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That Christmas

We kids were all prompt to arrive at the door
for we knew we shouldn’t turn our backs on
Christmas roast at dinner time -
it can’t be left long after out of the oven
for the Aussie bush blowie is nasty
and even with windows and doors fly-wired
doubled over and nailed every inch
the buggers still get inside
and if they get to your dinner before you
well, the sight would make a saint cry
wriggly maggots dropped to feast
on what was going to be our festive meat.
Too much information do I hear you implore??
Sorry. We were at the door....

When we arrived it was to the sight of Aunt
standing tippy toe on the table
holding her dress up around her knees as if
this made her more able
to get even higher....
she’d somehow managed to get up there
without disturbing a single piece
of crockery or cutlery
that had been set out for the feast.
Mum was holding the kitchen broom
like I’d seen a picture of Lancelot do
with a sword, waving it towards
the Coolgardie safe....

now some may not know what that is...
well it isn’t important to the story
except for the fact that it stands on four legs...
but not wanting to have you break this oratory
to find a dictionary...
A Coolgardie safe was used in the outback
to refrigerate before electricity.
A box wooden frame surrounded with mesh,
water up top in a galvanised tray.
Hessian bags hung over each side,
kept damp by being dipped in the water,
surrounded and cooled the perishables
due to some theory regarding heat transfer.
Ours was pretty with carvings of dogs.
It had belonged to our great-grandmother....

Mum and Aunt yelled madly at us
to get the hell away.
Go get your father, my mother screamed
(he was un-baling hay
for the sheep to eat their Christmas meal
out the back paddock a long way away.)

Then we saw what the fuss was about.
Under the hessian a coiled shiny rope
black tongue forked and flickering
nonchalantly ignoring Aunt and Mum
its confidence was hypnotizing.

Of course we didn’t do as told.
We kids all hung around the back door
juggling for position to see the snake
while Mum and Aunt threatened to take
the belt to us if we didn’t go away
and at a safe distance for a time stay.
As Aunt refused to come down from the table
and though Mum bravely stood guard with her broom
the snake was between her and us,
we figured neither would be able
to carry out the threat at any time soon.
So we jostled and argued whether it be tiger or brown
and what we should do if someone got bit.
And while we all waited for Dad to come home
behind the stove the serpent slipped.

When he finally arrived back at the house
pandemonium reigned.
Aunt still refused to come down from the table
and my mother was close to being scared-stiff-insane.
Dad peered and mumbled behind the stove
there’s a hole back there he finally said
I reckon it slipped through to under the house
(ensuring insomnia for all later in bed.)

Well needless to say Christmas dinner was cold
(and I’m not sure the plates were quite clean)
It took a long time to get Aunt’s feet off the table.
It really was a scene to be seen.
But worse was to come, just to top it all off,
for, forgotten in all the excitement and feeling,
after too much simmering away on the backburner
the pudding exploded all over the ceiling.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Comments

you are more than welcome to come and spend a christmas with me - in fact i wish that you would.....
yes we certainly had some moments when i was a kid.....

thanks for the read (it is a bit long isn't it?)
glad you persevered and enjoyed it.

love judy
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

i know it's pretty long.

so glad you enjoyed it.
so sorry that you spend christmas alone....
don't do that this year rosi - make a move now, make arrangements to spend at least a couple of hours with someone - if there's no-one then go and spend a couple of hours as a volunteer at somewhere needy - a hospice, an orphanage...

live rosina .

love judy
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

i had a little giggle at a vision of you and wee zak at table with a big red checked tablecloth (don't ask me why that) and a big roast turkey on it
wee zac with his fork, waiting for his bit of turkey, a party hat on his head....

anyway, we're bound to touch base on christmas day, so there, you won't be alone anyway
love judy
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

those outback dunnies are hell in winter
lol
judy
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

can't wait either shirl
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

childhood memories
sweetened with the sugars of time
stirred with wistfulness
served with love

thanks for the read jc
hugs, and take care
love judd
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment

Now this is what I call a great creative writing piece of work. The vision it gave me as I see the pudding exploding and Auntie on top of the table. Oh what a Christmas that was wasn't it?? I love this story and makes me think of some of the Christmas's we shared as the young family that we were. I love your descriptive writing here and always your words echo through me.

You are a writer with a lot of great things to come to page

Love you Aussie Mom

The Denizen :)

lol magics
xoxoxo

so glad you liked this
love judy
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

author comment
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