and so that was Christmas

I made mince pies as dawn was breaking on Christmas Eve, then spent the rest of the morning looking for beetroot.  Madam Cyn had emptied out her freezer to fit in 2 crayfish so I was the beneficiary of frozen strawberries and Jill PD had innumerable meaty treats never previously experienced.  She thought it was Christmas.  It occurred to me that this was my chance to make beetroot and strawberry jam. You may recall that I used my phone to photo the recipe in a magazine I was reading some time ago while waiting in a doctor's surgery with Mum.  So yes, I did eventually track down the last beetroots of Spring Bay at a garden stall in Orford.
Nephew Steve and his new wife, Karen, from Singapore visited in the afternoon having a hankering for fishnchips from The Fish Van.

They were a little alarmed as the fire truck, siren blazing, crawled the streets of Triabunna as though hoping for a fire.  We, the cognoscenti, knew it was the annual Christmas Eve lolly drop.

I left the cooking of the jam until Christmas Day.  It is not easy following a recipe on your phone.  A mobile covered in beetroot splatter is a disturbing sight. And then I cut my finger...

It was just Steve and me for Christmas Dinner. The pink eye potatoes were from our garden, the zuch from Omniscient Henry's garden, the ham from the local butcher.  The beetroot jam was not a success.  I consider onions, beetroot and rosemary to be sweet and this is enhanced by roasting them first, which my phone told me to do.  The addition of strawberries, vinegar, cinnamon quill and cloves resulted in a taste of beetroot cooked in perfume.  Total waste of beetroot.
George, Matt and the boys arrived in the late afternoon.  They had lunched at Nephew Kyrle's place in Swansea which is where Nephew Steve and Karen and Steve's daughters and partners were staying.  This has been a wonderful family development.  George and Matt have lived in Singapore for some time.  Steve went frequently to Singapore for his work.  Eventually he decided to board there, and recently married his landlady - Karen!  Karen and Steve invited George and Matt to the wedding.  Despite the Singapore connection, Georgia and her cousin Steve had not met for 24 years, and they all discovered they got on famously.  Karen and Matt love to cook, Kyrle provides the seafood.  They had a feast.
Fortunately I had predicted this so we had prepared a light repast - Steve's sausage rolls, cheeses, mince pies, etc.  No-one interested in my beetroot jam.  Possibly because I told them I'd cut my finger and Georgia said 'I wondered what all the blood was in the bathroom.'  I hadn't realised I'd left a trail.  Maggie Beer has nothing to fear from me.  We retired quite early.  It is so handy having the caravan park next door, and a connecting gate.

To my surprise and delight, there was no hurry to leave the next day.  We went over to the Village to see Steve's current art exhibition, feeding the chickens with weeds on the way.  We had the place to ourselves.  Georgia and I loved looking at the new and old clothes, Matt pored over the records, Kit found a book he really wanted, Rem looked for wildlife. Two enduring images are Jill PD resting her paw on Oscar's foot, and Kit happily reading his book.  Of course there was cricket watching in the studio for those who wanted it.  Bocce in the afternoon.  And everyone getting their own food all day.  I took one photo.

Gorgeous, gorgeous people.