Christmas Eve

I'm sitting at my claimed desk. My mother's kitchen table. 

This is it. 

Mum's never that thrilled when I take over the end of the kitchen table, as if the presence of the laptop disrupts the sanctity of the kitchen. I like writing here, looking out over the agapathuses as the honeyeaters fly about hunting for food, looking out to the willow trees on the banks of the now dry Hindmarsh River, watching the butterflies, admiring the blue wrens as they skit around the driveway... it makes a change from my desk at home that looks out over another block of flats, a physiotherapy gym and the fish factory. 

Mum's also never thrilled when I chew through their bandwith. I'm being good. I'm not downloading anything. Promise. 

Up in the studio, where I'm sleeping, any internet is garnered off my hotspot. I was warned by a friend of my folks that as I'm basically staying in a big tin shed, it's just a large faraday cage. Thankfully, the hotspot does work up there. And down here in the house I'm on Mum's wifi.  I'm a bit careful as I've come and stayed before and chewed through all of the bandwidth. Telstra told my mum that this is a very common problem around this time. It seems a lot of people come down to their parents and grandparents, then use all their internet allocation. Funny that. 

Anyway, we're doing all the pre-Christmas jobs today. The ham is in the ham bag. Mum and I went down to Victor Harbor this morning where we picked up the prawns. It was a strange event, not something you'd find in anywhere else. We went to a nondescript brick house near the hospital and went down this driveway. Behind it, there are parked a couple of boats and a shop with about two dozen people milling about. Pirate's Seachest appears to be a Victor Harbor tradition. People were were milling about. You'd never find this place if you you didn't know about it.  Mum ordered the prawns last week so she was in and out in five minutes, coming out with two kilos of the buggers. It seems this place is a local secret - all the stock is caught locally. Mum said there were a heap of huge lobsters there too - all the seafood you need. Puts the Sydney Fish markets to shame. My setpdad will peel the prawns tomorrow. All three kilos of them. 

Mum's now making the hard sauce for tomorrow after preparing all the salads. Hard sauce? A family tradition that goes on Christmas pudding. Mix 125 grams of softened unsalted butter with one and a half cups of icing sugar and a couple of tablespoons of brandy. Mix it all up until softened. It is good stuff. I'll probably be making the seafood sauce later too - whipped cream, tabasco, tomato sauce, mustard powder, a slosh of vinegar and slosh of worcestershire sauce all beaten up - again, amazing. They say it's smell and taste which bring back the strongest memories. We've also got cassata, in memory of my aunt who would have been turning 79 tomorrow. All these things are out Christmas traditions. 

I've also done a run down to the Fru Choc Shoppe in McLaren Vale. Try saying that three times fast. Possibly the most evil place is Christendom it takes your money. $50 later I have a kilo bag of Fru Chocs for my cousin (I'll run them in on the way home, he's in Ballan) a pair of Fru Choc socks for a friend for Xmas, and the piece of resistance, a bag of chocolate covered red frogs - which are just amazing and I'll keep them.  Most of the booty will be given away to South Australian friends who all know just how wonderful these things are.  

The run down the Vale also meant I could stop in the supermarket and buy a bottle of tabasco sauce - seeing the folks only had a bottle of chipotle tabasco - and there was no way I was allowing that in the seafood sauce. 

The strange thing about South Australia - no masks. Well there are masks, but you don't see many people wearing them. Some places ensure you check in - the Myponga General Store being one of them, other places, not so much. I'm erring on the side of caution. I've been through the Victorian Lockdown. Don't want to do that again.

Anyway, better be off, we're going down to Victor Harbor for dinner - and it's nearly time to feed the cat. 

Today's song: