My first Kalgoorlie Christmas and new year is over. It wasn't so bad - apart from the heat... The town being what it is, it was an eerily quiet period. It seems all the workers return to their various homes and the families jet out to visit relatives in capital cities or escape the heat on the coast. Into the second week of January and the town is still rather deserted; restaurants and some pubs are still closed, shops are still operating on reduced hours.
Mama and I spent Christmas with some mutual friends. It was quite nice really - all seafood and Pimms and dips in the pool. And new years was spent in the usual Kalgoorlie way, drinks at a bbq before heading into town and making the rounds of the nightspots.
Despite the fact that I was here with Mum, I still felt a strange disconnect from the 'traditions' of Christmas past. For as long as I can remember Christmas has carried along the same lines. It's either Newcastle with Mum's family or Goulburn with Dad's family. Both involve an irritating Christmas eve pilgrimage and an over night stay in a spare room at an Aunty or Grandma's house. Both involve a Christmas morning watching the various cousins, and cousins of cousins, opening massive amounts of presents, a (usually late) lunch, an afternoon of drunk parents and naps in the spare room and an evening in the back yard on folding chairs. The next day, a train trip or drive back home. While similar in outline, the various Christmas experiences are a world apart (and never the twain shall meet).
I can only remember one Christmas with both parents together in the same place. We were on the farm, so it must have been '85 or '86 and it would probably have been the first Christmas post parental marriage breakdown. Dad turned up on his motor bike while my sister and I were still in our pyjamas, presents were exchanged and some photos taken. I just remember this awful sadness from Dad and my own mixture of excitement and confusion. It being a 'Mum' Christmas we probably then headed off to Newcastle.
The Newcastle Christmas has it's own particular groove. You can be guaranteed to receive a mug filled with chocolates or a bottle of shower gel or bar of soap with a face washer/tea towel/hand towel or something from the Christmas Avon catalogue as a gift. There will be a bowl of tinned pineapple on the table during lunch that noone will touch and later in the day the Aunties will get a bit tipsy and start teasing each other. The next morning will always be a bacon and egg breakfast cooked on the bbq by favourite Uncle Neville.
The Goulburn Christmas seems a world away. Grandma will put the vegetables on to boil at 10 in the morning and around 12 we will be roped in to setting the table. There will be an argument about this time too - Grandma will make a characteristic comment about how Australians don't know the 'proper' way to celebrate Christmas and Dad will characteristically rise to the bait. Grandma will wander back into the kitchen pretending not to hear him and Dad will storm into the sanctuary of the back yard to vent on favourite Uncle Anthony who will, in his gentle way, listen and nod. We will then all sit down to sweat over a full hot Christmas dinner (lunch).
The traditions are changing now. They have too, I suppose. Most of the 'children' are in their late twenties or early thirties some with children of their own. We now sit in the folding chairs or on the grass drinking with the adults. Uncle Neville passed away a few years ago so the bbq breakfast is cooked by someone else, next year Uncle Anthony will probably be spending his Christmas in his retirement in England and Grandma is 87 now and doesn't generally cook a full dinner (much to my dismay she hasn't done her bread sauce or onion sauce for some years now). My sister and I don't adhere as firmly to the turn taking model anymore - I spent a few Christmases with the Dutch Boy's family when we were together and hell, I even hosted lunch at my place once - and I now take the train on Christmas morning to avoid the orgy of present opening.
We're developing our own traditions. My sister and I make sure we always have a new Christmas day frock to wear and I'll make a chocolate pavlova or arrive with a big bag of clinking wine bottles. One day, I assume, we will have our own kids and partners and the guidelines for the festive season will shift even further. A few constants remain though, Christmas is Christmas and family is family. And ever shall it be.
So a belated merry Christmas to you all, and all the best for 2011! And if you're so inclined tell me your defining Christmas moment - I'd love to hear it...
