Christmas catch-up

We're having a much needed and wonderfully lazy Sunday morning. The children are upstairs somewhere squabbling quietly amongst themselves and still playing with their Christmas presents and T emerged for about 15 minutes and then disappeared, probably back to bed. I had a brownie for breakfast and am still in my nighty. The various pets demanding food or love and attention are being studiously ignored. We may have a swim later, mainly to try and straighten out aching bodies.

The past 6 weeks or so have been pretty brutal, although we got through them somehow. Since we still have not managed to find experienced staff we simply did not have time to start training so close to Christmas. This meant 3am starts and 20 hour days for T, putting us up there with the Chinese Takeaways (which we ate most nights) and T driving past revellers on his way into the bakery every morning.   In the week before Christmas I took leave to help out and the days blurred by in a cycle of pastry making, baking, icing and deliveries.  The boys sort of got on with things and Claudette waged war on the home front, with the kitchen looking like it had been flour-bombed most days and all the machines on constant cycles trying to keep up with everything.  



This is how I did NOT look

Without a doubt the lowest point was having to go to a rather smart party in seriously grubby work clothes - in my case with a 'doek' in my hair, no make-up, tiny shorts, no bra (don't even ask why) and my oldest flip flops. So much for my 500 'pins' I've carefully been curating on 'My Island Style' Pinterest board featuring elegant white dresses, coral jewellery and jewelled sandals. Ha!

Gratifyingly, the Bakery was super-busy and we had a wonderful response to our Christmas list, for which we are both relieved and grateful. On Christmas Eve we made almost 500 mince pies and only stopped when we ran out of mince meat and apart from some gift boxes we had to tuck away for our own presents, we were completely sold out everyday. Tyler went grocery shopping at 10pm on Christmas Eve to make sure we had some fresh milk in the house but we had managed to get to the bottle store for champagne 5 minutes before it closed, demonstrating yet again the  priorities in our household (keep Mommy happy).

On Christmas Day morning the boys were mercifully kept pre-occupied with their stockings which Santa (and Grandma) had so thoughtfully provided. We also woke to a power failure so a great excuse to not to have to do anything apart from just open presents. For Christmas I received 3 aprons, India Hicks Body Polish and alcohol which I'm not quite sure what this says about me, but will all come in very useful!

Luckily we had been invited out for Christmas lunch otherwise it would have been Chinese takeways again, and we had a lovely afternoon in our old neighbourhood eating delicious turkey and all the trimmings and playing charades. We were happy to come home with full tummies and go straight to bed with 8 hours sleep being the best present of all! On Boxing Day we only got out of our pyjamas at lunch time and then suddenly had to pull ourselves together as we had friends over for a braai.

The rest of the week has been beautifully cool and quiet, with me on holiday and not getting through my 'To Do' list and the boys doing science experiments, 'killing' each other on the Wii and spreading Lego all over the house. Tyler and I both scrubbed up a bit yesterday for a very pleasant evening at friends for New Years drinks with the most delicious Jamaican food imaginable. We are planning to have our very first New Years 'At Home' just with our boys, the RoyalVariety Show on BBC, some sparklers and a delicious meal that T is planning. Couldn't think of anyway or anyone I'd rather be doing this with.

Happy New Year to all our family and frinds around the world and hope that 2013 is both onward and upward for all.

Christmas snaps

This was going to be our family Christmas card, but that, along with many other things didn't happen this year as we played Business-Start-up-At-Christmas in all its full Island technicolour glory (or should that be gory) and then pretty much fell over in a collective heap on Christmas Day, although the energy that the boys displayed opening their Christmas presents belies that a little. We are all still standing, the Bakery was a blast and we even managed to relax for a few days (although I suspect Tyler just loved the 8 hour sleeps more than anything else!).

Frankly I'm too tired to write much so will post a few pictures for now and then write a longer post over the weekend. Just wanted to touch base and wish all a Merry Christmas and hope that you are all enjoying your holidays. 

Boys do Christmas Crafts

This present was clearly a hit!

I think this was the Jedi Starfighter stage

I would love to say Georgie's yelling "Let's recycle" but he wasn't

Boxing Day braai



Carrot Bay House Christmas



Boys

Despite a tough couple of years experienced by all immigrant families establishing themselves in new countries, we've somehow managed to produce and maintain three lovely boys - smiley, quirky and real little gentleman who all seem to be going from strength to strength.

Imagine our pride last night when James received the INTAC 'Sportsman of the Year" Award at the RBVIYC Commodores Dinner. We are so happy for him as James has shown such fortitude and determination throughout his first year of racing, all whilst maintaining his sense of humour and patience - both with his parents (as we struggled to get him to regattas and remember practise days) and most importantly, himself.  A Big Up, as they say on Isle 95FM,  to you James Noel Dawson, our brave and beautiful boy. Very well deserved. 

Those of you who know me, know that I'm actually quite a girly girl. I've always had a slight horror of becoming the consummate Jolly Hockey Sticks Mother of Boys, having to throw out elegance in favour of efficiencies needed for managing multiple sports calendars and truck-loads of smelly socks.

Quite a few of my fears have definitely been fulfilled and you should see the interesting line in Bad Hair scarves going on right now which William called "good Christmas hair"  because it looked like snow. He also offered to give me a 'massacare' the other day, as my nails were so tatty.  Tyler's current Unibomber- style beard also falls into the category of 'effeciency' along with Dilbert Pointy-Haired Boss hairstyles. Sadly no yummy-mummy, island-style happening here and definitely no yoga on the beach in my pink cowboy hat, as I had imagined my life to be once we hit the Caribbean.

But you know, so bloody what. My time for yoga and style will return and as long as one can scrub up (and shave) occasionally when it matters and remember not to go out in ones tracky bottoms, to hell with the yummy-mummy thing. I'd rather have three lovely boys anyday, who light us up from the inside and make all this Mortal Coil worthwhile - so Big Up, Dawson Boys xxx

The rest of the week was spent icing biscuits. 

12.12.12

I'm not going to pretend that we are having an easy week. We're not. The Christmas Season is kicking in and we're flying. I've already iced about 800 Christmas biscuits and Tyler is baking stollen as I write this. This is a GOOD thing!

The boys have had wonderful reports for the year and will be breaking up on Friday for 2 weeks of Christmas Holidays. I too go on 'holiday' which means one less ball in the air and can then mercifully just focus on the family and the Bakery for a while. The Tree (shipped in from Canada, no less) will be acquired on Saturday and trimmed on Sunday, with eggnog and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Carol CD which comes out every year (Memo to Self: Find It).

Today, however, has been a sad day for our family as we remember my sister-in-law who died seven years ago, leaving my very dearest Shelley, Paula and Myles without a loving mother and a wider family, bereft. My family was cruelly victim to losing both my brother Noel (born just before Christmas) and Beryl, and we live with these awful gaps in our lives everyday.

Nothing eases the loss, but we are stronger for knowing that life always carries on and we look with real gratitude for what we have: A fightingly fit 83 year old matriach of a mother/grandmother/great grandmother in Cape Town, a wonderfully connected and loving extended family, caring friends, a thriving business, a stimulating job, the best husband and my little tribe of boys. Our family lives on, thriving but mindful of how precious life is.

As I gear up for another long night of baking, my middle child said this: "I know you are working hard Mom, but at least you are at home with us". It may not be very glamourous but at least it's not Lagos or Dubai or SAA. I am where I want to be. 

I know we've passed Thanksgiving and it's not yet Christmas - but here's to my family and friends. I love you all very much. xxx

Beryl, Layla & Lia
 RIP

Work Play Sleep

Trying not to fall asleep

"Gee, your blog was boring last week, Sweetheart" my delightful husband mentioned to me one evening, so this post is filled with action-packed photos of speedster children, idyllic Sundays and some professionally taken photos of the bakery, so as not too disappoint my fan(s).

Saturday 1 December: First mince pies

The week was the usual work, work and more work. Claudette was flabbergasted that I'd not done any washing between last Monday and today ("Where da sheeeeeets? Ah Lawdy, My Dear, LOOK at da WASHING!!) with the children starting to scour the dark (but dust-free) corners of their bedrooms for odd socks and other items of clean clothing.

The Big Christmas Baking Marathon is starting to get a grip on our household again, which pretty much means that nothing else gets done, apart from some beans on toast for supper. This is a good time for the children to learn some  independence and how to make scrambled eggs for themselves.

The upshot of this domestic crunch however is that we've upped Claudettes hours to deal with the washing crisis (you have no idea howmuch washing 3 little boys and a Baker generate on a daily basis) and we wont have to scandalise The Saint on a Monday anymore.  I consider this my Christmas present and an excellent one at that!                     


The week seemed to last about a year with me ignoring any signs of jetlag and Tyler doing his usual 18 hour days and the boys at school. Our week actually carries on right up until 2pm on a Saturday, at which point we close the bakery and zoom home, usually on our knees.  Amazing, however, how a hard week can just melt away when you have a lovely weekend.

On Saturday, James raced in the VI Cup off Little Thatch, and did rather well for himself (he's gone from last in his class to mid-field) but then had to sail upwind for 2 hours to get back to Tortola - which meant he slept really well that night!

Saturday night was bitter/sweet as we dressed up as Kraftwerk (white shirt, black jeans, thin tie & eyeliner) and Siouxie Sioux (my personal 80's heroine) to say goodbye to our former neighbours who are moving on to Singapore, at an 'Eighties Party' at the Last Resort. The Last Resort is a rather special place, where generally one doesn't get out alive: It's a slightly rattly restaurant/club on it's very own island which is, of course, only accessible by boat. Not quite Vegas, but similar. It's a bit like the John Lewis of Parties: Never Knowingly Not Fun, which this party most definitely was with lots of bad dancing.

After at least 3 hours sleep we awoke to mist, grey skies and a distinct chill (mercifully) in the air on Sunday morning,  which along with my Mypradol-worthy headache, almost had me staying in bed and getting the duvet out. However we'd been invited to join some new friends on their beautiful catamaran, so we braved the rather gloomy day and drove through torrential rain to get to Village Cay. "What's that?" the seven year old asked Tyler as he grabbed his windcheater to take along for the choppy-looking Channel. He did not remember what one looked like, as I dont think Tyler has ever worn it here before.

And what a wonderful day it was: The sun came out and the sea glittered. We snorkeled at The Caves on Norman Island, which we'd not done yet and then headed off to the Indians where we moored off and played for hours. The boys kayaked, paddled boarded, wakeboarded and I even waterskied (having not done so for at least 15 years) whilst Tyler managed to snooze on the trapeze.

We staggered home and all fell into bed , the children as happy as clams but too tired to even eat supper. Tyler and I had egg on toast in bed and then slept like the dead. Bliss.

The Seven Year Old Skipper. Don't do this at home folks.