It's the Christmas Hamster Hamper!!

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the hoose

Not a creature was stirring, except hamsters with tongues all a-loose 

They whined and they argued, they’d cooked their own goose 

But the biggest question was, had they been naughty or noice?

Today I am celebrating the fun, friendship, and frivolity that our little friends, the Hamsters from Shey's Blog, deserve. Today, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you ---

THE CHRISTMAS HAMSTER HAMPER 

Let's meet them all:

Mitsy

Ratsy

The Dood

Fez

Ginger

Dougal

Vinnie

McHoots

Bobsleigh

Tink

Hamstah Dickens

The Sheystah

Yes, the little pack of hamsters who have kept Shehanne Moore, and us, company all year are suffering from a very debilitating illness – Christmas Countdown Regret.

You see, everyone knows that for Santa to bring you presents at Christmas, you have to lead an exemplary life, a year of being kind, helpful, friendly, hard working. The big test comes a month or so before Christmas, as soon as all the supermarkets and department stores drag out the tinsel and trees.

And that test is:

Have you been a good hamster all year?
Have you been naughty or nice?

Okay, most of us lie through our teeth, and no doubt some of the hamsters will do that too, but a couple of the more…sensitive…hamsters will answer truthfully, and will wake up on Christmas morning with nothing under the tree for them.

So, in an effort to help Shehanne’s furry little friends step up a little and ensure that they get a gift under the tree from Santa, I’m going to teach them some rules.(We all know how much Shehanne loves rules.)

Rule 1: Thou shalt not whinge, whine, or carry on when Shey constantly overlooks you in favour of some fancy US Best Seller author, or some tramp who writes naughty books.

Rule 2: Thou shalt not interrupt when Shey is speaking. The consequences of you continuing to do this are awful. Heck, you’ve seen what happened to Mr Shey! He’s lost all his hair from being told to shut up all the time. A bald hamster will be a very cold hamster in the freezing Dundonian winter.

Rule 3: Thou shalt learn to bring Shehanne her slippers without her even asking; fill her wine glass before it’s empty; and help her in her new garden. Reason is, a happy Shey makes for a happy day.

Rule 4: Never, never, NEVER, interrupt Shehanne when she is on a deadline, or has edits to do. This will make her angry, and she will withhold certain important…favours…such as feeding you, changing your water bowl, and letting you visit her blog posts.

Time for some Christmas Carols.

Hint: sing this to the tune of the First Noel.

The first little Hamstah, appeared in Shey’s post

And to certain poor authors, they were the ultimate hosts.

Always cheerful and glad, and happy all the while

They brightened our days with their innocent guile.

Hamsters, hamsters, hamsters, hamsters

Move over Shey, and give room to hamsters.

Here's a cute little guy to sing for you:

And now, to follow the Hamsters go and visit Shehanne Moore's BLOG. Click here.

A Season to Remember - Christmas Anthology blog tour - #6

A micro-story exclusively for you:

This blog tour brings very special people together. People who would never normally meet. Continuing on our theme of delving deep into the psyche of our characters from the forthcoming Christmas anthology - A Season to Remember - today we will visit with two delightful young couples - Laura and Michael (from Three Ships); and Molly and Connor (from All That Glitters). They meet up at a Christmas party.

The old lady, Kitty Pryor, fell asleep ungracefully on the tapestry couch, sliding sideways until she was leaning heavily on Laura’s shoulder.

“Here, let me help you there.” The girl’s voice sounded close.

Laura turned to see the girl, already reaching forward and lifting Mrs. Pryor up and setting her back against the couch. With a huge effort, the girl managed to get the old lady to stay put, and she propped a cushion under the woman’s head.

“I’m Molly. Merry Christmas.”

Laura looked into the dancing eyes of Molly. “Thanks you. Merry Christmas to you as well. I’m Laura.”

“Come on, she’ll be okay for now.” Molly extended her hand. “Join us over here?”

Laura clasped her hand and stood, glad to have someone else to talk to, now that Kitty Pryor had drunk herself into a sherry stupor. She glanced up at the clock on the mantle, mindful that she must not leave too late or she would be marooned on the mainland all night.

Molly must have noticed. “In a rush?”

“Well, not really. But I need to leave before the tide turns. I live on St. Joseph’s Rock, you see.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “Really? Where the lighthouse is? I met another man who said he’d been there recently. His name is, um…Michael something.”

Laura felt her heart stop. “Not…not Michael Renten?”

“Yes, I think that’s right. Oh look, here he is now.”

Laura turned to see Michael coming towards them holding two glasses of sherry. She offered Michael a beaming smile, which he returned.

“Ah Miss Molly, I see you are acquainted with my fiancee,” he said, handing one of the glasses to Laura and offering the other to Molly who refused the drink with a polite shake of her head.

Michael Renten was tall, equally as tall as the man who now joined them - Connor Rathmore - who wrapped his arm around Molly's waist.

“Usually about now we put on the stereo and begin the 80s karoke,” Connor quipped.

Laura frowned. “I don't know that word, is it Japanese?”

It was Connor's turn to frown. “Yeah, I think it is. It means to have a sing along.”

“That could be fun,” said Laura enthusiastically. “But I'm not sure I know any songs from the 1780s.”

Molly burst out laughing. “Well if you don't, I don't think we would either. I think Connor was thinking of more 1980s.”

“Yep, big hair and shoulder pads,” he then leaned in to say in a stage whisper. “Just like Molly's step-mother.”

Kitty Pryor, leaning back comatose on the setee, muttered and shifted in her sleep but didn't waken.

“I found something that looks like a music box in the other room,” said Michael, offering his arm which Laura accepted. “Mr Rathmore might be familiar with its workings. It appears to be called a 'Wurlitzer'.”

Thank you to Elizabeth Ellen Carter - author of Three Ships, and Eva Scott, author of All That Glitters, for contributing to this very special and exclusive micro-story of the meeting of two young couples.

On November 28th, you'll be able to download your free gift copy of A Season to Remember, and enjoy four stories full of romance, adventure, love, and Christmas. Stay tuned for the download link..

Elizabeth Ellen Carter   |   Eva Scott   |   Susanne Bellamy   |   Noelle Clark

A Season to Remember - A Christmas Anthology blog tour - #5

A micro-story exclusively for you

This blog tour brings very special people together. People who would never normally meet. Continuing on our theme of delving deep into the psyche of our characters from the forthcoming Christmas anthology - A Season to Remember - today we will visit two women from very different worlds, very different times. There's Kitty from Dugong Point; and there's Andra from the spaceship Bluefire. What could these women ever have in common?


Captain Andra Veluthian stared at the screen. She reached forward and hit the button, zooming right in on the woman who sat in a chair high on the cliffs overlooking a beach.

The woman seemed to be staring back at her. It was un-nerving. Surely she couldn’t see the Bluefire with her naked eye! Still the woman stared.

Andra zoomed in as far as she could. A droplet of water, which she knew the Terrans called tears, fell out of the woman’s eyes and trickled down over her cheeks. Andra shook her head. Since she’d been with Nick, she seemed to have developed a capacity for emotional responses that was quite alien to her. Watching the woman’s sad countenance, she felt a growing melancholy within her own body.

“This can’t be happening.” She switched off the screen, and the woman disappeared. Annoyed with herself for showing such softness, she stomped off to the bridge, hoping that there was something more exciting to see than a Terran displaying that very human trait.

The bridge was deserted. A soft blue luminosity from the instrument panels caused an eerie glow. She looked out the main window and saw the magnificent sight of planet Earth, suspended gracefully in space. Her heart turned over. Damn! She couldn’t stop thinking about the sad old woman.



She reached out and hit a button. The monitor jumped to life. With the turn of a few knobs, she  zoomed back in. The woman still sat there, her face shiny from tears. Andra compressed her lips,
 reached across, and pressed the sonar-linguistic button.

“Hello. What’s wrong?” Even to her own ears, she sounded comforting—a trait not natural to Gravlarians.

The woman jumped, then squinted, looking intently at the Bluefire which must look like a very bright star to someone down on Earth.

“Oh, I’m just being a sad sack. It’s Christmas night and I’ve had a marvellous day with my family.” The old woman sighed. “But, I do miss my Billy.”

Andra swallowed hard to rid her throat of the lump that had formed. “Tell me about Billy?”

The old woman started to speak, but her words faded in Andra’s head, instead replaced by her own monologue. Since she and Nick had fallen in love, her whole perspective on Earthlings had changed. Once derided by Gravlarians for their strange, emotion-ruled lives, she now marvelled at how the Earthlings managed to infuse emotions into everything they did.

Even this little ritual they called Christmas brought out the very best in whole communities. They shared meals together, shared religious festivities, and the quaint little habit of sharing gifts was, well, delightful. Suddenly she felt so enriched by the Earthling’s emotional ways, that she wondered how her own race – the Gravlarians – had ever survived without the warmth of touch and love in their lives.

She blinked, noticing that the old lady was smiling. “I feel so very much better for having told you all about my Billy. Thank you.” Her smile broadened. “And Merry Christmas.”

Andra wiped a tear from her eye. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

Thank you to Susanne Bellamy, author of A Touch of Christmas,  for contributing to this very special and exclusive micro-story of the meeting of two of our characters, Kitty and Andra.

On November 28th, you'll be able to download your free gift copy of A Season to Remember, and enjoy four stories full of romance, adventure, love, and Christmas. Stay tuned for the download link.

Elizabeth Ellen Carter   |   Eva Scott   |   Susanne Bellamy   |   Noelle Clark

A Season to Remember - Christmas Anthology blog tour - #4

A micro-story exclusively for you:

This blog tour brings very special people together. People who would never normally meet. Continuing on our theme of delving deep into the psyche of our characters from the forthcoming Christmas anthology - A Season to Remember - today we will visit the cold, windswept south coast of England in the early 1800s where Peter from 'Three Ships' meets Nick from 'A Touch of Christmas'.


Peter Winter wished he was anywhere but here. What a horrid way to spend Christmas Day, he thought. He hated leaving the lighthouse at any time, but should a ship founder on this special day because he was hob-knobbing it with these out-of-towners, well…  He shook his head.

The visitors certainly looked strange. They wore odd clothes, and their pallor made them look ill. Except the big male.

“Mr. Winter? I’m Nick Madigan. So glad you could come.”

Peter looked up to see a friendly, tanned face before him, smiling warmly. This man looked human. He took the proffered hand and squeezed it.

“Yes, well. Thank you for inviting me. Although I can’t stay long, you know. My daughter is on her own at the lighthouse and I mustn’t miss the tide.” He felt in his waist coat pocket for his fob watch. “Once the tide turns, we’re cut off over there on St Joseph’s Rock, you know.”

“I know, Mr. Winter. We won’t keep you long. We just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for the ships in these parts. And to wish you a Happy Christmas, of course.” Nick took hold of the older man’s elbow. “Come now, let’s have a rum. I’ll make sure you get home safely.” Nick led him over near the bar.

The rum trickled down his gullet, warming him from the inside out. Laura, his daughter, wouldn’t let him drink too much. But Nick Madigan kept refilling his glass without even asking.

“These ships of yours,” he squinted at Nick, looking for any sign that he was being made fun of. “You say they are ships of the sky? That they can fly?”

Nick’s smile was charming. “Yes, sir. They’re called space ships. But they, too, rely on similar life-saving beams as your lighthouse. Without such reliable navigation beacons, many of the spaceships would founder.”

Peter felt as though he must have drunk too much rum and was dreaming. “Really? Ships that fly?” He cleared his throat. “Well, son. You better tell me about yourself and how you came to be…flying in the oceans in the sky.”

Nick topped up his glass again. “You have deduced I—we are not from your time but I am an Earthman from—some time in the future. Mankind has made huge advances in science, including machines that allow us to fly to the stars. It seems we managed to slip through time on this trip and landed here. Your lighthouse beacon drew us to safety through that terrible storm.”

Nick raised his glass to Peter and offered a toast. “Thank you for your dedication in keeping even space mariners safe.”

They drank and Nick refilled their glasses for a fourth, or was it fifth time?

“So, do you have much of a problem with smugglers on this stretch of coast?”

Peter gave a sly grin. “I don’t have a problem with them. But they do have a problem with me.”

A conspiratorial smile spread across Nick’s face also, in anticipation of a tale to come. He wasn’t disappointed.

Another glass of rum each was consumed by the men over the course of the tale.

“Not that I can take all the credit, mind. I had the help of my very brave daughter and a Royal Navy Lieutenant, oh beg your pardon, he's a Commander now.”

“I can see that you’re very proud of your daughter,” Nick observed.

“Aye, that I am.”

Perhaps it was the amount of rum he’d consumed but there was something in Nick’s face which told him he could be trusted with a confidence.

“I have to confess being a bit concerned for Laura,” he said, leaning in a little. “She’s a fine girl but it hasn’t been easy since her mother died. I’m glad  she’ll be marrying a good man.

“Are you married, Nick?”

The spaceman seemed to stand taller and Peter recognised the look of pride in his face. He wore it too whenever he was asked about his wife.

“I am—and to the captain of the very ship that brought us here.”

“A woman captain! She is someone I definitely want to meet. Is she from Earth’s future too?”

“Yes. Earth will suffer dark times but with the help of Andra’s race, our planet will survive and prosper. Never underestimate a woman’s capabilities. Your daughter is a strong, intelligent woman like my wife.”

“Aye, that she is.”

Nick pushed his glass away and looked at the device he wore on his wrist. “Thank goodness they are on our side. I should return to our ship. If you like, I’ll bring Andra over to your lighthouse to meet Laura later this evening.”

“Tide’s up then. You won’t be able to make the crossing.”

“Ah, high tide won’t be a problem for us so long as you’ve a small, clear area for a vehicle about the size of that coach.”

Peter looked through the window and grinned. “Never tell me ye have a smaller flying ship inside that big one? Well, I never...”

Nick held out his hand and shook Peter’s. “Shall we say around eight o’clock?”

Thank you to Elizabeth Ellen Carter - author of Three Ships, and Susanne Bellamy, author of A Touch of Christmas, for contributing to this very special and exclusive micro-story of the meeting of two mariners.

On November 28th, you'll be able to download your free gift copy of A Season to Remember, and enjoy four stories full of romance, adventure, love, and Christmas. Stay tuned for the download link..

A Season to Remember

four Australian authors  -  four unique stories about Christmas

Elizabeth Ellen Carter   |   Eva Scott   |   Susanne Bellamy   |   Noelle Clark

A Season to Remember - A Christmas Anthology blog tour - #3

A micro-story exclusively for you:

This blog tour brings very special people together. People who would never normally meet. Continuing on our theme of delving deep into the psyche of our characters from the forthcoming Christmas anthology - A Season to Remember - today we will visit the sunny, vibrant, Gold Coast. This is Australia's premier beach city, a mecca for anyone wishing to escape the cold and spend a warm and sunny winter in Queensland. Today, Kitty from 'Sands of Time' happens to meet up with Molly and Connor from 'All That Glitters.' Kitty is at that age where she just can't help herself from flirting mildly with a kind, good-looking man such as Connor Rathmore.

Kitty sat on a bench seat overlooking the canal at Surfers Paradise. This Christmas was the second one

without Billy. The year had flown and, true to her promise, she was sharing the day with Bonnie, Jeff, and the children. Joe had been there earlier, but his new girlfriend whisked him away soon after lunch to spend the rest of the day with her parents.

The children were skylarking in the pool with Jeff, and Bonnie was stacking the dishwasher in the kitchen. She’d offered to help, but was politely but firmly told to go and relax. Huh, relax. That’s all she seemed to do these days.

She heard the side gate creak and turned to see a tall, good-looking man in long shorts and a Polo shirt stride in, accompanied by a pretty girl who had the most beautiful smile.

They approached her.

“Hi. I’m Connor Rathmore. This is Molly.” Even though she couldn’t see his eyes behind the sun glasses, his smile was warm and friendly. “You must be Bonnie’s Mum?”

The man bent forward and kissed her cheek. Molly said a quick hello and headed inside to find Bonnie.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Pryor.” His voice was warm, gentle, comforting.

“Oh, please. Call me Kitty.” She felt quite girlish all of a sudden. This charming man’s smile did funny things to her. She moved over on the bench seat and patted the spot next to her. “Won’t you join me? I’d love to know you better.”

Thank you to Eva Scott, author of "All That Glitters', for contributing to this very special and exclusive micro-story of the meeting of two strangers. Connor seems to know intuitively that Kitty is in need of some male company this Christmas.

On November 28th, you'll be able to download your free gift copy of A Season to Remember, and enjoy four stories full of romance, adventure, love, and Christmas. Stay tuned for the download link.

Elizabeth Ellen Carter   |   Eva Scott   |   Susanne Bellamy   |   Noelle Clark

A Season to Remember - Christmas Anthology blog tour #2

A micro-story exclusively for you: 

This blog tour brings very special people together. People who would never normally meet. Continuing on our theme of delving deep into the psyche of our characters from the forthcoming Christmas anthology - A Season to Remember - today we will visit Andra from 'A Touch of Christmas', and Molly from 'All That Glitters'. They meet in Andra's space ship.

Captain Andra Veluthian finished docking the Starship Bluefire. A Terran woman was waiting to meet her.

Andra liked the quaint Terran celebrations, and had learned how important they were to Earthlings.

She strode into the hospitality pod. A pretty girl with a simple, straight bob stood as she entered. In her hand was a box wrapped in red and silver paper, and tied with a shiny green ribbon.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I’m Andra Veluthian.” She extended her hand and steeled herself for the touch as the young woman leaned forward to grab it. Another Terran ritual that took some getting used to with anyone other than Nick.

The woman’s skin felt soft and warm. Quite pleasant really.

“So very happy to meet you, Captain. I’m Molly Morgan.” The girl smiled warmly. “Here, a small Christmas gift for you.” She presented her with the parcel so gaily wrapped. “It’s not much. Some home-made rum balls. I always say it’s not a proper Christmas without rum balls.”

For some inexplicable reason, a lump formed in Andra’s throat and something stung at the back of her eyes. “Thank you.” She swallowed deeply. “Thanks so very much.”

She wasn’t sure whether or not she should open it now. Molly Morgan stared expectantly at her.

“Before I open it, let’s have a…Christmas toast.” Her time with Nick had taught her much about Terran ways. She moved over to a cupboard, opened it, and took out a bottle of gold-flecked, colourless liquid and two small glasses. She poured a drink from the bottle and filled the other glass with soda for herself. “Let’s have a drink and get to know one another, shall we?”

Molly’s face broke out into another sunny smile. “Sounds great.” She flopped onto a chair that was a lot more comfortable than it looked. “Tell me, how long have you worked on the Bluefire?”

“Well, in Terran time, it would be nine years since I took up my first commission. I became Captain just before we left for our recent mission to Earth. I love coming back here each year and seeing the progress made in reclaiming your planet. Its health has been in jeopardy for a long time. Are you interested in space travel?”

Molly sipped her drink and smiled. “That’s delicious. Um, space travel. I’ve never thought about it. I’m keen on taking a really long sea cruise with a rather special man I met. Long, lazy days by the pool, cocktails at sunset, and nights... You get my drift.”

“You drift on a cruise? This term I have not heard Nick use. Is it not dangerous to not set a course but simply to drift?”

Her guest laughed. “Oh no. It means you follow my meaning. Any captain will set and follow a course at sea. Or in space for that matter.”

“Ah, thank you. English has much idiom. It will take me a long time to get the hang of it, as Nick would say.”

“I’d say you’re doing very well, Andra. So how long are you on Earth for this visit?”

“Nick and I are on holiday for one week. Christmas is a special time for us too. How will you celebrate?”

“We’re borrowing a friend’s yacht and sailing up the Queensland coast for a few days. Would you like to join us?”

Andra grinned and thanked Molly for the invitation. Sailing a sea vessel would tick another of her childhood dreams and having Nick and her new friends with her would be—would be icing on the cake. The Christmas cake!

Thank you to Eva Scott, author of All That Glitters, and Susanne Bellamy, author of A Touch of Christmas, for contributing to this very special and exclusive micro-story of the meeting of two women who have fallen in love with two remarkable men.

On November 28th, you'll be able to download your free gift copy of A Season to Remember, and enjoy four stories full of romance, adventure, love, and Christmas. Stay tuned for the download link.

Elizabeth Ellen Carter   |   Eva Scott   |   Susanne Bellamy   |   Noelle Clark

A Season to Remember - A Christmas Anthology blog tour - #1

A micro-story exclusively for you:

This blog tour brings very special people together. People who would never normally meet. This is the first stop on our theme of delving deep into the psyche of our characters from the forthcoming Christmas anthology - A Season to Remember - and today, through the magic author wand, we time travel and meet up with Laura from 'Three Ships', and Kitty from 'Sands of Time'. They meet quite by chance at a Christmas party held by a friend.


It was Christmas Day, and eighteen year old Laura Winter had just walked into the parlour and been introduced to the recently widowed Kitty Pryor. They shook hands, and a moment later a silent waiter approached holding a silver tray with two cut crystal glasses filled with bright mahogany-coloured sherry. They took a glass and raised it to each other in a toast.

“Merry Christmas, Laura.” Kitty smiled warmly at the pretty young girl.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Mrs. Pryor.”

Their eyes met as they took a sip of sherry and in an instant, Laura felt her shoulders relax. She didn’t know a soul at the party. Thank goodness she had someone to talk to.

“Let’s sit here on the sofa. My legs are aching from standing so long.” Kitty hobbled over and sat heavily on the tapestry suite. Laura joined the older woman and, for Dutch courage, took another sip of the sweet wine.

“Ah, that’s better,” said Kitty as she settled back on the seat. She turned to the young girl with an inquisitive gaze. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before. Tell me about yourself.”

Laura sank back against the padded back of the sofa, and exhaled. Normally she hated going to social occasions. She much preferred the solitary life in the lighthouse. But something about this older woman made her feel as though she had known her for ever.

“Well, I live on St Joseph's Rock. It's a tidal island off the Devon Coast near the town of Ashton-On-Sea. My father is a lighthouse keeper,” she said.

“I'm here with my fiance, Michael Renten, he's a Commander in the Royal Navy.”

Mrs Pryor smiled. It was a lovely smile but one that didn't miss a thing.

“I've found out where you live, who your father is and who you are engaged to, but you still haven't told me about yourself.”

“Oh!” Laura stopped and paused. No one had ever asked her that question before. She gave it another moment's thought then continued.

“I'm training to be a teacher, well for the moment, although I'll give that up when I marry—it won't go to waste though.” Laura blushed. “I plan to teach my children, if we're so blessed.”

“Ah, the young women of today have it good,” said Mrs Pryor. “Young women back in my day had to give up work when they married too. Today women can go back to work six weeks after having children.”

Laura's eyes widened. “Who looks after their children?”


“Teachers like yourself. Most women can't afford to stay home with their babies.”


After a shake of her head, Laura took another sip of her drink. “I think the future is very confusing.”

Thank you to Elizabeth Ellen Carter - author of Three Ships, for contributing to this very special and exclusive micro-story of the meeting of two women - one old, and one young.

On November 28th, you'll be able to download your free gift copy of A Season to Remember, and enjoy four stories full of romance, adventure, love, and Christmas. Stay tuned for the download link.

Elizabeth Ellen Carter   |   Eva Scott   |   Susanne Bellamy   |   Noelle Clark

A Season To Remember

A Christmas gift is coming your way. That's right - along with a few author friends, we are releasing a
Christmas themed anthology free of charge, to say thank you to all our loyal readers.

'A Season To Remember' will be available for you to download before Christmas.

Thanks to fellow authors: Eva Scott, Elizabeth Ellen Carter, and Susanne Bellamy. Stay tuned for sneak peeks at our stories.

How many authors does it take to have a PAR-TAYYYYY?

My good author buddies are flung far and wide across our beautiful planet, but we were lucky enough to get together to wish each other a very merry Christmas.

Cat Cavendish - Wales
Shehanne Moore - Scotland
Anne Lange - Canada
Sharon Struth - USA
and myself in Australia

This is what happens when we gals get together:

 

Mangoes for breakfast

Christmas in Brisbane, Queensland.  The sub-tropical city which once slumbered as an easygoing, slow paced city, derided by her larger and more brash southern relations, Sydney and Melbourne, is now a bright, bold and bustling city herself, full of rushing people, constant traffic jams, and cafes.
But on one day of the year, Brisbanites are able to take a step back in time to an earlier era.  Christmas day in Brisbane is almost always a hot, sunny, summer day. Locals almost always spend their day at the beach, having a picnic or barbecue lunch, or at home around the swimming pool if they have one. It is a busy day, trying to fit in all the in-laws and sundry family groups, but on the whole, it is a relaxing and chilled out day.  People gorge on too much cold chicken, turkey, ham and prawns.  Salads that wilt in the heat have to be eaten quickly and then put back into the refrigerator to keep them fresh.  Heady aromas from barbecue marinades can be smelt in every suburb as sausages, steak, lamb and prawns, are all cooked to perfection by the man of the house in five minutes, the praise lavished on him for a wonderful meal while the woman of the house has been slaving for hours, even days, to prepare the feast.

But there is one thing about Christmas in Brisbane which never fails to get

the attention of all and sundry.  That one thing involves eating mangoes for breakfast.  These days, eating a mango is relatively sophisticated, as they are now cut so that the eater can smother a square of the delicious, sweet, juicy, golden fruit with one bite, delving back into the wetness time and again, to take another bite, enveloped in the gorgeous smell.

When I was a child, we would sit on the wooden back steps of our house, and suck on mangoes for hours, eating through a bucket of the fruit in a very short time. The stringy fruit would leave long threads of fibre in the gaps between our teeth that were sometimes impossible to remove.  Sometimes we would get a 'mango rash' around our mouths from eating too many mangoes.  Mum would always be at us to make sure we washed our mouths properly after eating them.

There was a mango tree in every suburban back yard in Brisbane when I was a kid.  Massive trees that invariably had rope swings hanging from their substantial branches.  But in the months leading up to Christmas, small, hard green fruit would appear all over the tree.  The trick was to try and retain as many fruit as possible, knowing that the fruit bats, or flying foxes as we called them, would come and decimate the crop if we weren't vigilant.  Some people put white mosquito nets over their trees to protect them.
 
Then there were the Brisbane thunder storms that would come creeping in from the south-west, blackening the skies and blotting out the sun, huffing and puffing with frighteningly loud thunder and jagged lightning that would scare the pants off everyone.  The storm would drop a tropical downpour of inches of rain in a few minutes, causing flash flooding.  Often times it would be accompanied by cyclonic wind and hail as big as tennis balls.  The storm would wreak its havoc across the suburbs and back yards of Brisbane, knocking the young mangoes from the trees. 

Alas, some Christmases, mangoes were light on. It was those years that Brisbanites found out about Bowen mangoes.  Those huge bullock-heart sized fruit from the far north Queensland town of Bowen, whose flesh was soft and creamy and stringless.  No threads stuck in the teeth, just sweet, soft, ripe and meaty flesh that, when eaten, brought moans from people akin to erotic moans of pre-orgasmic proportion.

These days, in modern Brisbane, no more sitting in the bath tub to eat a mango.  In fact, we don't even bend over the kitchen sink to eat them. These days, we devour our mangoes in a most sophisticated way, eating each dice from the skin and remaining relatively clean.  Except for me.  One little hangover from my childhood is that I simply cannot bear to throw away any skin which has flesh left on it.  I suck at the skin and remove every portion of the sweetness, my face gets smothered in it, the smells makes me feel heady, rivulets of juice run up my arms as I hold the mango, reaching my elbows before I know it.

Christmas in Brisbane.  Mangoes for breakfast.  Now, THAT is sheer bliss!

Life after NaNoWriMo

After my devout dedication to the task, my '30 days of Literary Abandon' - which is NaNoWriMo,I seem to have lapsed into one of those people who just can't seem to find the time to write. What happened to that person who would say, hey, if I REALLY want to write, I will find the time?

Well, I can tell you what has happened. I let real life get in the way. But I can say that I now know the bliss of actually putting my writing before anything else - except the necessity of working full time with a two and a half hour daily commute - before my writing.

So much has happened in the past week and a half since I finished NaNoWrimo:

• Two work Christmas parties

  

  Anderson and Danielle

• Day to day living with my two grandchildren, for one of whom, it is his very first Christmas
• Going to the airport at midnight to pick up our adopted 'Prodigal Daughter' who has been on walkabout around the world for nearly five years
• Catching up with friends - an annual Christmas time flurry of coffees and lunches, talk fests, and promises to not just do it once a year
• Digging through the old shed for the Christmas tree and decoration
• Christmas shopping (albeit online this year), wrapping gifts

• Spending quality time at a sleepover with my 93 year old mother and my two dogs
• Attending the Queensland Writers Centre Christmas party and rubbing shoulders with many of the best authors and writers in the country, enjoying their company, and making new writing acquaintances
• Planning a holiday for early next year to Cambodia and Thailand, accompanied by fellow author Matt T. Dillon
• and, last night, watching the moon as it turned red for the lunar eclipse.

My 93 yo Mum, Olive Dillon (nee Clark) and Karob

My life seems to be back in the 'normal' zone, whatever that is. But NaNoWriMo, whilst challenging, allowed me to see that 'normal' is chaotic, noisy, expensive, stressful, and emotionally draining. I think that, if I could, I would live in the wonderful, peaceful, self-realising world of NaNoWriMo all year long.

Hmm, maybe that should be my New Year's resolution this year?

Little Santa - Anderson 8 months old

Karob, my little Moodle