Sub-Tropical in Swaziland was always a loaded day in every sense. As a child, I alternated holidays between each of my parents after their acrimonious divorce in 1967 and the contrast was acute.My mother is a minimalist which meant a modest white faux tree, box of baubles and single string of lights. Glazed ham with mustard sauce and fruit salad. Minimum fuss and a vague feeling that the sooner it was over and done with, the better.My father was a maximalist, very sociable, invited a crowd, enabling him to neck the whisky unchecked, insisted on a real fir tree, a generous cold buffet, finished off with a flaming plum pudding, crammed with sixpences.
Load More
Load More