What it's all about

Last night we decided to soak up the last of the Christmas festivities before setting out the little plate with the cookies, milk and carrots.  We went to a nearby suburb that hosted the winning street for Brisbane's best neighbourhood Christmas lights. I had no idea such places existed. Hundreds of people wandering the footpath with their tiny children, well past bed time, basking in the lurid glory of a zillion  lights. This house was the ultimate in splendour.

There were about 30 houses in this street decked out in their finest fluorescents. There were singing polar bears, penguins doing the macarena, igloos with built in bubble machines, driveways turned technicolour dance floors courtesy of garage door mounted laser projectors, numerous nativity scenes and the expected smattering of glow in the dark reindeers. Some savvy parents had the foresight to cover their own children in glowsticks too, sure makes them easier to keep track of amidst the crowds.

And today? Well that was pretty much what every decent Australian Christmas is all about. We ate cold ham, salads and of course pavlova. The house is littered with lego bricks and some of the one million accessories that come with a Sylvanian Families hospital. It was hot so of course there was quite a bit of this,

and it seemed just the right kind of balmy weather for a little ukelele accompanied singing of jingle bells

And that is what it's all about. Hot sunshine, pavlova, thongs, togs, bling'd up nativity scenes, obscenely large water pistols and happy kids. The only kind of Christmas us Aussies know anything about.

Merry Christmas to you all.