Home again, home again ...

... So, we’re back from our annual trek.
In years past it was only to Canberra for the 24th (my family “do”) and 25th (for Mr Brown’s family’s more traditional thing), and was always a good way of getting everyone all together for feasting and laughing at least once a year. But now my parent’s live in Maianbar and my sister, brother and their families live in Queensland (shudder) so it’s a bit more driving and not quite the same.
So, on the 24th (after Mr Brown dealt with some work crisis) we headed down to Maianbar, getting there in time for start grazing about 1pm. Then “lunch” proper about 3ish, a visit so some of Mr Brown’s cousins for a drink or 2 and some “little snacks” then back to the parental resort in time for carols by candlelight at the local shops. Maianbar is a real village, so mum knew everyone (she works in the shop once a week) and Mr Brown and I were know, by reputation at least. As an atheist I used to refuse to sing carols, all the crooning about virgins mild and bebe jeebers was a bit of a conflict. But I did SO enjoy it as a kiddie and we’ve come to a compromise, of sorts. I just think of carols as traditional folk tunes and belt them out with the best of them now.
And so, warm as toast (plenty of insect repellent), sipping lovely cool white wine, under gum trees and a purpling sky we sang of dreaming of a white xmas, sleighbells in the snow and, to the accompaniment of cicadas, of silent nights and little drummer boys. And we wandered home through the bush (tripping on only a few tree roots), serenaded by kookaburras and frogs singing their own version of carols, to a little more fizzy wine and dessert (individual summer puddings) and to bed.
Next morning, fortified by a full-cooked pater familias breakfast, we drove to Canberra. It was lovely to see, after so many years of crisp, dry yellow landscapes, how the rains have finally turned the countryside lush and green (for Australia anyway). Lovely too, that the weather was relatively cool at 24 or so degrees, so sitting down to another full xmas lunch was not too much to handle. Loot was exchanged and Mr Brown and I eventually wandered off to our hotel, the Hyatt, and its stupendous king-sized bed and frankly excessive bath. Bliss.
And now we are home, suffering protein overload and ailing livers, vowing to live on clear soups, boiled grass and water for the next month (let’s see how long that little vow lasts shall we). Ping was glad to see us and even gladder to see the ham leftovers!
Methinks, this is fitting ...