Christmas times...

25/12/2010

When I was a young one, say in primary school days, we had a used to have Christmas holidays at the end year which also coincided with the end of year school holidays. As we were wont to do, we had this little nifty songs that we would come up with just for the occasion. We had a mix of a famous Christmas song that would go:

'Tis the season to be be naughty,
fa la la la la la la la la,
burn the maths books and the textbooks,
fa la la la la la la la la la,
set the teacher's desk on fire,
fa la la la la, la la la la.'

I awoke this morning with that song playing in my head; a random hum of the same permeates my room as I get into the Christmas mood. I mean, it is Christmas and though it shall not be a 'white Christmas' (26 degrees begs to differ) it shall still be an epic one. There are certain duties that need to be carried out on such days by the men of the house and top on that agenda is the death of the goat to be partaken. That done, and the hapless animal hanging decapitated and skinned upside down off a tree, and fire set up for the open roast.

The beauty of Christmas at home is the superb atmosphere. Graced by my uncle and his family and a friend peculiarly named Jesus, Christmas could not have been better. Humour abounds as stories galore are flung about the fire. Picking myself up after every tale gets harder and harder as they evolve from the true to perhaps only bits of truth and more fiction. How much more awesome can Christmas get? I don't quite know.

Jesus (pronounced as Hesus!) took photos of the barbecue so as soon as I can track him down from Kakuma (way in the North of Kenya!) those shall be uploaded.

A great day was had by all; and memories galore shall remain with all present.

Oh happy days.

'tis the season to be naughty...'