The thing about spending Christmas in Australia is, it's hot. There is no snow, no fireplaces to warm to, Christmas trees are sold on busy city street corners and kids are finished school, for the year. I can't help but NOT feel Christmas-ey. Yes, the city is decorated, the big (fake) tree shines bright at night on Swanston Street, but something just doesn't feel right.
Having family 13,185 kms away is my biggest Christmas dilemna. What I miss about our Christmas' together are the stockings my mum hung on our doorknobs in the night. I miss the stacks of presents under the (real) tree. I miss the scent of evergreens. I miss my sisters latte's in the morning, my mums turkey dinner at 2pm, and my grandmas pumpkin and lemon meringue pies.
I was fortunate enough to be home for the Great Canadian Thanskgiving. I savored every bite of my mums turkey, stuffing, candied yams, mashed potatoes and gravy. I even ate a brussel sprout. Just one. It's funny what you miss when you're away from home.
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