How do you explain Australian ‘traditions’? I’ve got my work cut out, I think.

Less than two weeks to go until my fave day of the year hits again. I’m pumped. Paul Kelly and Australian Crawl are already on high rotation as the Christmas playlist gets a workout. Far too many pre-Christmas celebrations have already occurred, through work functions, farewells, summer festivities and a couple of extra ‘why not?’ nights. Ugh. Too hard, too early – how will we keep this pace up?

In our minds, the frantic thoughts have well and truly turned to the planning for the four days of Christmas. This year, our extended families are sharing quality time with all the rellies plus a few ring-ins. Numbers will nudge 30 – never a dull moment. All hands on deck, on of the biggest Chrissie celebrations ever … this festive experience will be one to remember, I’m sure. Christmas morning is sure to see the regular breakout of champagne with ham and cheese croissants, with Uncle Dave always cracking a beer at that early hour, too. The Christmas ‘humour’ is on from daybreak, so make sure you’ve got your thick skin on as nobody will be safe. I wonder if anyone will bother to get dressed for present opening? Or if they’ll just go thongs and PJ’s again amongst family. The late morning nibblies will feature a healthy dose of prawns, which is the highlight of the day for poppy. We’ll also do the sizzling kangaroo chunks with caramelised onion and the chorizo’s with Jarlsberg – the little kids are addicted to all that. I’m sure most of the crowd will be checking their watch every few minutes to see if 11 o’clock is close enough to ‘beer o’clock’. Maybe earlier. Don’t peak too early, it’s a long day ahead. It won’t matter that it’s gonna be hot, total fire ban, barely a drop of water around and not a green blade of grass to be seen – there’ll still be a roast for lunch. Getting things right in the oven with a champagne glass in hand is always a challenge, but everyone’s quite forgiving on Dec 25th if things go awry. I’m a veges man rather than a salad man myself, and the recent addition of (burnt) Brussel sprouts with bacon and pine nuts as a side dish to our roasts just takes things to another level. Hope the rellies like it. All the trestle tables get joined together, there’s no such thing as a ‘kids table’ for us. And if you don’t put your paper hat on from the cracker, you’ll deservedly get ridiculed all through lunch.

The dishwasher doesn’t cope when there’s 30 people eating, so again it’ll be all hands on deck for the cleanup. Whilst the kids will be begging for Christmas cricket, our big tradition has always been whacking a golf ball. Past the shed, around the back post, between the silver birches, over the tank and hit the bird bath. Par 6. Lose a shot if you need a drop. The pav, trifle and cheesecake can’t be consumed until a golfing winner is declared, but seconds and thirds are allowed, because dessert goes in a separate stomach on Christmas.

Baby number 2 (now 21) is flying in from The States, and bringing a beau. What a baptism of fire for him. I wonder what he’ll think of all the carcasses of our national symbol on the edges of the highway, let alone our crazy Aussie ways? I guess we’ll have to explain that if people bother to take the time to take the mickey out of him, then that means he’s been accepted. As Steve Irwin would say, Crikey, Aussie Christmas, what a ripper.