Every day is Christmas

It has been a wonderful week since last I blogged.  Monday 17th saw gym, lunch with Madame Cyn in Hobart, then a tap dancing concert in Swansea.  This was great fun.  Not all the kids knew the steps and the boy had to exit stage right to go to the loo.  One girl was born to dance and did so with vigour, though not necessarily the same steps as everyone else.  But their camaraderie shone through.  There was also a carb loading supper afterwards.

Also time for some early morning garden photos.

Tuesday was zumba then brunch with the Zumbettes.  Some mid morning bubbly which gee-ed up the day.  The last Orford Odeon was a gala event, though we all wish it would continue but David and Gavan say enough is enough.  Her Majesty and I dressed up and wore wigs, which was very liberating.  We had great fun but couldn't dance because we were packed in like sardines.

Wednesday was the last gym for the year.  But, startlingly, Bollywood Dancing has started at The Village fortnightly on a Wednesday evening so I tried it out.  Zumbette Robyn, who is wearing the crocheted poncho above, her husband and sister turned up as did Zumbette Dot, plus a cuppla other locals.  We were certainly put through our paces.  I think it will be possible if we don't panic.

Thursday is usually my day of rest but I had brekkie program at the school in the morning.  It was the students' last day and they were to spend it at the beach, which would have been a joyous occasion if not for the rain.   In the evening I went for drinks at the Magistrate's Cottage.  I've always wanted to see inside and fortunately for me, Mel's Dad is going to live there.  I think he's pretty happy about it too.

Finally Friday came - endless sushi at Peter and Fiona's in Little Swanport.  This is so generous of them.  All day, Fiona churns out sushi,  sausage rolls made with ethically farmed pork from Long Name Farm, and chocolates while we lounge around various rooms in their house (which used to be a guest house) like ancient Romans.  Then back to Tribes for the Christmas Parade.  This marks the true beginning of Christmas for me and I had decorated the tree near our front door in readiness.

This photo says it all.  Something got lost in translation.  The parade was small and not perfectly formed.  I did enjoy myself, even if they failed to go past our house.  I say nothing of the wisdom of having people with bagpipes leading the Parade.

Personally I don't think a skeleton in a life-jacket helps the message.

In what I considered a stroke of luck, our oven conked out.  Nephew and electrician Kyrle came to Steve's rescue and, in a flourish which I think all tradies could emulate, whipped out fresh oysters after solving the problem.  Also demonstrating the total lack of need for a working oven.

I was so overwhelmed, I postponed eating my mince pie.

Then another lovely thing on Saturday - Baroque Christmas at the Spring Bay Mill.

before

during

after

Truly, truly lovely.