My Dad — newly returned from his jaunt to Africa — will be doing up a curry, I am guessing, tonight. My Mum will be around the house, probably playing with my nephew Nathaniel as Marie and Troy (Nathniel’s parents, my sister and brother-in-law) will sit on the couch and chat about what’s new these days. Annie — sorry, Isabella — will be relaxing, I hope, since she’s pregnant, and Martin will be happy to have her back from Africa. Or is he still in Nigeria? I have no idea, she didn’t mention in her email.
Anyway, all I know is that I miss my family, but in a kind of happy, used-to-living-faraway way. I imagine where they are and what they’re doing. This is what people who say, “You’re far away but you’re on our minds,” mean when they say it and really mean it.
As for me, I’ve got to go finish making dinner. It’s Christmas, but it’s also Lime’s birthday, so I gave her the pick of the meal, with the promise I’d cook whatever she chose. (It’s not as if I could cook a turkey on my gas range, even if I could buy one somewhere, so the traditional Christmas dinner is out.) Lime wanted spaghetti, so I’m doing Italian. Spaghetti Bolognese (sort of), a nice big salad, some bruschetta to start, plus a (hopefully) decent red wine. I mulled some passable red wine, as well, to have with our snacks.
But now I must got get my lunch, and get a couple of things done. We’re going off to drop a bottle of wine at the house of a couple of Ecuadorian nuns running an orphanage here where Lime has been volunteering, and I haven’t much time before our rendezvous. So I’ll just wish everyone a lovely, happy Christmas. May the people on your mind and in your heart also think of you; may you hear one anothers’ voices, and may you see them soon enough, if not on this day or the next.