So the week before Christmas, there was a party with absent friends, and it made us sad and we all had private tears, but it helped us remember that spirits live on:
check out those sexy feet:
There was a river that had to be crossed sometime before Christmas Day:
and Christmas lights in Loxton, starting with the Six White Boomers
followed by magnificent cactus:
and political statements.
There was a hot trip home. Cricket on the radio
and the choice of ice cream
Willows and geraniums.
The next morning, up at 4 am (is this the middle of the night, we’re the only ones up, will we get to the ferry in time…please, try to go back to sleep), followed by:
waves to be surfed;
runs to be made;
and egg whites whipped with a fork which led to forearms that couldn’t be moved.
There was sitting that had to be done.
Here is a sandwich made from white and wholemeal bread.
And here is an evening shot, taken with a gin and tonic in hand.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a bathroom that needs to be scrubbed and a dead tree that has to come down (what with the housesitters and everything).