The Christmas That Was

Our delightful Christmas Tree and our stash of gifties!

Mum's stocking fillers arrived in the nick of time, and we had a marvellous time unwrapping such treats as business class toothbrushes, etc.  Stu is slightly bemused by my mum's stocking fillers, I keep trying to explain that they're just random items of varying value and use to recipient, the more random, the funnier.  Anywho, below is a shot of one of mum's famed handmade stockings.

Champers kicked off the unwrapping marathon.  Mmmm, champers before noon, what could be more delightful?

Perhaps haphazard tinsel on a light fitting?

Perhaps moi?

A little atmostphere...

The one day a year I remember to light candles.  Then I forget to put them out, and they die. 

Roasted veggie goodness, the feasting preparations begin.

To go with the gorgeous (vegetarians don't look) organic half leg of lamb.  Lamb was an inspired choice - so much leftover goodness.

Mulled wine.  Mmmmm

Stu looking ... awkward.  He's wondering how much longer until he can tuck in and eat his body weight in brussel sprouts (bloody awful they are, but he loves them, so this is my Christmas concession).  I paid for my kindness later when he tooted up the living room.  The smell still haunts me.

Umm, weird face.

A walk to digest.  The weather was pretty dismal, but the fresh air after many an hour gorging on wine and food felt good.  I also had to clear my head after a Trivial Pursuit defeat that will shame me forever.

Our neighbourhood harbours little backstreeet gems.

I doff my cap to religion briefly.

The now famous mince pies Stu insists on making every year.  I keep suggesting he might like to try using a pastry that doesn't expand so much it lays waste to all attempts to fill the pastry.  He won't budge, so I vow to leave him to it.  They looked as good as they tasted.  Read into that what you will.

Keeping the Festive Spirit Alive

The boys just lurve their secret santa presents.

Office secret santa pressie swap, complete with girl Santa Dawn.  It was meant to be boy Santa John, but one size definitely does not fit all, and those santa pants will never be the same again.

Andrew's gift - candy nipple tassles, to be used in the event of sexy time.

Now Dawn, you may be petite, but that reindeer is still looking a few kgs shy of a decent ride home.

Harry's secret santa present - chosen and made by yours truly.  The pornographic gingerbread men were the surprise hit of the night.  The stress boobs will come in handy (get it) I'm sure.

Close up.  Disclaimer: Santa does not condone kiddie porn.

Christmas in Eburger is in full swing.  The proof is in the turkey.  Please look away if you are appalled by gratuitous shots of turkey carcass.

The comparatively sedate table, devoid of food throwing and carcass fondling.  This was moments before I got hit in the face with a projectile rasher of bacon.


Yvonne is about to fling a deadly brussel sprout.  The little fuckers were rock hard and bloody hurt.  Seriously though, the food was better for throwing than eating.

Dawn and Michelle save the turkey from further humiliations.

Michelle moves from turkey to chicken boob (blessedly not a real chicken boob).  Moments later, Jonathon the inexplicably munted guy to her right grabbed said boob and flung it over his shoulder to the other table, where it knocked a glass of wine all over the MD.  To her credit, our boss didn't lose her shit, but it did signify the end of Christmas Food Fight 2010.

Aem no' trouble, youse is trouble!

Pretending to enjoy the disappointing pudding.  Oscars all round.

Oh lovely ladies of the dance, show us yer stuff.

The boys in blue.  Lending serious credence to the running joke that they all call eachother up the night before a party to decide what to wear.

Ugh, the end of the night, and thing fall apart.

Hither the weather is is winter

In the Botannical Gardens enroute to the village of Eburger for what turned into a very boozy afternoon pub sesh.  I forget how many bottle of red wine were consumed.  It's for the best you know.

These shots are before th snow got crazazy - when it was all still fun and games, albeit on the brrr side.

It starts to get a little crazy.

Outside my office on Dundas Street.  Can't wait for those footpaths to become icy sheets of wrath.

The park near our place at sunset (3pm)

Christmas markets.  We stayed a while, until I couldn't feel my toes under four layers of woolley sock.

Refreshing summer cocktails may seem a little out of place, but it was better than waiting in an hour long line for mulled wine.