the foods of summer are all Mediterranean, Mexican and Asian and seem to come in the colours of Christmas. And we eat out in the garden unless the mosquitoes are terrible.

My favourite part of Christmas is all the spontaneous socialising. Friends who message you to tell you they have two Cabernets and are waiting out the rain in a quiet corner, so hurry up and join them in the bar… and other friends who invite you and your kids to swim in their pool and share pot luck dinners together, and friends who beg you to be invited over because their kid is going spare and they want to talk and laugh with you, and all the playfulness and, the exposed skin and lying under a fan even, the goddamn craft (which now includes sewing by my kids).

And this year it included for me a writing deadline for (hopefully) another book anthology next year.

Previous views of December here:

2015

Interestingly, I didn’t post photos in 2014.

2013

2012

2011

2010

2009

2008

2007

I love to see what December looks like in your part of the world, so if you care to, leave a link to your own December photos in the comment section.

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Though she’s still a couple of years off being a teenager, increasingly I see flashes of the future in my daughter, Lauca. The colicky baby and incredibly challenging child are still there though.

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And Cormac has always been half-teenage boy, though he’s currently seven years old.

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The other day a reader/blogger who also follows me on Instagram noted that my photo feed has the intimacy of domestic life that used to be on my blog. It’s true. My Instagram account is locked and having that little bit more control over the audience has allowed me to feel more myself over there in recent times. If you’re a reader here and I sorta know you then you are welcome to follow me on Instagram.

 

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