Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

 

 

Earlier last week, I took a ‘me’ day- I had intended to spend my morning helping a friend make cake pops, and the girls have been asking to take a cantine meal, so I decided on the ‘me’ day.  It helped me even more that Tuesday is Alex’s long school day- she finishes at 5:15- and another friend had invited Beth for a play date until the 5:15 pick-up, so there I was, a full day of nothingness planned.  (The cake pop session was later canned).

After mid-morning coffee, I headed home with every intention to sit and write to you, once again, all about Christmas, but a weeks worth of clothes that needed packing away, the end of the Christmas baking and dinner cooking got in the way.

It is now 2 days later, I did not have to do the morning school run, but unfortunately I am so irritated this morning by the political exploits going on back home that I am so far off writing anything nice and cheery about the Christmas vibe.  I have many hateful things to say about that idiot presiding over his disgusting ego, but it’s not what you really want to hear.  (But I am going to lament the fact that my Christmas lunch planned for Friday was going to end up costing me more than I planned, purely because it was my intention to use my inherited ZA rands ;-(. And not to forget about Dad who is visiting in two weeks.  Fucking Jacob Zuma.  You are such a royal expletive.)

So moving on.

Last Christmas Day evening, after a glorious sunny day on the farm, the family settled in to bed, and our suitcases were mostly packed up for our return to The Big Smoke, I was sitting on the veranda at my folks.  It commands a view of the old house, a beautiful night sky, and under the moonlight, you can make out the line of the Inhlosane mountain in the background and the shrubbery on the hill that falls down into the Elands River.  That evening the temperature was perfect- not cold enough to need something on my shoulders, and not hot enough to feel uncomfortable.  Perfectionism in life doesn’t come easily. In that moment, it could have been.  In the bigger picture, perfectionism it was most certainly not.

Three hundred and fifty something days down the line (plus 2 days and a bucket of bubbles after I started this), I can say with conviction, life would never ever ever be the same again.

(V and Leigh; you will absolutely laugh at me right now.  Tic tic tic on a silly phone keyboard, plonk rosé within arms’ reach. Cynical raised eyebrows at the rant and core-wrenching misery meshed up in one nasty un-sober sesh)

Two weeks back we set up our tree. I made an advent candle wreath. I baked fruit cake. I mulched together a dough of ginger cookies. We walked to town for waffles and vin chaud. I think I forced myself to embrace the Christmas festivities. And it was easy.

The closer we have got to Christmas the un-soberer I have become. Vin chaud.

Sunday lunches.

Ladies lunches.

Birthday parties.

I had a massive chuckle on Friday after racing to school to pick up the girls. We left the restaurant 10 minutes before pick up. We were on bicycles and had to cover 3kms. I could live in this cuckoo land for a while.

I had forgotten my 2013 Christmas. I had forgotten the bredele baking. I had forgotten about the beautiful lights, the streets scented with roasting chestnuts, with its smells of chocolates and hazelnuts, creamy Riesling sauce for lardons et spatzele, Christmas, pine. For a while, I came close to ignoring it all. Did I deliberately forget the European traditions so that my last Christmas with Mom will stay in my mind for as long as I can?  Or have I just been lazy?  But there is no escaping it.  And I have realised that so long as I have things to do, my soul doesn’t feel so empty.

I have a week of the school term left before our Christmas holidays- a week to wrap up the gifts we’ve bought, make some more biscuits for another school party, and start cleaning up for Dads next visit.  I also need to plan dinner menus, and decide when to buy the foie gras, lamb leg, and if I should make get some Gammon in Germany or here.

I haven’t been a good Carr, and I have not sent out any cards.  I am sorry.  My wishes to you are going to come from here.  And because I am not sure what time I will have in the week ahead, I am sending my shout out to you now.

For us, Christmas is family time.  In our modern times none of us live next door to our family.  Collectively, as twenty-some-things, we launch ourselves out into the bigger world.  Our need for independence means that friendships become the norm, and family is often in the background, to fall back onto when you need it.  However, Christmas is always that time of the year when we will return to our families.  Treasure it, because as many of us have realised this year, your family will not be there forever.

It has been a tough year.  I have 3 close friends who lost parents within 5 months of us losing Mom, not to mention the ones who lost parents before May. V, Jann and Megs, my thoughts are with you especially this Christmas, and to everyone who has had a tough year, I am with you in my thoughts.  I guess I can just say to you to count your blessings, and live for the moment.

From all of us, to all of yours, Joyeaux Noel et bonne annee, and may 2016 bring you happiness.