A family portrait

Everyone's parents do things that annoy them. My father constantly tries to take my photograph.

To set the scene: I am visiting the parents, relaxing in a sunny spot in their garden.

"Oh no, dad please don't take my picture."

"Now just sit up a bit straighter."

"Dad I'm relaxing."

"Ok so just relax."

"I was relaxed."

"And smile."

"Dad stop squatting. Do you know how many chins you give me when you take pictures from underneath?"

"I know you're protective of your image."

"I am not protective of my image. STAND UP. You're giving me chins."

"Cover them with your wine glass."

"You're meant to say I don't have a chin."

"Oh sorry."

"Are we finished?"

"Enjoy yourself"

"I was enjoying myself."

He pauses and looks through pictures.

"Sit up straighter.That's it. Now look straight ahead."

"I think I'm better from the side."

"You can delete any you don't like."

"I'd really rather not look at them, thanks."

"I know how it feels to be unphotogenic."

And with that I stand, leave my sunny spot, and go inside. I need to make a run for it before he suggests that on my next visit home I wear block colours. 

They're more flattering you see.

How many words?

Apologies for the silence. I’ve been offline.

Turns out, the South African adventure took me to a place with no wi-fi, no internet, and no signal. So, I was out of the twittersphere, disconnected from the email and off the blog. Sort of an enforced cold turkey from my Iphone. The poor thing, it couldn’t find a hint of 3G and it didn’t know what had hit it.

As I had begun to project human emotions onto an inanimate object, perhaps a break was timely.

I have only been an Iphone owner for a month or so but I cannot think of an event that has changed my life so radically.

I have become one of ‘those people’ who bumps into people and objects as I walk along, hypnotised by its screen. It flashes, it beeps, it’s just so darn, well, touchable.

One evening, after one such beep, the boyfriend asked  “Is that an alarm because you haven’t touched it in 3 minutes?”

And then it was gone. I had no idea what was happening in the world outside of the Brown Family Holiday.

Facebook missed me at least. Whilst I was away it was sending me emails (which of course I didn’t receive) telling me what I was missing and encouraging me to come back into the fold. 

And what did I miss? Turns out, not a lot.

So, picture the scene, I’m 6000 miles from home, my contact with the outside world is lying dejected in the drawer, and oh, did I mention – there was no TV.

So what does a family of 10 (aged 8 – 85) do over the Christmas season, without a TV?

Well, we made stained glass windows from quality street wrappers, decked the place in paper chains made of newspaper and even turned the wine boxes into a Christmas tree.

But the thing we did most of all, blog readers, was play charades.

Every night. For hours.

As my 85 year old grandfather dived onto the floor to evoke the word ‘collapse’, I almost collapsed of the inevitable heart attack. So, this is what people did before TV. Seems dangerous.

I’ve been back in the country 4 hours. The laptop is on, and of course I had turned my phone on the moment we touched the tarmac.

But now I know I can survive without her, she’s going off in a moment because I’ve got something very important to do. You see, there’s a Christmas special with my name all over it.

OK team, it’s a TV show. 2 words. First word: Downton. Second word: Abbey.

A family affair

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, and I’m buggering off abroad and missing the lot.

Well, not exactly, but I am going away for Christmas. When I tell people this, and they hear the exotic overseas location, they are somewhat envious. You see, I’m off to South Africa.

I say I’m leaving, and their minds drift to those daydreams they’ve had, no doubt whilst queuing in John Lewis or elbowing their way through bad-tempered shoppers on Oxford Street, dreams of running away – abroad, specifically.

Running away from the stress of being unable to find that elusive gift for your second cousin once removed, from the surly unappreciative look on your mother-in-law’s face as you present an undercooked turkey, from the hideous chaos of it all.

Yes, a Christmas that involves heat, beaches and does not have cranberry sauce or a distant relative in sight – that’s what people are dreaming of.

But it’s not that simple. Because I’m going to South Africa with the family. The entire Brown contingent will be getting together.  And with an age range from 8- 85, there’s not even a Mattel game that’s suitable for us all.

I know a couple who decided that they simply could not face another Christmas with their respective families. So they invented a well timed skiing holiday that was going to take them away from home for the festive season. And what happened? Well, they stayed at home alone, in peace, but then daren’t leave the house for fear of being spotted. They spent their Christmas hiding in the living room with the curtains drawn, in constant fear that their families could drive past and discover the truth at any moment. They couldn’t even pop to Asda to replenish the Quality Streets.

So you see, perhaps a family Christmas is preferable after all. 

It’s a good job. Cause this Christmas, we’ll be getting all the family, blood and extended, former and future, nice and tiresome, old and young,  sticking them in a room and celebrating the day.

A room that is 6000 miles from my room, with my things, my habits and my sanity.

Luckily for us all, we’re all far too British to actually fall out, so it will be sunshine, bbqs and a hearty dose of emotional repression.

So, turns out I’ll be embracing the Christmas chaos after all. I’ll just hopefully be embracing it from the poolside.