Ho, Ho, Ho …

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At last the sound of Christmas is past, and as the holiday dust settles, life returns to some semblance of normality.
Not that I’ve ever prided myself on being any kind of normal. It’s not really something to aspire to, is it? Not, in my books if ‘normal’ translates as bland and neutral or – worse still – colourless.
But Christmas is always a great reminder of the diversity – and tensions –  that can exist within a family, because we all have different perspectives on what constitutes ‘normal’ – read acceptable – behaviour.

My family has burgeoned in recent years as we have accepted into the fold the partners of our children and their parents, siblings and friends.

Christmas lunch can be a real cracker, so to speak. In 2012 we split the festivities into several parts to accommodate the factions. And so it was that we had a pre-Christmas lunch with one lot and a proper Christmas lunch with another. The latter was so successful – mostly due to the incredible location – that we decided to do it all again.
Rex, the ex with whom I no longer have sex, lives in an amazing old farm cottage a few metres from high water mark.  The original 5th generation farm house is up the hill and those brave enough to negotiate the steep drive down to the water’s edge will be rewarded with one of the most tranquil retreats it is possible to find.  For the second year in a row we sat at long tables under a makeshift canopy designed to keep the rain off. Fortunately there was more cloud than rain and we stayed dry and happy while lunch was prepared  –  by my ex-husband and sons. Oh, yes! There are some rewards to divorce and ageing.

And so it was that we, a raggle taggle bunch of relations; and friends, new and old; enjoyed a delectable Christmas lunch of fresh and smoked seafood on a grassy lawn edged with a rock wall lapped by the sea.  
We spanned in age from 15 months to 81 years. Friends came and went throughout the day, and when the farmer’s wife dropped in with a Christmas gift, she was persuaded to join us for lunch.  What an asset to the day she proved to be. A talented artist, she has recently won a significant fine art award for a mixed media airbrushed painting. It took her three years to learn to airbrush, because along the way she made the latent discover that she has all her life suffered for dyspraxia – a chronic neurological condition affecting co-ordination which, to one degree or another, afflicts around 10 percent of the population.

Having dyspraxia has not stopped this amazing woman from creating detailed art work that would make you weep for joy. Dyspraxia may not be nice, and its sufferers may not be considered ‘normal’, but the world thrives on difference and diversity, and it is to be celebrated and enjoyed by us all.