Sydney has softened me to the point that I think 11 degrees Celsius is insufferably cold. But it is easy to see why: Your correspondent writes to you from his back-garden hammock; Cold drink in hand on a balmy (32C) December day.
Being December there are abundant reminders that Christmas is upon us. Despite the heat, we are still treated to a diet of woollen-clad Santas and snowmen. However, the marketing is by no means as relentless as I remember from Ireland. The transplantation of Northern-hemisphere festivities has left Australia with the bizarre traditions of hot-puddings and open fires at a time when fruit, seafood and beach-sports are far more appropriate.
I will take little part in any of it. Christmas to me is the light at the end of the tunnel that makes the descent into a cold, dark, wet, winter just about tolerable. As the days lengthen and the temperatures rise there is no need to dangle a carrot over the solstice. In Australia Christmas is rightly celebrated as God intended: in June.
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2 comments:
Have some Christmas pud ice cream though. It's lovely.
Perhaps we should celebrate BOTH.
Think what two commercialised gift giving festivals would do for the world economy.
Who needs Government Bailouts. We just need a second Christmas.
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