She's Making A List ...

Not all traditions are worth keeping at Christmas.

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The MOTH (The Man of the House) loves the age-old traditions of an Australian family Christmas.

There’s “hunt the corkscrew”, “pass the port”, “the baby’s eating the tinsel again”, and his favourite, “I am not asleep, I’m resting my eyes”.

But there’s no tradition The MOTH likes better than “ring up” the barbecue on Christmas morning. He insists we all need what his late mother used to call “a proper ‘cooked’ breakfast” to start the day. The kids think he’s doing what his late father used to call, “lining the stomach”.

First he checks supplies: eggs (three dozen), streaky bacon (two kilos), sausages (four kilos), tomato sauce (two bottles), Worcestershire sauce (one bottle), mustard (Hot English – one jar), bread (heaps), butter (a kilo) and paper napkins (2000).

Our ancient gas barbecue sits in the garden, away from overhanging trees, neighbours and smoke alarms.