Christmas comes but...twice a year

My sister and her family seem to have a thing for white Christmases - each year around December they head over to the US to enjoy the skiing and celebrate the festive season Northern Hemisphere style. Which means that if we're going to have any sort of Christmas celebration together, we need to do it before they go. On Saturday we pulled out all the stops, putting on a yuletide knees-up like November has never seen. There were presents, pre-lunch swims, post-lunch swims, a front yard cricket match, carols around the piano, a three-course meal fit for the pages of a glossy food mag, bubbles and wine and caprioskas and more. It really felt like the real thing.

{Tommy Claus}

{Henry and Lola under the Christmas tree}

{Half of the Melbourne contingent}

 {Harry in the trampoline stands watching his dad on the cricket pitch}

{Tasting plate of smoked salmon, seared teriyaki tuna and kingfish sashimi with ponzu dressing}

 (Rare roast scotch fillet with crispy garlic and rosemary potatoes and greens}

{Brown sugar pav with berries and cream}

There were nine children in total - ages 10, 8, 6, 3, 3, 2, 9 months, 9 months and 3 months. Six of them slept overnight in the one room. Then the next morning we got up, had an early morning swim, enjoyed a traditional boxing day breakfast of scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, packed up the various cars and headed off in several directions to sleep off the frivolities. Joyeaux Noel xx