Monday, 12 December 2011

Christmas cake and a child's wisdom

Call me a cliche, but I got right into the Christmas spirit this afternoon.  I cranked up the Christmas music (vintage jazz versions, no Mariah Carey here), opened the brandy and mixed up the cake.  It's my  Mum's boiled pineapple fruit cake.

Before mixing and boiling.

During - it's a bit fuzzy because the steam fogged up the camera.
After - in all its sticky, fruity, delicious, Christmassy goodness.  The yellow bits are the pineapple (not corn!)

I'll leave the fruit overnight and mix in the flour and eggs and bake it tomorrow.

I was worried that I might have left it a bit late.  Nothing like having a knock down fight with a little old lady to secure the last packet of dried fruit or glace cherries!  Thankfully, the supermarket in the village was very well stocked and I was able to buy everything I needed without resorting to dirty tactics.  If you do find yourself in this situation, stealth and swift movements are the key. Think ninja.

As usual my three year old nephew was able to provide wisdom as he solemnly explained his approach to Christmas preparations, via Skype today.  

He provided full details about what is required to provide sustenance for Santa (biscuits) and his reindeer (carrots), but it didn't end there.  His plan was to lie in wait so that he could then catch Santa!  I suggested that Santa wouldn't be very happy about that and that he was pretty hard to catch, but my nephew was convinced the plan would work.  

"Santa wears boots," was his firm, final comment on the subject.

To change the subject, he then advised me that he was drawing me some pictures for Christmas.  He would be coming to visit me and would bring them with him.  When I asked him how he was going to get here (I'm in Melbourne, he's in Queensland) he said that he would walk.  I admired his generous and determined spirit and told him he had better get cracking - it would take a long time to get here because he'd be carrying all those heavy Christmas presents for his favourite Aunty.

I love kids' thinking - it's so imaginative yet literal.  He was quite prepared to walk a very long way to see me, but said that paper wasn't very heavy and he had no heavy presents for me.  I insisted I wanted lots and they needed to be very heavy.  He came back with bigger pieces of paper repeating the phrase "heavy presents" over and over.

I fully expect him to turn up here with an art portfolio and a bag of rocks.

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