
Here we are folks.
It’s that lovely albeit hair-tearingly frustrating time of year when the department stores have Christmas carols on repeat, the word ‘turkey’ is thrown around often and on a personal note, when Love, Actually finds a home for 30 days in my DVD player.
This year my sister, boyfriend and I are hosting a small Christmas Day gathering at our apartment in Sydney’s stinking hot summer, unlike my previous Christmas which was spent building a snowman in the Swiss Alps. I love Christmas, despite the commercialism; being a Sydney girl I love the heat and the late dinners and unwrapping a few (I’m not greedy) heartfelt presents with a chilled glass of wine by my side.
So what’s on the menu this year readers? A late afternoon roast? A BBQ by the water? Or a picnic perhaps? The wonderful thing about Christmas is that every family does it differently…
After stuffing myself silly and swearing I’ll never eat again, the boyfriend, a few good friends and myself are heading off to spend the New Year in Fiji. With a couple of buffets and all you can eat feasts, I doubt my resolution to be sensible around food won’t stick. But really, when do resolutions really stick?