thanks very much, Liz, for thinking of this. Khatt has let me know about this, & I think they may be booking me a ticket in the next few days! I am just trying to secure a flight, right now, and have just found a very cheap one that I'm trying to get on to. and here's a little something for those of you who think australian's have no culture.. whipped it up last night!! 'Twas Christmas day in the chookhouse, and the chooks had been fattened a treat The men were out back, playing cricket , and the air was a shimmerin' with heat In the oven a turkey was sizzling, crammed with old breadcrumbs n stuff, And mum on her feet in the Aussie heat, and Cheryl was up the duff. And Dad was singing in the kitchen, Red Sails in the Sunset and more We told him to go to the chookhouse, and to yodel til the chooks all snore For dad's singing was rumoured hypnotic; twas said it would send you to sleep For whenever he warbled old grannie, passed out in the afternoon heat At one o'clock "Come an Get It" screamed mum from the back of the yard While Uncle Ted and his mates were gambling, and Ted laid the winning card The spuds were all crispy and fluffy, and the onions were sizzling sweet! The pudding was boiling in calico, while the plonk was aflowing a treat we all sat round, joking and whispering, while mum laid out the turkey with style Dad carved up each slice as we fidgeted, Uncle Ted with some drool on his dial Then up spoke old grannie, quite loudly, (she was deaf we all knew in one ear) Saying this year there's going to be changes – and she skolled a full schooner of beer. Her old grey eyes flashing with anger, as she looked with contempt and then cursed: "You dare to wish me 'merry Christmas'? You just hear my story first. Sixty years ago, in the summer, I came here an innocent bride, With your old grandpa Kevin, I thought it was heaven, but within ten tough long years he had died. For fifty sad years I've suffered, through bushfires, through floods and through drought She eyed off old Ted, leaned across to his head, and gave the poor bastard a clout. Then grannie stood up at the table, as we sat there, all raising our glass The carving knife high, she saluted the sky, and sliced off the turkey's arse. I never did like that old parson, his nose will go down a real treat With a cunning quite perky, she savaged the turkey, and slipped off in the evening heat. You can all go to buggery, you bastards, while you're at it you can take uncle Ted Then old grannie turned back, and she farted, then hobbled off slowly to bed. best wishes freda
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