Aussie Christmas

Well, Christmas is less than a month away and you know what that means – at least if like me you’re a Southern Hemispherian freak – yes, summer is upon us. The reason why I have included falling snow on my blog is that this year summer feels rather oddly like winter. Not in delightful manner of softly falling snow which we Aussies forever dream of, mocked as  we are by such depictions from American TV, coating our shop windows in fake white stuff and sending Christmas cards of peaceful little cottages nestled in softly rolling white hills, exuding a warm and tender, yea even beckoning light from within…no, an Australian winter, which means a city painted in seven shades of grey and a constant dripping rain, not even the warm, earthy scented and somehow passionate summer rain, but this dank soggy blanket dumped over everything. It’s cold. It shouldn’t be cold. I don’t like the cold.

I do love the Aussie Christmas, unique as it is in the world, and hope the joys of the season will chase away the gloomy sky and replace it with something more fitting. Growing up Christmas meant backyard cricket, water fights and then, when you’re a little older, lying in front of the fan glued to the lounge by your own sweat. The only thing missing from my Baptist family Christmases was the frosty VB beer. Ah, Christmas. What a magical time.

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