Poker Prawns and Presents

We had Christmas at the in-laws last weekend. Whilst we keep in touch with the Groovy Grannies, we don't have much contact through the year with my brother in law and his wife although this year, things may change. Two of their sons are on Facebook so the communication links are re-established and Jack's already tagged me for a friend.

Anyway . . . the kids went up on Saturday while I did the usual cleaning, bailing water out of my dysfunctional washing machine and sealed the slate floor. I ran up early the next morning (plans were to go together but washing machine hassles prevented that happening).

The day started dramatically. It was hot and windy. Unusual for this time of the year . The Groovy Grannies have a lovely home with a big elevated deck out the back. Nice to sit and chat and smoke and drink and admire the distant sea view. But despite Adam's best efforts to anchor the two sun brollies, one took flight and ended up on the roof. While the boys were arguing about who was fit enough to retrieve the wayward brolly and Grandma restrained a rather frail Grandad who was up for the challenge . . a gust of wind brought it down harmlessly, narrowly missing Clare's windscreen.

BIL is a Real Estate Agent on the Central Coast and SIL a beautician who works from home. They have three boys 16, 21 and 23 who are . . .well - were . . . less than savoury but this year something was different. Everyone got along, Nick and Sam refrained from thumping each other and going home in a huff. They've long since moved out and it seems to have matured them somewhat. Conversations about bath sheets and washing machines coming out of their mouths seemed a little odd but also rather connecting since my washing machine has given up the ghost. SIL is always lovely, beautifully groomed and pleasant and chatty. BIL was in and out as clients demanded his attention but sweet and good company with the exception of having the golf on telly while we were eating . . .

Christmas there is a very different affair to our own with it's Mezzo plates and themed table. There's the predictable Poinsettia plastic table cloth, nuts and nibblies, tinsel adorned ficus and a Christmas Platypus hanging from the ceiling fan and the meal predictably finished with Mango Tiramisu - but it's homely and friendly and unpretentious and Grandad keeps the glasses filled with alarming regularity. We pop our crackers and reveal nothing more than tweezers, yoyos and silly paper crowns. We laugh and chat and eat and generally have a fantastic time.
To my mind, it's very Aussie although in recent years they've deviated from the hot and sweaty roast to a slightly cooler cold-cut lunch although I know Art loves his baked dinner and suspect he'll enjoy one on Christmas day whether it's 15 or 50 degrees in the shade!

Before lunch there was poker . . .



. . .and presents . . .


and prawns . . .



Grandad grilled souffle'd oysters . . totally awesome . .

After what seemed ages at the buffet table . . .
we sat down to eat in our silly hats


After watching DVD's of nephew Jack's Japanese travels and
Clare's European leg the munchies set in.

. . . and frankly by 11:30 I was totally shitfaced!

Actually it was a really nice day/night and although we don't see BIL and SIL but twice a year, it is always nice to catch up . . .I often wonder if I'd remarried whether I'd have bothered keeping in touch . . then I remember what terrific, ordinary, welcoming people they are and I'm very glad I do.