I live on 10 acres
on a dirt road
off a dirt road
neither of which are in the latest VicRoads [ country street directory ] or any car SatNav as far as I know
so as you can probably imagine, the only people who find their way here are invited to do so, having been, at the very least, provided with a mudmap, [ noun- (australian) - map drawn on the ground with a stick, any informal or roughly drawn map ] and very, very specific verbal/written directions... and that includes the locals, although they, at least, will know where the Maldon turnoff is, or Tait's Tin Shed.
If they have any sense at all, they will also have packed a packed lunch and a compass just in case.
All of which means that if I want people to see the chrissy stuff I have to ask them.
So I do
at the drop of the proverbial hat
and that is why this morning the Christmas music was playing in the background, my special cinnamon oil was in the burner and the ginger cookies were ready and waiting in the Christmas teddy biscuit barrel.
I was awaiting the arrival of a minibus loaded with local seniors... maybe I wasn't exactly waiting with 'bated breath but there was a certain anticipatory glow.
and as I waited, the sky became grey and clouded over.
The heavens opened soon after
and I had to put all the lights on
I mean ... well we need all the rain we can get but did it have to be this morning?
...and then as suddenly as it started, the rain stopped and by the time the bus drove into the driveway, the sky was a glorious cornflower blue
and a good time was had by all [ including the goats who were fussed over as is their due ]
They peeked into every decorated nook and cranny, exclaimed over the number of bears, santas and snowmen. The one lone gent seemed a little bemused by all the fuss but took it in good spirit... and that little lady in the black skirt lovingly fondled and stroked each and every thing that caught her attention.
...and they gave me a sheepie mug to say thankyou. [ the seniors not the goats ]