That Was Christmas

Spent Christmas with my sister, brother-in-law, nieces and nephews-in law and of course my great-nephew Korban.

It takes a toddler to make Christmas special again.  Never mind the forlorn hope of peace on earth and goodwill to all except illegal immigrants.  Give me the sparkle of a child’s eyes. Mind you, this particular little chap was shamefully spoiled by all and sundry.  ONLY yours truly did not go overboard. But I mightily enjoyed watching everyone else.

Santa was good to me.  I brought back with me a Bay Tree to replace the 25 year old potted tree I gave away in NZ and which I missed sorely, a book on Australian reptiles, a catalogue of classic bikes auctioned in Auckland last August, and a pack of NZ’s finest coffee: Altezzano.  For myself I bought a summer motorcycle jacket.  In the 40 degree weather it is like riding in a kevlar string vest with the warm breeze caressing my chest, but still having the armoured elbows shoulders and spine, and abrasion resistant kevlar skin should I end up tumbling and sliding.  It has a removable snug and waterproof lining for when the weather is not blazing hot. Very reasonably priced indeed.   I found it of all places in a wee country town called Dwellingup, I was riding home by one of the popular ride routes and found the biker clothing shop a couple of bikers have set up next to a restaurant popular with the weekend rider set.  Since I was sweltering in my DriRider (R), even with the lining removed,  I could hardly pass it up. Should’ve had one in Fiji.

The Bay tree made it home on my bike wrapped in cardboard from Korban’s slide.  Since returning I have repotted it into a 50 litre pot which it will share with Rosemary.

I was hoping to meet up with Tim down Esperance way this week, but he got another week’s work which is better to take than a holiday, so that idea has been postponed.  I am still determined to ride to the sea and jump in to it in the next few days, but probably somewhere closer like Albany and then I can ride through Denmark to Walpole (said to be a great ride) to Manjimup and back home.   But first I have some housework to do..

About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
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