I have weird dreams. Most of the time, I wake up and the dream quickly fades although I remember it being weird. Sometimes, when I do remember them, there are people I don't know but for some reason, we're acting like best friends. Other times it's people I do know doing things that are out of character.

My dreams come in colour, black and white and in some cases, repeats - I'm like summer television sometimes. I can recall having the same dream a number of time and knowing it is a dream inside the dream, then trying to change the outcome but that never works. I do remember when I was kid, if a dream started to scare me, I would roll over in the dream and cover my head with a blanket and the dream would end.

Anyway, let me share.

Last night I had one of my weird dreams and it hasn't faded away. I'm not a dream interpreter so I have no idea if there is any hidden meaning in any of it.

Like most of my dreams, it started out simply enough - it was raining hard and the back yard of my house, which is on the top of a hill, was starting to flood from the rain but the houses around mine which are lower weren't. Even though the hill runs down to the street, the water wasn't running away. It just slowly got higher but there was a lot of water rushing out of the runoff pipe in the street. I looked under the house and the water level was rising under there as well, but again, not running off.

Then things changed. It wasn't raining anymore and I was at another house that I didn't recognise in front of a garage by myself. I looked up and a guy that has recently stopped talking to me walked up to me and said I should kiss him so I did and he smiled and sat down on a chair that appeared from nowhere and started talking like we were good friends (I don't remember what he said though). Then the uncle of another friend, who I haven't seen in years, appeared and introduced himself to the guy for no reason.

Now it gets really weird.

Out of the blue, the actor who played "Urkel" in that old TV show walked out of the garage and they guy looked at him and said "You're gay" to him and "Urkel" said "why yes I am" and then he hugged me.

The scene changed again and I was in a kebab shop somewhere. The kids of one of the instructors from the gym were all working behind the counter and another customer in the shop was a mutual friend of ours. My instructor friend came into the shop and looked at me and our mutual friend and suggested that we both leave since her husband was coming over. I got annoyed at this and made a point of talking to him when he did arrive.

Then I woke up.

Honestly, it makes no sense to me whatsoever, but that's the sort of thing that happens to me regularly. Random people, random (and ridiulous) situations. In this case, I knew everyone in the dream - a rarity. Spookily, there are times I will dream something and a while later, a similar portion of that scenario will happen in real life but make sense. Someone once suggested that in those cases, the present was giving me a false memory somehow, but I don't think the mind works that way - I could easily have some minor psychic ability or just be imagining it.

I am open to suggestions.....

Greetings dear reader,

There are a couple of physical attributes on people that I have a preference for over anything else - red hair and eyes. I bet you thought I was going to say something rude...

I like red hair because it's different to what we are normally exposed to and people who have red hair, generally have freckles which I also like (red haired child with freckles? Oh gimme gimme gimme!!!). Also, I would have loved to have been born a ginger myself but, unfortunately, my genes are too imperfect for that.

Despite my love of red hair, I am really into peoples eyes. You can show me a one armed man with a prosthetic hook, and I'll look at his eyes long before I notice he's wielding a potentially lethal piece of arm candy.

I like eyes for a couple of reasons. Some come in amazing colours, some are shaped either just right or totally wrong for the face they are on but my biggest love of eyes is because they are probably the only part of a person in which you can see the truth of who they are. If you're not looking at someone while they are talking, they will find it easy to lie to you - look into the persons eyes when they are telling the same lie, and you'll know right away what's going on. It's even easier if they're avoiding looking at you - don't believe a word of what's being said if the speaker can't even look at you while they're saying it. I know when I used to lie to my parents, I never looked directly at them.

There is a saying that goes "the eyes are the window to the soul". Since I don't actually believe in souls, I'll say that "eyes are the window into the person" instead. It may sound a bit out there, but even if I see a photo of someones face, I can generally tell if they are a good or bad person. I remember looking at a photo that I took of a friends nephew and I commented that he must be the evil child of the family - my friend was surprised I saw it but confirmed my conclusion.

Sometimes, I think people are blind to what they see in a persons eyes because they concentrate on other aspects of them. For instance, someone entering into a new relationship might be more concerned about the physical appearance of their new partner or the physical side of the relationship rather than looking deeper into who that person is. A guy/girl might have a great body, a good sense of humour and the same interests as you, but if the eyes are all helter skelter, they might be one to avoid.

Sometimes I wonder what people see in my eyes. Without blowing my own trumpet, I know I am generally a good person so I hope that shows. Of course, sometimes I'm angry and I'm pretty sure that shows when I am in that particular zone. What about when I'm feeling down? Do people see that even though I try to give the impression that everything is alright?

I don't see what's behind my eyes because I don't need to. I already know everything there is to know about me. I do need to know about you though - can I trust you or should I run very fast away from you? If I look into your eyes, I'll definitely know.

Greetings dear reader,

If you are confused by the title of this blog effort, I suggest that you read this blog entry from the start and keep going till you get to the end because it's going to be the most personal blog entry that I have ever written.

In short, I am gay.

I was gay yesterday, I'm gay today and it's highly likely that I will be gay tomorrow (pending the apocalypse/return of Jebus of course).

In fact, I have been gay for as long as I can remember. Girls have never really interested me outside of people to talk to. The earliest that I can remember being interested in boys is way back in my history - somewhere around 2nnd grade when I was 7 years old. I won't go into the details of  how I realised that I liked boys at that age but suffice it to say I liked the bits of the boy involved a great deal - wish I'd stayed his friend through my school life.

Yeah, it's been hard being gay and pretending to be straight (or str8 if you are hip and cool and 12 years old) but I've been living that way for a long time.

I am 46 years old right now. I have been pretending to be heterosexual for over 30 plus years. That's a long time to keep a secret. One or two people have guessed that I have been playing a game but most of my friends still think that I am a "normal" heterosexual man. Believe me, I haven't been out to discourage their theories.

This is what fear does to you - it causes you to deny your true self and it makes you try to fit into a lifestyle that doesn't match how you really feel just so you can make other people feel comfortable.

What I am may possibly be worst kept secret at my workplace - I was once informed by a workmate that I don't do a good job of hiding my sexuality - I always thought that I was doing a great job of hiding who I was. I'm a pretty smart person (I think) and I think that I would have noticed people treating me differently from the norm if they had an inkling of my sexual preferences. I may be terribly naive if I missed any signs along the way. On the other hand, if my workmates have been totally oblivious to which way I swing, then I really must work with some blinkered people.

At the end of the day, I am still the person I was when I woke up this morning. and I'll still be the same person tomorrow when I wake up (albeit, a very hungover me). I just figured that if a friend of mine had the courage to come out at such a young age then I should also be as courageous as he was at my age.

Being gay is not a choice, a sickness or a protest against traditionalism. It's just people being the same as you but a bit different in the people they like. Tomorrow, I don't want to be treated any different to how people treated me today when I got out of bed. I respect people for who they are, not how they feel and expect nothing less in return.

All I ask is that you look at me tomorrow the same way you looked at me yesterday - is that too much to ask?

Dear reader, there are few absolutes in life. Certainly we are born, live our lives and eventually die. In between birth and death, we do things like grow up, form relationships, work and pay taxes, breed and watch our children grow up and live their lives.

All of this, of course, happens in an ideal world. Unfortunately, we live in reality where the only real absolutes are being born and dying. What happens in between these two events is left up to genetics and fate and sometimes neither of these situations works out to be a good deal.

Generally, when someone dies they have had a pretty full life. They are adults who have lived long enough to have enjoyed a life full of experiences that we would look at as normal - the simple things like dating, courting, marrying, having children and getting grandkids. These are the big events in the average persons life. Of course, there are those who walk a different path and achieve their greatness through sporting, political or artistic achievements.

I am always saddened when I hear that a  young person has died. I am 46 years old. If I were to die tomorrow, people would be sad, but at least they would know that I achieved something in the time I was alive. It may be insignificant, but at least I would have had the opportunity to gain some life experience. I would hope that my friends would be sad for a couple of weeks but then get on with their lives.

I have one strong belief in my life - no parent should outlive their child - ever.

I think that there are a lot of people in mourning at the moment over the passing of Matthew Barclay, a 14 year old boy in Queensland a couple of days ago. People who didn't even know Matthew, but are parents themselves, understand the pain that this boys family is going through. I'm not a parent and I am saddened by it myself.

The reason that I am saddened by this meaningless death is because Matthew was only 14. Unless he was an exceptional teen, he had little opportunity to gain any life experience beyond being a child. There is no way of knowing what his life would become. Whether it be a sporting star or some kind of academic, the potential that was locked inside of him is gone. This really does go for any young person who dies prematurely. Whatever potential they have is lost.

Words and hollow platitudes will never fully give closure to Matthew Barclays family, but they will always have those 14 years to look back on and remember him. They may take some small comfort in the fact that he died doing something that he loved but their lives are now changed forever. As for the rest of us, well we will probably forget about Matthew in a week as more important things happen in our lives.

I have many friends who have children at various ages. My message to them is to love them more every day, listen to what they have to say, accept that they may not live up to your expectations or plans for their futures and to love them unconditionally. They will always be your little boys or girls.

Later days.

Trivial fact number 220:- Blackbird, who was the chief of Omaha Indians, was buried sitting on his favourite horse.

Greetings once again dear reader.

I want to dedicate this post to my very good friends Barry, Julie, David and Matthew Hankin who are mourning the loss of one of their family pets this week.

A while back, my beautiful cat Buffy got herself into a fight and one of her eyes was badly scratched which resulted in a lot of time and money spent at the local vet. This was back when she was a purely outdoor cat and was only ever let inside to eat. As for how she spent the rest of her time, I had no idea.

Up until that happened, I never really paid much attention to her outside of the occasional pat on the head when she came in to eat or the rare times she decided that my lap was the place to be for a while. As a result, I didn't really think about her past the point of being a pet.

It wasn't until she got the eye injury that I understood how much she meant to me. The vet gave me two choices - put her down or let him operate and take out the eye. Even though I knew that an operation on a cat that I got for nothing in the year 2000 ma end up setting me back a lot of money, I told the vet to do whatever he could to help her out. Thankfully, after he put her under anesthetic and got a good look at the problem, he decided on a wait and see option and gave me drops to put in her eye. While it still cost me a lot of money, I ended up with a cat that had two fully functioning eyes and was a lot more affectionate and interested in staying at home.

Sure, that is a great humanitarian story, but what that event showed me was how important to me my lowly pet was in my life. I'm not married and I don't have children so, in a way, my cat is my child. I can guarantee that if I lost her through sickness or an accident, I would be as upset about it in the same way that I would be if I had lost a child.

Over the past weekend, I had some friends lose one of their pet rabbits through an accident - I'm not exactly sure of the details, but I know it would have only happened accidentally. A lot of people would not understand why they are so upset about it, but after the experience I had with my cat, I can totally understand why they are distraught.

Okay, at this point, you are probably wondering why anyone would be upset about a rabbit dying. A few weeks ago I would have been agreeing with you, but after witnessing the way my friends treated their rabbits and realising that they were just like any other pet, I got it. It doesn't matter what kind of critter you have as a pet. They will become a member of the family and you will get upset if something happens to them.

My sympathies go out to the Hankins on their loss. Words of condolence are the only things that can be offered to ease their sadness so that's what I am giving. It isn't much, but I hope the sentiment is understood.

Later days.

Trivial fact number 219:- Coffins which are due for cremation are usually made with plastic handles.

Greetings dear reader. I hope you are well.

Very rarely do I venture into the political world in my internet musings, but I was unfortunate enough to be channel surfing looking for something interesting on TV and I caught an interview with Julia Gillard, the Prime Minister of the great land of Oz, which left me feeling like I was passing a terrible car crash and just couldn't stop myself from slowing down to take a look.

Poor Julia. Ambushed at every turn by interviewers asking direct questions and expecting her to give direct answers. Unfortunately, she lacks the ability to go off script and be candid about any subject. I guess her handlers realise that if they let her off the leash, she'll just start talking nonsense for hours on end and make herself out to be a bit of a dill with a superiority complex way bigger than mine could ever get (and that's saying something).

While watching the interview, I realised that her speech patterns sound very similar to that of Margaret Thatcher. While both women hold the honour of being the first female Prime Ministers of their respective countries, at least Margaret won her position fair and square the first time around.

Julia is not a popular leader. It isn't because she's a woman so she can't go pulling that card whenever she gets criticised. The policies she's peddling on behalf of the ALP may (or may not) be the right thing for the country, but she doesn't come across as being a person of the people.

Men obviously dislike her simply because she's a woman and the land of Oz is a seriously misogynistic land indeed. Women, on the other hand, don't like her because she isn't a good representative of their needs.

Politics aside, people in general are interested in the personalities of politicians. If they are interesting, we will happily sit and listen to them talk about what they think. If they come across as dull and boring, we will think they don't know what they are talking about. Julia fits into category B in this case. She may have a couple of Bachelor Degrees, but when she starts talking, she sounds like a robot - the monotone speech pattern is really off putting.

I honestly feel sorry for Julia and her time spent as the leader of this country is going to become somewhat of an example to some sections of society as to why women shouldn't be in positions of power. Great Britain may have suffered under the leadership of Margaret Thatcher, but the one thing you can say about her was that when she made a decision, you knew it was her decision and she wasn't prepared to back down. Julia Gillard, on the other hand, knows her days are numbered and is willing to let other people pull the strings and use her in the same way a ventriloquist uses their dummy to speak.

The coming days/weeks will be interesting for Julia, the ALP, and the country in general. There are whispers of a Coup d'état which may see her lose her position to the previous Prime Minster, Kevin Rudd. Based on what I saw in the interview on TV tonight, I'm fairly certain Julia is in total denial about how she is perceived by the general populace and her own party. Either that or her handlers are keeping her in the dark about things.

I would have hoped that when we got our first female Prime Minister, we would have gotten someone who had a mind of her own and was prepared to make hard decisions for the good of the country. Pandering never gets you anywhere in the end.

If Julia was modelling herself on Margaret, she has failed dismally.

Later days.

Trivial fact number 218: - Ethelred the Unready, King of England in the Tenth-century, spent his wedding night in bed with his wife and his mother-in-law. AWKWARD!!!

Dear reader, on the eve of Australia Day (that's the day that we descendants of white Europeans officially celebrate the colonization of the great land of Oz and those who like to think of  themselves as representatives of the original inhabitants of the great land of Oz think of themselves as being invaded), I thought I would turn my thoughts to the concept of patriotism. I do this because the other day, I was accused of being "un-Australian" because I have never played the game of Two-Up. In response, I assured my accuser that I also did not like Vegemite, support Rugby League or fly the Australian flag from my car.

My personal belief is that I don't need to go out of my way to prove that I am patriotic. I was born in Australia, grew up in the western suburbs of Sydney and have only ever left the shores of this great southern island once - certainly many less times than a lot of my peers.

I don't think there is any defined definition of what makes an Australian an Aussie. If you take a random sampling of us, you'll find every one of those questioned would have a different idea of what it means to be Australian. The one thing that they would all agree on is that we are an easy going and tolerant people in general. The term "she'll be right mate" is one that really should be considered the countries motto. It fits so well in all situations - been bitten by a funnel web spider?

She'll be right mate.

For most of the 20th Century, defining the culture of Australia was pretty easy. We were a prime example  of everything British in the first half and then things started to change when those strange foreign people started to arrive. For the most part, since these new comers were from Europe, they were happily accepted into our communities and as a result, their skills contributed to some of the major infrastructure improvements that we take for granted today.

The Greeks, for instance, integrated themselves into Australian society so well that you couldn't go to a milk bar without being served by one of them PLUS they didn't really care that their business establishments were referred to as "wog bars" by us when we were kids. At that stage, multiculturalism was in  its infancy and wasn't the wussy girl it is now.

Australia is a haven for people wanting to start a new life. It always has been and I hope it always will be. The world today is a different one to when i was a kid. We had "boat people" then but they were Vietnamese people escaping from a regime that was quite happy to kill anyone who disagreed with them.

Nowdays, the "boat people" come from a different place and we're unsure what to do with them. However, that's one of the great things about being Australian - it doesn't matter where you come from, you're going to be welcomed with open arms by most people because Australia is a place where we aren't that worried about who you are or where you come from. We just want  you to enjoy the better life that you came looking for.

We Aussies only ask one thing of you when you come here to stay - leave all your excess baggage behind. You made the decision to leave your crappy country for a better life so we'd prefer it if you didn't try to turn this place into your crappy country. Embrace the new freedoms you have found here and take time to relax.

After all, at the end of the day, she'll be right mate.

Later days.

Trivial fact number 218: Ethelred the Unready, King of England in the Tenth-century, spent his wedding night in bed with his wife and his mother-in-law.

Dear Mrs. Nibbs,

I can't believe that it has really been just over 30 years and one month since we last sat together and talked about my future. It really doesn't seem that long ago to me but time has this strange way of screwing our memories around as we get older - the good times are fleeting and  meetings seem to last for days.

Anyways, enough of worrying about the way time flies. Recently, thanks to the mystery of life that is six degrees of separation, our mutual friend, Jule Hankin, told me that you had decided to retire from teaching at the end of last year. I was quite shocked because I didn't think that you would be old enough to be giving the game away. I always thought you were only about 10 years older than me which would give you at least another 5 or so years or so chipping away at the impenetrable walls that are teenage minds.

When I heard the news, I felt that I had to at least wish you well in your new life of ease but I also wanted to let you know what effect you had on my life. You may never have known that your efforts to teach me had any kind of effect on me, but hindsight is a most wonderful creature and when I look back over this past 30 years, you definitely had a  positive influence on me.

I had the privilege of being taught English by you in 1980 & 1981. My initial thoughts on meeting you were that you were too thin and could really do with a bit of a feed, although if you were like that now, you would probably be classed as a super-model and be living the high life somewhere exotic. The other little thing that I found odd about you was that you wore a gold mens watch, analogue and wind-up. I asked you about that and you told me that for some reason, your body tended to suck the life out of ladies watches. Was I impressed by that?

Yeah.

I don't think that you saw your role as one to teach us English in the traditional meaning. As year 9 &10 students, we really should have been beyond all of that before getting to high school anyway and, most of us knew how to read (albeit excruciatingly slowly in some cases) and write (in my case, there were at least 2 letters in each line of writing that was legible).

You will be happy to know that the advice you gave me about never ever using Cursive again has stuck with me all this time and I have been printing everything that I physically write.

Rather, you were there to teach us how to appreciate the English language in its various forms from poetry to plays to novels. Even pop music came into play one term when you had us analyzing songs. I may have actually done well on that assignment so one out of a years worth isn't really that bad is it?

The things that I realised that I had gotten from you was that love of literature and the English language. There is nothing I enjoy more than to being able to make time to devour a book. I am currently reading the collected works of Kurt Vonnegut but my real love is Stephen King but I will read anything given to me good, bad or indifferent. I have still not read anything of Shakespeare.

I also took from you a small passion for putting words down on paper (or on a computer screen nowdays). When you consider the "essays" that I produced for assignments, you would probably think that writing anything would be the last thing that I would be interested in doing but I have discovered the beauty and power of words that you obviously saw and tried to pass onto me all those years ago. This is why I took up writing my various blogs.

The last conversation we had was on December 4, 1980 just after I had been handed my school certificate. Unfortunately, you had been forced by me through my general apathy of that year to give me the final grade that I got but when I confronted you about it, you told me that you felt I had the potential to do better and that I should continue onto year 11. I guess you realised that I had sabotaged my own future and were willing to throw me a lifeline.

Had I been able to return the next year, I would not have progressed to year 11 - I would have repeated year 10 and developed the potential you saw in me. I realised a number of years ago, if I had, I probably would have been more likely to go into teaching than where I am now. What would I have taught? Ironically, English (although that's probably the incorrect use of irony).

I don't know if I have said what I wanted to say properly. It always sounds better in my head but once I start typing it and having to put it into some coherent order, things get lost somewhere. I just wanted to thank you for being one of the important people in my life who probably would not have known how much of a positive influence in it you were.

So to you Mrs. Nibbs.... well I guess now that I am an adult, I can call you Jo-Anne. So to  you Jo-Anne, I say thank you for giving me that insight into what the English language could be and the joy of reading. It means that you did good.

Happy retirement.

Kevin Wilson

Well dear reader, that's it for 2011.

And what a year it has been. Global economies have been merrily crashing around everyones ears, nature has taken a few swipes at the human infestation of the planet through flood, fire and the odd volcano and earthquake and Molly Meldrum seems to have survived falling off a ladder putting up Christmas decorations.

I've always said Christmas was a dangerous time of the year.

Once again, I have managed to keep a generally low profile and achieved my preferred level of averageness. I've found some new friends, lost/misplaced some old friends and became reacquainted with some friends I haven't caught up with in a while. Of all of the friends I have have been involved with, building bridges and getting back together with old friends has been the best part of my 2011 friendship status.

Of course, the end of a year is the time when people reflect on what they have/have not achieved in the past 12 months of their lives. Some will obsess over it, others will just say "meh" and move on. I live in the latter camp.

For me, 2011 was nothing extraordinary. I didn't make any life changing decisions or live beyond anyones expectations, although I highly doubt anyone in my life expects too much excitement or spontaneity out of me. Since it has been predicted that the world will cease to exist at the end of 2012, I figure I should look ahead and attempt to predict what the next 12 months has in store for me. Let's see if any of my predictions for 2012 come true:

January:

The ghost of my grandmother will come to me on what would have been her 112th birthday to remind me of what a poor excuse for a human being I am and how my idiot older brother is a much better person than I could ever be. She will also produce the pair of underpants with skidmarks that were used as an excuse for not taking me and my idiot older brother to the beach one summer to emphasize her point.

February:

I will turn 46 and declare that I am now middle aged as it is my intention to die at 92. This is an age that I have deemed to be acceptable as I also predict all of my mental and physical attributes will be intact and Euthanasia will finally be legalised.

March:

My idiot older brother will finally realise that the universe does not revolve around him and he will stop blaming everyone else for the way his life turned out. I will welcome him back into the family unit with open arms and find many new and interesting ways to humiliate him on a daily basis.

April:

The tradition of "April Fools Day" will come to an end when a seemingly harmless prank directed at the President of the USA by the Prime Minister of Australia results in the carpet bombing of Tasmania. At the same time, Easter will be given a definitive date.

May:

The Australian Dollar becomes the standard by which all other world currencies are measured against after China repossesses the United States due to their inability to repay their loans and Europe finally gives the game away financially and returns to the dark ages. Let them eat cake will become the new call to arms.

June:

The fan base of Star Trek will become so large that it will be able to declare itself a religion, claim tax exemption and influence world governments to move towards the ideals espoused by Gene Roddenberry when he created the show.

July:

The Australian Tax Office (ATO) will introduce a new tax return. It will have two questions - "how much did you earn" and "what is 50% of that amount". Overnight, the Australian Government will become rich beyond the wildest dreams of the rest of the world.

August:

A 77 year old Elvis Presley will emerge from hiding to reclaim his title of the King Of Rock & Roll. Graceland will be closed to the public and Elvis will once again take up residence. His first demand will be a deep fried peanut butter sandwich packed with Quaalude's.

September:

The aliens who originally built the pyramids in Egypt will return to see the results of their labours. Disappointed with what they find, they remove the pyramids and reanimate Tutankhamen who goes on what ends up being an unstoppable rampage and destroys the entire country.

October:

North Korean President, Kim Jong-Un, realises he has got the most ridiculous hair cut in the world and that's why no-one takes him seriously. He lets his hair grow out and re-unites North and south Korea and becomes a major player on the world stage not too far behind Australia.

November:

Dolphins, whales and sharks suddenly disappear from the worlds oceans. Japan goes into depression as a result. Only one man knows the reason for this mass desertion of the planet of this sea life but he refuses to tell.

December:

The world ends on the 21st. Have you not seen the movie? The special effects alone were worth admission price!!!

That's how I see it dear reader. If any of my predictions come true, I will be amazed at myself and totally bemused by the way the universe works. If none of them come true, then I'll be happy knowing that I am full of shit.

Dear reader, all that is left to say is that I wish you and whatever you have in your life that passes for a family or life partner nothing but the best for 2012. May your dreams come true and my your love for your fellow man grow stronger.

Later days.

Trivial fact number 217: Princess Ann was the only competitor at the 1976 Montreal Olympics that did not have to undergo a sex test.

Merry Christmas dear reader.

Well, it's that time of the year once again when thoughts turn to Christmas and, since I haven't really posted anything worthy of reading in quite a while, I thought that I might regale you with memories of Christmas from my childhood.

They have to be from my then because nowdays I try to ignore the festive season as much as possible outside of the  well wishing and free food and booze I end up being offered - it doesn't have to be Christmas for me to accept free food and booze though. For that, my door is open 24/7.

When we were kids, my mother made sure that Christmas was done in a traditional way. Decorations, Christmas cards strung up on the wall and the traditional Christmas lunch with all the trimmings. The decorations usually went up around the 2nd week of December but we knew for sure that Christmas was closing in on us about a week before the day - suddenly we were banned from entering our parents bedroom and there was absolutely NO LOOKING UNDER THE BED!!! Something we obeyed until it was discovered that Santa wasn't real and that under the bed was where most of the presents were hidden.

On Christmas Eve, we were sent to bed earlier than normal and our parents waited until they figured we were asleep and they would drag all of the presents out, wrap them and place them under the tree. There was none of this putting gifts under the tree weeks before the day in our house. That would have given away the secret of Santa. Mind you, I gave that secret away myself when I inadvertently stumbled upon the real "Santas" in the backyard attempting to assemble a swing set by the light of a torch. I was sworn to secrecy but blabbed the next day to my brothers anyway - who doesn't enjoy crushing their siblings fantasies?

The living room was locked to prevent us from getting to the presents before the appointed time on Christmas Day but that didn't stop us trying to see what we could through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. FYI, you can't see that much. When our parents woke up, they made their way to the lounge room to turn on the Christmas lights and put any finishing touches to the previous nights activities before opening the door and letting us into what (for small impressionable children) looked like a fairyland of lights and a floor covered in wrapped packages. There was also Christmas music playing on the radio too.

For us, it was a fairly ordered affair, with our parents selecting which gifts we would open first - usually the one marked "from Santa". There was usually one or two big toys, a lot of small toys, books and always new clothes. It's hard for a kid to get excited about new socks and undies but somehow we managed it and gave hearty thanks as well.

I remember that one year when I was in primary school, my father gave me $5 to buy my mum a present ($5 being a pretty hefty sum in those days). I bought a relatively cheap bottle of perfume from the local chemist and proudly presented it to her on Christmas morning and I felt that she appreciated the thought that went into my gift. When I was clearing out her belongings after she died, I found that little bottle of perfume on her dressing table. She may never have used it since she never really wore perfume, but she never threw it out. Out of curiosity, I opened it to see what it smelled like.

It was bloody awful.

The ritual opening of presents took about an hour then it was eat breakfast, get dressed and be banished from the house to the yard to play while my mother got started on Christmas lunch.

I mentioned earlier that we always had a traditional Christmas lunch. Obviously, the tradition of roast turkey and lamb, baked potatoes and pumpkin and assorted other vegetables boiled to within an inch of their lives was one that had traveled over from England with the first fleeters and would have been perfectly suited to an English Christmas in the middle of Winter. There is a measure of insanity in attempting the same thing in the middle of an Australian Summer but every year, my mother did it. In todays modern age, it isn't a big deal but you have to bear in mind that our house was a housing commission place, constructed of only the finest asbestos laden fibro sheeting with no insulation and home air conditioners hadn't been invented - it was, after all, the '70's.

Christmas lunch was always at our house so the lounge room became a temporary dining room for the day. Until my mother and my Aunt had a falling out, there was a fairly large crowd that would descend upon our modest abode and my mother would catch up on all the happenings going on in her side of the family. As my father was originally from Queensland and none of his relatives ever visited, we never knew what they were up to.

Christmas Day was also the only day of the year that my mum indulged in a bit of alcohol. When we were young, it was usually a shandy but later, she enjoyed a few glasses of Passion Pop and when I eventually took over the role of cooking Christmas Lunch, I made sure that she indulged quite a bit because she really loosened up and seemed to be happier.

After lunch was over and whatever guests we had were gone, all that was left was the clean up and returning the living room to its original purpose. Since we were all too full, we generally never had an evening meal - if we ever did, it was something light like a sandwich or breakfast cereal. For a number of years, my older brother and I were shipped off to my grandmothers place for two weeks. I don't know what the reason for this was because my grandmother disliked me immensely and I had a miserable time - but that's another story for another time.

All in all, Christmas when I was a kid was a special day. My memories of them are happy ones. Even knowing that Santa wasn't real didn't dampen my enthusiasm for the day. It was just that one day of the year where everybody had a good time together and whatever nastiness that went on throughout the year was forgotten and family was more valuable than anything else.

So, dear reader, in the spirit of Christmas past, when my life was simpler and I wasn't as cynical as I am today, I would like to wish you and your family and friends a very merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year. 2011 has been an interesting year of ups and downs but we can hold out hope that 2012 will be a lot more stable.

Don't forget to leave the cookies and milk out for Santa.

Later days.

Trivial fact number 216 - People in Siberia often buy milk frozen on a stick - down here in the land of Oz, we call that an Ice Cream.