We were, however, going to an Uncle Paul's Christmas Party! (cheering crowds).
You have to understand my excitement. Its my parents fault. They started the tradition years ago and took my sister and I to this end of year fundraiser for Rotaract Club.you can see how successful this event is, its been going for yonks!
I remember one year when it was raining and we weren't sure if the party would be cancelled and my sis and I were irritating the sh*t out of annoying my parents by nagging them to phone Uncle Paul and check if its still on. All day. Bloody phone wasn't being answered either. Kudos to my folks for keeping it together and not strangling us with the telephone cord.
I digress.
Another couple of our good friends were going to join us as first-timers, their boy being 4 months older than Luke. And I was dying to share the thrill I remembered with them and see their enjoyment too.
Special attention had been paid to the picnic menu. I had made my own version of my Mom's bacon and egg pie, quite yummy truth be told. Chicken viennas were chopped into chunks, sweet melon and pawpaw were diced, roast chicken was, um, roasted, and special cookies were packed.
"Darling Husband, where is the little red cooler bag? The one that is the perfect size to fit onto our laps as space on the tractor rides is limited, as stated in the Rules of the Party letter...?"
"Oh, I think I leant it to Donald."
"WHAT!?? bitch-moan-bitch-moan..."
I had to haul out the old cooler bag with the broken zip. Fabulous.
With warm clothes, nappies and a secret present packed for Luke, we left home on time. On. Time.!!! Anyone who knows us well will have fallen off their chair with surprise by now. Yes, well, pick yourselves up and sit back down.
The wind was howling in our home town but by the time we got to the Constantia Valley it was gorgeous, not a breath of wind on a perfect summer's eve. The Darling Husband is grumbling about his decision to wear jeans and sneakers as it is now quite warm. Also dragging a heavily laden cooler bag and crammed-to-capacity backpack up a hill does not lighten the mood much.
But all grudges are forgotten when we see Luke's excitement at the sight of the tractors and the families clambering into the hay-bedecked trailers and blazing up the hillside to disappear somewhere among the vineyards.
It was also amusing to note that the families are often second or third generation party-goers like myself, taking our own children to experience our remembered Christmas excitement.
Our turn was next and we all climb into the trailer and I feel Luke tense and grip my knee tighter as the tractor engine roars into gear and we lurch off up the hill.
He loses all his anxiety as we disembark and enter the arena and sees all the kids (and parents) having hay fights. This is the moment I pray he does not have a raging hay allergy that I don't know of. That would have added to the fun. Not.
Luck is on my side and despite having hay thrown at him and him responding in a similarly enthusiatic manner, Luke is experiencing a snot-free evening.
We go marching, we sing, we eat ice creams and drink Barney juices handed to us by Noddy, Big Ears and all the other Toyland residents. We lay out our blankets and share our picnic pickings with our friends. The pie really was quite good. I can email you the recipe.We sing carols by lamplight and lose track of all the animals on Old MacDonald's farm.
Time for Santa to come visit but only if we sing his all time favourite ditty, Silent Night. And blow out all the lights. We gotta work for the fat man.
With a loud cracking red flare Santa arrives on top of the castle.
"Hello children!"
Shrieks of excitement. Some of those shrieks were coming from our friend's little boy who got a tad overwhelmed by the red flare and was clinging to his mom for dear life. I don't think Santa rated very high up on his list that night.
But Santa needs his little Fairy helper. No sniggering, people.
So we all blow the lights out again and softly call "Fairy, fairy...".
Behold, a suspended sparkler fairy flits through the trees and lights up the castle' windows and casts beautiful light patterns up into the forest's canopy. A less dramatic but equally beautiful arrival of a cute little Fairy with sparkly wings who runs around the arena awing her audience and making all the little girls wish they were "real" fairies.
This little bit of fluff hands out the sweets that puts all your little darlings on sugar highs before bedtime.
Luke delighted in the present we handed to him, he is still too young not to put together that our friend's eldest son just happened to hand it to him and it did not, in fact, emerge from Santa's pile of gifts. In true Snyders style, he was more thrilled with the sweets that were included with the gift. But after having a closer look he was quite charmed with the family of plastic reptiles and amphibians he was given, making sure he examined each lizard and frog and making the croc "eat" the unfortunate snake's head etc.
Little batteries are fading fast and we head home on the tractors again through the pitch black forests and vineyards with only the twinkling lights of the peninsula below us to complete the magical evening.
Back on the road and heading home little snores from the back seat keep us company.
I can only imagine this was what my folks also heard on their way home all those many years ago. Maybe they also smiled to each other and thought with a touch of anticipation "Next year will be even better...!"
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