Spirit.

Frankly, I find this time of year just a little bit unsettling. It's the excess and the gratuitous commercialisation of Christmas that doesn't sit well with me. Scarily, next week it's the school holidays and I'm way behind on the Christmas preparation....although I have been to the health food store and bought all of the organic dried fruit for the Christmas pudding that we make every year out of the big orange Stephanie Alexander tome. It was meant to be made in November so that it could steep, oh well. Deep breath.

Anyway, I still need to wrestle more suet off the misogynist butcher down the road, who has had to wait for a new beast to come in so that he can remove whatever fat is left on it's kidneys. Suet is hard to get and in high demand...it really is like asking him to remove a particular part of his anatomy and sell it to me in a little plastic bag. That's how reluctant he is. Apparently, according to the same butcher, and this is a tad gross, yet I am a firm believer in knowing exactly where your food comes from so that you can decide if you actually want to eat it or not....at the abattoir they remove the organs and the fat from the animal straight away to help cool it down. So, that means that most of the kidney fat goes into the bin before it gets to the butcher. As he then continued to lecture me...'most meat at other butcheries arrives already cut up in a plastic box.' I can't help but think that kidney fat is better in a Christmas pudding than thrown away in a bin. I have also ordered a free range, organic ham because I just can't bear to think about pigs in sowing crates suffering to become a Christmas ham as part of people's festive feasts...it doesn't seem so festive to me.

Anyway, having just been to prize giving assembly and seen our 11 year old daughter awarded with a prize for spirituality, I've been pondering how to put more meaning back into our family's Christmas.....rather than just losing it in the whirl of drink and consumerism which you are encouraged to overindulge in.

Pushing the pram up the hill on our walk home after assembly we passed our local gift shop Rose's Cupboard. In we went and despite Tobes exclaiming at the top of his voice that his teacher doesn't like tea towels, I purchased three gorgeous and most importantly, locally made Dish Pig tea towels:

One for each teacher, as a thank you for their help over the year. Aren't they gorgeous, they look like a vintage scarf and would be beautiful framed or made up as a cushion cover.

While I was at it I also assuaged my conscience and bought environmentally friendly cards made from recycled cardboard and vegetable based ink and I'm thinking of taking up Mother Down Under's suggestion and having my children make wrapping paper.....although I recoil in horror at the thought of the mess.....we still have green paint on the dining table from when our eldest painted a plate.....8 long years ago.

On the final leg home, Tobes and I chatted about how it would be  good idea, on the first day of the school holidays to head into town to the bookshop and choose some of our favourite books to put under the ABC Giving Tree for children who might not be waking up to presents under their tree. With this plan in place, I feel a bit better about the whole Christmas carry on now. Especially as the children and I are determined that first and foremost it is going to be a happy day...and let's face it that's all that I want for Christmas.

I have spent the rest of the week toiling away writing an article for the next issue of Tasmanian Style magazine. I thought I'd blow the old cobwebs out and revisit the field of expertise that I dedicated  years and years of my youth to training in, by writing about the incredibly talented Hobart based painter, Nicholas Blowers who shows in Hobart and in Sydney. We have one of his works on our living room wall and love it.......my mother thinks it's depressing and of course she'd be right as his main concerns are collapse and decay:

I must say it was a surreal experience having Nick come over for a coffee and a chat about his work, on the sofa next to his actual painting and to hear all about where it was painted and what his inspiration was. And then he cast a critical eye over other paintings by other artists that adorn our walls....and I had thought I was meant to be interviewing him. Anyway, it was hard work.....way back before I had children, how did I ever think I was going to write an Art Theory based doctorate. How did I ever get a third of the way through and present papers at conferences and create lectures based on it? How. They may as well have given me a lobotomy when I had a caesarian....four times over. Saying that though, I'm quite happy with how the article turned out.....although it has to go to the editor next, fingers crossed.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Rx