Ozzie Ian's Christmas

“Well Doormat, We’d best have our Christmas breakfast before our guests arrive.’

Doormat who had been sitting on my lap purring as I patted her turned her head away. “I’m not talking to you. You had that horrid Jacinta here yesterday and where did they get that super charged Sammy, he spent all day crawling after my tail.”

I laughed and put her down; she glared at me and swished her tail. Then her eyes swung to the door she stood alert.

I listened, what had she heard: all I could hear was the tropical rain flooding down.

Then I saw the figure through the window. Hell what were the neighbours think?

The dainty lady dressed in black with whip in hand was about to knock.

I opened the door and the crinoline clad Li’ll lady flew into my arms and kissed my cheek. Doormat wrapped herself around the lady’s ankles.

I swung her around. “What are you doing here so early?”

She pointed through the still open door. “We can’t meet as planned for our traditional Chrissie barby at the Yarran No waterhole. So I thought I could help you to clean up and hold it here in your hut.

I laughed. “I’m one step ahead of you. I cooked the Turkey last night, as soon as I realised the rain would prevent our traditional barby I cooked the prawns (Shrimp) in brine and now they are in salted ice.

The Li’ll Lady spied my red Esky (Portable ice box) and opened the lid. Her eyes went wide. “Where did you get prawns like that? They must go about thirteen to the kilogram.”

I laughed. “Had them flown fresh from the Gulf yesterday they go between four and five to the pound.”

She stirred her hand around in the ice. “Must’ve cost you a fortune. There are a lot here.”

I laughed. “Nope including the freight they set me back nine dollars a kilo. About four a pound.”

She gasped. I smiled “Doormat and I were about to have breakfast want to join us?”

“What are you having?”

I started towards the fridge. “The traditional ham eggs and thick chips (Fries).”

I got the leg of ham out and was warming the electric carving knife. She smiled. “Step back.”

Her whip cracked twice, two inch thick ham slabs fell to the plate. It was true what they say about her whip the bone was neatly cut by it.

We were sitting at the table there was a smile on the li’ll Lady’s face as she licked her lips. “I haven’t had ham as good as that in years.”

I nodded sadly. “And you probably won’t ever again, Ever year I sit and eat my Christmas ham and wonder if that will be for the last time.”

She looked in my eyes. “Howzat?”

“Modern health regulations make it illegal to produce ham in the old fashioned way. Old Smokey Bill still makes his hams from wild boar and smoked in the way the first settlers did. He makes a few each year for his friends but he is ninety two now and when he dies the art dies.”

There was sadness in her eyes. “We have lost so many things in the name of progress.”

I nodded. The sound outside caused the Li’ll Lady to grab for her whip and sent me hurtling towards the door.