Memorable moments: The adult Santa

On a visit back to Cape Town, Ally and I were invited to the annual Christmas party of the "Hardcore Hiking Group," a tribe of adventurers we’d belonged to for years. Usually, our friend James—a naturally funny guy—played the role of Santa. But this year, James couldn't make it. As the visiting guest, I was bestowed with the great privilege of the red suit.

I donned the beard, padded the stomach, and made my grand entrance. I decided to channel the boisterous, floor-shaking energy of my grandfather, but as I stepped into the room, something shifted. I let out a deep, booming, guttural roar that echoed off the walls:

"HO! HO! HO! WHO’S BEEN GOOD AND WHO’S BEEN BAD THIS YEAR?!"

It was, in retrospect, terrifying. Instead of a "jolly old elf," I sounded like a vengeful mountain deity who had come to settle a debt. My "heartiness" was so intense it felt like a physical threat. A wave of pure, unadulterated horror swept through the room. Several toddlers immediately burst into tears, while others dove for cover behind their parents' legs, convinced that this massive, shouting red man was there to take them away. It was a demographic disaster.

However, when the sun went down and the "Adult Santa" session began, my frightening intensity finally found its proper audience. The hikers, fueled by Christmas spirit, were a much more receptive crowd for my brand of storytelling. The darker the innuendo, the louder the laughs.

"I know you’ve been bad," I told one regular hiker, "so let’s dispense with the small talk, little lady."

I leaned into the role with gusto, fielding requests with lines like:

• "Wanna come with me on the sleigh and join the mile-high club?"
• "Control yourself, dear—I don't want water on my knee."
• "I’m lonely up at the North Pole. To be honest, I need someone really bad. Are you really bad?"
• "Sorry I’m late... I got my sack caught in the chimney."
• "How many chimneys did I go down today? Stacks!"

By the time the night was over, the room was in hysterics. I realized then that while I might be a nightmare-inducing prospect for a four-year-old, I make an excellent Santa for the over-eighteen crowd.

Original post of the event

Memorable moments: The empty envelope

When I was in prep school, I went to spend Christmas with my friend Greg Perks and his family at his grandparents' house in Plettenberg Bay. It was a classic, sun-drenched coastal Christmas, and we all gathered in the living room for the sacred ritual of opening presents and cards.

The atmosphere was festive until Greg opened the card from his Gran.

He pulled it out, read the message, and his face immediately fell into a mask of pure confusion and mild disappointment. He looked at the empty envelope, then back at the card, and then at his mother, Barbara.

Barbara, meanwhile, was having an identical experience. She stared at her own card with a furrowed brow, looking increasingly concerned.

The message inside every single card, written in Gran’s elegant hand, was the same: "Buy yourself a present this year."

After the gift-opening ended, Barbara pulled Gran aside for a "little word," her voice laced with genuine worry.

"Mum," she whispered, "is everything okay? What did you mean by what you wrote in the cards? Are you... financially strapped? Do we need to help?"

Gran looked at her with total bewilderment. "Financially strapped? Heavens, no! Why on earth would you think that?"

"Well," Barbara replied, "you told everyone to buy themselves a present."

Gran’s eyes went wide as the realization hit her. "Oh my goodness!" she cried. "I’ve just been so busy! I sat down and wrote out cheques for every single one of you, and I fully intended to include them. But I’ve just realized... I forgot to actually put the cheques in the cards!"

Sure enough, a quick trip to her cupboard revealed the missing small fortune, neatly signed and waiting for a home.

Memorable moments: The CEO of Christmas

My friend Sean Peche had a father who was a true force of nature. He didn’t just participate in life; he commanded it. He ran a highly successful business, chaired the South African pigeon racing society, and headed the board of parents at our school, St George’s. At every school fete, he was the MC, and at every sports day, his voice boomed across the field with a resonance that made the official PA system look amateur.

In our world, Mr. Peche was the ultimate authority.

One day in high school, Sean made a startling confession about his early childhood. Like all kids, he’d eventually been sat down for "the talk" about the man in the red suit. But because of his father’s relentless energy and CV of leadership roles, Sean had a very unique misunderstanding.

When he was told the classic line, "Santa Claus is your dad," Sean didn't realize it was a metaphor for parents buying presents.

He took it literally. He spent a significant amount of time in a state of deep, existential confusion—unsure whether to be disappointed that the North Pole was a myth, or immensely impressed that his father managed to find time between the pigeon racing and the school board to fly a sleigh around the world in a single night.

Most kids lose their faith in magic; Sean just gained a whole new level of respect for his father’s time-management skills.

Xmas in Carcoar

A wonderful Xmas in Carcoar full of highlights:

• Relaxing trip up by train and home by coach. I really enjoyed both journeys.
• Staying 4 days (24th - 27th Dec)
• Our core group: Me, Tina, Ruth, Dom, Larry, Eugence, Shorna and Garry (Eugene's delightful Irish friends)
• Lots of talk about movies and TV shows. We are all movie buffs so so much to discuss!
• An absolutely delicious Xmas eve meal of lamb and chicken. Shorna and Garry also shared their scrumptious vegan fare.
• Xmas lunch under the apple tree at Shalom with a beautiful group of locals and visitors from overseas. The perfect venue.
• Lots of beautiful doggies at Shalom.
• Driving to Bathhurst with Dom to pick up Matt (having a deep conversation) and when we couldn't see Matt at the station, realising we had driven to Orange instead which is in the opposite direction. Matt was very patient!
• Invigorating dips in Ruth's wonderful plunge pool.
• Bonding with Ruth's gorgeous dogs, Gypsie and Mallie.
• Sharing the song I created for Tina. She was so touched saying "I feel so loved."
• Sleeping in Ruth's "chateau" down the end of the paddock. I slept so, so well.

Traveling up to Carcoar on the train

Xmas at Ruth's beautiful home

Xmas lunch under the tree at Shalom

My wonderful abode

Elna takes up watercolour painting

 She made me a beautiful Xmas card.

Some of her other beautiful creations.

Family early Xmas

Sam is spending Xmas in Bali with Matt and Jo and Ant will be in Plett so the family got together for a very early Xmas meal. Jo has a wonderful new camera which took these lovely photos. Matt joined in from Vietnam for a video call.