(prompt: 'tradition' 25/12/2020 — repeating the last prompt of last year because it's the first part of a continuing story)

"I've never realised how difficult it must be to imagine our Aussie Christmas... not only minus snow, but usually celebrated in blistering heat, sand, flies... all the good stuff we generally brush away with a casual Aussie salute. Man and womanfully many of us scoff down great hot and heavy lashings of English-style fare, because... well-ll-ll... it's our tradition!" I fix Kanute with my most studious, knowing stare. "And you Danes are no different either, are you?" I don't need a mirror to know my face is wearing its best, most triumphant grin, accompanied by smarmy, self-satisfied head-nodding. But then I soften. "Tell me again about your Danish Christmas Eve on the farm... from the beginning!" And I make our standing joke statement as I rest my chin in the palms of my hands—"I'm ALL ears, NOTHING in between!"

"Well... of course, it begins with the kids," he says. "Doesn't it always? Everywhere around the world? We'd all be woken up as the first light crept across the fields. Birds hopping around over the thatched roof, singing their hearts out. Mmm... loveliest ever wake-up alarm! I'm thinking breakfast was pretty ordinary, with regular chores to be done; cows milked and all animals fed; stables mucked out—and the dairy and animal housing, too. Winter in Denmark last century meant all our animals were housed to keep them alive. Warm as toast it was, in their sheds. Did I ever tell you that?"

I shake my head. "No! But it's not hard to imagine."

"You'd put your cold hands and face against old Katrina and you'd be ready to milk her in moments. AND give a cheeky squirt or three to the cats, lined up for their early morning energy shot. The dogs would be too busy in the darkest corners of the barn, checking for rats. Every critter knew where their warmest bed was waiting to be found." His smile speaks volumes about those homely comforts.

"At l-o-n-g last, after a simple farmer's open-sandwich lunch and cup of coffee, it was time to decorate the sleigh and the horses with holly and red ribbons and bells... lots of bells. Into our best of best clothes, up on the sleigh with the eldest son of the family driving, and away to Church, for a special Christmas service with carol-singing by the church choir and joined by the whole congregation. SO many candles and sparkling gold and silver and brass religious artefacts... bright, shiny glimmers reflecting off each other, everywhere."

I picture the small impatient people hanging out and hollering from the jingling sleigh as they travelled through the pristine snow, wending their way back home, where the adults had been furiously assembling the (as yet) unseen Christmas tree in the top lounge. The children's excitement would be at fever pitch, knowing a pile of presents would await under that most special tree, aglow with numerous 'live' candles.

The children could barely breathe. It was surely beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

...to be continued in Part Two!