T'is the season to be jolly [olive]...

5 more days till Christmas!

So I realised this weekend where I get the persistently stubborn side of my personality...

Mother was due to fly to Cape Town with Step Daddy and Brother on Friday morning for my Big Sister's Wedding on Saturday. The three of them arrive at the airport with minimal time to spare. Yet, much to Step Daddy's annoyance, Mother disappears to find the 'Bag Wrap' man.

Regardless of whether my Dear Mother is flying to New York or Nelspruit, she will ALWAYS wrap her bags if she is flying into or out of South Africa... She is inexplicably British and believes any Saffa system is naturally corrupt and that we (and our belongings) will never be safe.

Step Daddy: Beanie, we really don't have time to wrap our bags.
Mother: This is South Africa. Everything will be stolen!
Step Daddy: We're only going to Cape Town.
Mother: And I have Christmas presents and my wedding outfit in there.
Step Daddy: You won't be going to the wedding if we don't check in in the next 20 minutes!

Step Daddy and Brother know not to bother arguing and tell Mother they'll meet her on the plane. Mother joins the end of what is an unfathomably long queue spiralling the width of the airport to get cling wrapped, all the while texting me about how she has to wear her wedding hat on the plane so it doesn't get squashed. A kilometre forward, at the front of the queue, stands one man very leisurely wrapping each bag, cutting holes in the cling wrap then sorting out the customers money. Estimating about 10 minutes per person.

Half an hour later Step Daddy and Brother board plane and arrive at their seats expecting to find Mother happily nestled in seat 7A (or 7 alpha as the air hostess referred to it), bags wrapped, crossword out... But her seat remains vacant. Step Daddy whips out his phone:

Step Daddy: Where are you?
Mother: In the queue...
Step Daddy: For the plane?
Mother: For the bag wrap...
Step Daddy: But we're taking off!?!?!??!?!?!?! 
Mother: Oops.

Step Daddy, furious, hangs up phone, rings ME and says: 'Get your mother on a plane. I can't deal with her.' 

Needless to say, Mother missed the flight. And was still in the cling-wrap queue 20 minutes later. After that she said she didn't want to come because Step Daddy had shouted at her. After much begging and pleading, I managed to get her on a plane by lunch time, but she was referred to, by all of us, as 7 Alpha for the remainder of the weekend. When we were tidying up after lunch on Sunday we asked if she had any cling wrap left to cover the food.

I mean, honestly...

Am off to Joburg for Christmas on Wednesday. Not sure if I'll get around to posting while I'm on my Jolly Olly Holiday, which is a whopping 3 weeks and consists of Joees, Hermanus, then Brede River. I'll be gone until Monday 9th January. So if you don't here from me, I leave you with piccies of my simply whacky family at Carols by Candlelight last night. From not wanting to go and accusing me of 'dragging' them there, they ended up being the most spirited in the entire garden, belting out carols at octaves only dogs can here, and managing to set fire to the bobble on my Santa hat. I was not impressed. Needless to say we ended up with our own 100m radius as people quickly moved their blankets to a safer spot to sing their carols in peace.

Merry Christmas to all. And to all a good night...

Festive fun

You see that right there? THAT is my absolutely out-of-this-world, drool-over, lick-up-and-down, rub-all-over-your-face, amazing, mouth-watering, succulent Christmas gammon. Yes, it's no family-sized feast. But have you tried to buy one lately? It was a choice between a whole gammon or two tanks of petrol.

This gammon was so delectably palatable there are actually pigs lining up to become one of my gammons. Randoms knocked on the front door because their noses had led them thus. We all fell asleep after Christmas lunch in a gammon coma... floating away on a gammon boat, in a sea of gammon basting...

Mother rings after lunch. Me, ensconced on sofa, bubbly seeping out eye balls, watching Vivi&Lola do the actions to 'The 12 Days of Christmas' ---->

...while friend Bree attempts to pick stray bits of tinsel out my hair...

Mother: Hi Darling!
Olive (singing): The holly and theee ivvyyyyy...
Mother: What is that?!
Olive: I'm singing carols!
Mother: I thought it was a cat. How was your Christmas lunch?
Olive: Excellent. Can I top you up?
Mother: I'm not there?
Olive: I knew that.
Mother: Are you drunk?
Olive: Just in full Christmas spirit!
Mother: You just sound like you've drunk too many spirits.
Olive: Nonsense. Port isn't a spirit.
Mother: Have you had port?
Olive: After the brandy... Or was that before?
Mother: Brandy?
Olive: I bought it for the Brandy Butter. I just forgot the butter.
Mother: Darling. I think it's time you went to sleep.
Olive: Why, is Santa coming?
Mother: And go get some water!
Olive: But he drinks milk?
Mother: Go to bed! Ring me in the morning?
Olive (singing): Hark the Herald Angels siiiiinnngggg....
Mother: I give up.