Christmas snaps

 

 

This was going to be our family Christmas card, but that, along with many other things didn't happen this year as we played Business-Start-up-At-Christmas in all its full Island technicolour glory (or should that be gory) and then pretty much fell over in a collective heap on Christmas Day, although the energy that the boys displayed opening their Christmas presents belies that a little. We are all still standing, the Bakery was a blast and we even managed to relax for a few days (although I suspect Tyler just loved the 8 hour sleeps more than anything else!).

 

Frankly I'm too tired to write much so will post a few pictures for now and then write a longer post over the weekend. Just wanted to touch base and wish all a Merry Christmas and hope that you are all enjoying your holidays. 

 

Boys do Christmas Crafts

This present was clearly a hit!
 

I think this was the Jedi Starfighter stage
 

I would love to say Georgie's yelling "Let's recycle" but he wasn't

Boxing Day braai



 

Carrot Bay House Christmas

 

 

 



 

Boys

Despite a tough couple of years experienced by all immigrant families establishing themselves in new countries, we've somehow managed to produce and maintain three lovely boys - smiley, quirky and real little gentleman who all seem to be going from strength to strength.

Imagine our pride last night when James received the INTAC 'Sportsman of the Year" Award at the RBVIYC Commodores Dinner. We are so happy for him as James has shown such fortitude and determination throughout his first year of racing, all whilst maintaining his sense of humour and patience - both with his parents (as we struggled to get him to regattas and remember practise days) and most importantly, himself.  A Big Up, as they say on Isle 95FM,  to you James Noel Dawson, our brave and beautiful boy. Very well deserved. 

Those of you who know me, know that I'm actually quite a girly girl. I've always had a slight horror of becoming the consummate Jolly Hockey Sticks Mother of Boys, having to throw out elegance in favour of efficiencies needed for managing multiple sports calendars and truck-loads of smelly socks.

Quite a few of my fears have definitely been fulfilled and you should see the interesting line in Bad Hair scarves going on right now which William called "good Christmas hair"  because it looked like snow. He also offered to give me a 'massacare' the other day, as my nails were so tatty.  Tyler's current Unibomber- style beard also falls into the category of 'effeciency' along with Dilbert Pointy-Haired Boss hairstyles. Sadly no yummy-mummy, island-style happening here and definitely no yoga on the beach in my pink cowboy hat, as I had imagined my life to be once we hit the Caribbean.

But you know, so bloody what. My time for yoga and style will return and as long as one can scrub up (and shave) occasionally when it matters and remember not to go out in ones tracky bottoms, to hell with the yummy-mummy thing. I'd rather have three lovely boys anyday, who light us up from the inside and make all this Mortal Coil worthwhile - so Big Up, Dawson Boys xxx

The rest of the week was spent icing biscuits. 

12.12.12

I'm not going to pretend that we are having an easy week. We're not. The Christmas Season is kicking in and we're flying. I've already iced about 800 Christmas biscuits and Tyler is baking stollen as I write this. This is a GOOD thing!

The boys have had wonderful reports for the year and will be breaking up on Friday for 2 weeks of Christmas Holidays. I too go on 'holiday' which means one less ball in the air and can then mercifully just focus on the family and the Bakery for a while. The Tree (shipped in from Canada, no less) will be acquired on Saturday and trimmed on Sunday, with eggnog and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Carol CD which comes out every year (Memo to Self: Find It).

Today, however, has been a sad day for our family as we remember my sister-in-law who died seven years ago, leaving my very dearest Shelley, Paula and Myles without a loving mother and a wider family, bereft. My family was cruelly victim to losing both my brother Noel (born just before Christmas) and Beryl, and we live with these awful gaps in our lives everyday.

Nothing eases the loss, but we are stronger for knowing that life always carries on and we look with real gratitude for what we have: A fightingly fit 83 year old matriach of a mother/grandmother/great grandmother in Cape Town, a wonderfully connected and loving extended family, caring friends, a thriving business, a stimulating job, the best husband and my little tribe of boys. Our family lives on, thriving but mindful of how precious life is.

As I gear up for another long night of baking, my middle child said this: "I know you are working hard Mom, but at least you are at home with us". It may not be very glamourous but at least it's not Lagos or Dubai or SAA. I am where I want to be. 

I know we've passed Thanksgiving and it's not yet Christmas - but here's to my family and friends. I love you all very much. xxx

Beryl, Layla & Lia
 RIP

Work Play Sleep

Trying not to fall asleep

"Gee, your blog was boring last week, Sweetheart" my delightful husband mentioned to me one evening, so this post is filled with action-packed photos of speedster children, idyllic Sundays and some professionally taken photos of the bakery, so as not too disappoint my fan(s).

Saturday 1 December: First mince pies

The week was the usual work, work and more work. Claudette was flabbergasted that I'd not done any washing between last Monday and today ("Where da sheeeeeets? Ah Lawdy, My Dear, LOOK at da WASHING!!) with the children starting to scour the dark (but dust-free) corners of their bedrooms for odd socks and other items of clean clothing.

The Big Christmas Baking Marathon is starting to get a grip on our household again, which pretty much means that nothing else gets done, apart from some beans on toast for supper. This is a good time for the children to learn some  independence and how to make scrambled eggs for themselves.

The upshot of this domestic crunch however is that we've upped Claudettes hours to deal with the washing crisis (you have no idea howmuch washing 3 little boys and a Baker generate on a daily basis) and we wont have to scandalise The Saint on a Monday anymore.  I consider this my Christmas present and an excellent one at that!                     


The week seemed to last about a year with me ignoring any signs of jetlag and Tyler doing his usual 18 hour days and the boys at school. Our week actually carries on right up until 2pm on a Saturday, at which point we close the bakery and zoom home, usually on our knees.  Amazing, however, how a hard week can just melt away when you have a lovely weekend.

On Saturday, James raced in the VI Cup off Little Thatch, and did rather well for himself (he's gone from last in his class to mid-field) but then had to sail upwind for 2 hours to get back to Tortola - which meant he slept really well that night!

Saturday night was bitter/sweet as we dressed up as Kraftwerk (white shirt, black jeans, thin tie & eyeliner) and Siouxie Sioux (my personal 80's heroine) to say goodbye to our former neighbours who are moving on to Singapore, at an 'Eighties Party' at the Last Resort. The Last Resort is a rather special place, where generally one doesn't get out alive: It's a slightly rattly restaurant/club on it's very own island which is, of course, only accessible by boat. Not quite Vegas, but similar. It's a bit like the John Lewis of Parties: Never Knowingly Not Fun, which this party most definitely was with lots of bad dancing.

After at least 3 hours sleep we awoke to mist, grey skies and a distinct chill (mercifully) in the air on Sunday morning,  which along with my Mypradol-worthy headache, almost had me staying in bed and getting the duvet out. However we'd been invited to join some new friends on their beautiful catamaran, so we braved the rather gloomy day and drove through torrential rain to get to Village Cay. "What's that?" the seven year old asked Tyler as he grabbed his windcheater to take along for the choppy-looking Channel. He did not remember what one looked like, as I dont think Tyler has ever worn it here before.

And what a wonderful day it was: The sun came out and the sea glittered. We snorkeled at The Caves on Norman Island, which we'd not done yet and then headed off to the Indians where we moored off and played for hours. The boys kayaked, paddled boarded, wakeboarded and I even waterskied (having not done so for at least 15 years) whilst Tyler managed to snooze on the trapeze.

We staggered home and all fell into bed , the children as happy as clams but too tired to even eat supper. Tyler and I had egg on toast in bed and then slept like the dead. Bliss.

The Seven Year Old Skipper. Don't do this at home folks.

Back on-island

I'm home after nearly 3 weeks away on business. I need to state this right up-front (that I was on business that is) as I was asked a couple of times whilst away if I was enjoying "semi-retirement"?  The first time I was asked this, I sprayed my coffee/wine/Red Bull all over the poor person who had innocently assumed I was, more due to my minor outrage that I would even be considered "semi-old" enough, let alone that my life here must be the very opposite of  "semi-retirement". As my mother has pointed out (several times in fact) I now have 3 full-time jobs, which does mean, I suppose, that I must definitely still be young then.

It was a long trip. It had it's up and downs, but there were highlights. Staying at the London NYC on Election Day in New York was a good way to kick-off the trip. I had a fine time sitting in the Gordon Ramsay 'Maze' Bar people-watching whilst I nursed a glass of prosecco (I'm not good at nursing drinks). It was too cold (0C to be precise, we lost over 30 degrees in one afternoon) to go out and join the revellers in Times Square, but I was very happy to watch it on TV whilst saying  "that's only a few blocks away from us".

I can never get enough of swishing through the veld on the Gautrain, which is a deeply cool way to arrive in Africa, but the trip took a bit of a nose-dive when the next day my credit card was swallowed just in time for the weekend. Since the taxis in Joburg all seem to be very smart Mercs, this was not really a hardship but it put pay to any spontaneous popping in on friends and shops. Despite all of this, I was able to enjoy   'Joburg Book Club'  which sort of carried on until 2am-ish, shopping with girlfriends, a lovely lunch with my former boss and his wife and a really fantastic evening out at our old family 'local'. 

The highlight of the trip was probably the five days I stayed with my 83 year old mother in Cape Town. She gamely kept up with me as we did some extreme shopping last Saturday, whilst I piled up on bakery goodies, Jedi Starfighters and yet more shoes for the boys - which is just as well as I didn't have a spare second in London. Being a Taurean, I have a set Harvey Nichols-Sloane Street-Peter Jones-Kings Road routine which I've probably done twice a year now for the past 15 years.  I was a bit anxious that I couldn't stock up on our usual elderflower cordial and John Lewis Christmas crackers but I'm sure life can go on without these items, despite my need for seamless continental continuity.

I also managed to go 'off piste' and see some friends who I had reconnected with on Facebook. I caught up with my first serious boyfriend who now has a child the same age as we were then (20) and a lovely friend in London who I had not seen for 18 years. Seeing friends again is one of my greatest pleasures. I'm reading an excellent biography on Queen Alexandria at the moment and what struck me was how they all kept completely connected with each other through constant letter writing and the expansive sharing of news about the minutiae of everyday life. I like this.

The flight from Gatwick to Antigua on Virgin Atlantic was actually brilliant, as the planes have just been upgraded with remotes that look like iPhones and iPad TV's. I spent a very happy 8 hours swiping away and catching up on music, movies, reading my book, munching choc ices and relishing the last bit of time to myself before getting back to my "semi-retired" life here on Tortola.

It was hard to leave the boys behind, especially as I knew Tyler was already working flat-out with the bakery without the added demand of 3 kids, various needy animals and copious amounts of washing and other domestic stuff. Everyone managed heroically but we were all relieved to be back together again and no permanent damage appears to have been done.

We really do live in a backwater here and so I like going out into the big wide world, only to return again.  I always get terribly smug when asked "which hotel" when arriving back in the Caribbean and am able to reply "I live here". 

Who needs an MBA when you have housework and Halloween?

The Crew from the The Lost Ship. Photo by Emily

 

No surprises what the boys went dressed up as to the Halloween Party. They are boys. We live in the Caribbean. It's really not that difficult.  James channelled Johnny Depp (rather well I thought) although he's smiling too much in the photo above.  After a few drenching rain squalls, he was looking much more authentic.  Georgie had been scheming up his costume for weeks. He even had a whole story that went with it.  Botanist on the Lost Ship stays out in the tropical jungle for too long and goes mad (probably due to the mosquito's and the humidity, I should think.  I too have days when I could relate to this story.) William as the 'Crazy Cabin Boy' was  pretty good at striking a pose and seemed to rather enjoy scampering around looking menacing, but of course he's far too cute, so just ended up looking scrumptious.  Anyhow, for not a single cent spent, we managed to pull all this lot together on Friday evening, ably assisted by some loud music, quite a bit of Chile's cheapest finest and a rather well-stocked props box (which since we only live in slip-slops, shorts and vests these days, means most of Tyler and my former wardrobes).  

 

Not that I ever thought I would say this, but I've quite enjoyed cleaning the kitchen this morning, There is something surprisingly soothing about Soft Scrub and washing up dirty saucepans that seems to put my rather jangled nerves back into line, and by the time I had finished cleaning out the fridge (you can see I had a LOT of thinking to do) I'd already thought through a few future business scenarios and come up with a plan. But not the cash. That's where Halloween came in.  A surprising source of business wisdom I know, but I was much comforted by the fact that we seemed to pull together a prize winning costume combination out of fresh air, which is pretty much how we are going to have to fit-out and pull together the new bakery and coffee shop, which will be 'ours' by the end of the week. Terrifying and scary, I know, but clearly we are nothing if not resourceful, so I took heart from this and slashed our budgeted fit-out costs by about 80% and felt much better afterwards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving along

Another week has gone by. It had nothing particularly special to distinguish it from all the others I don't think. It's still bloody hot. Lots of mozzies. The kids have been off doing judo and sailing and football and piano and squeezing in a bit of school and homework occasionally. Lots of baking. Lots of hedge funds. St Claudette of Jamaica is still on her mercy mission, thank goodness (we tidy up the house every Sunday evening before she arrives on Monday).

We're definitely moving into a new phase in our island life as we settle into the business and our new routine. I'm sure that everyone is a bit tired of me wittering on about how howmuch sailing the children have been doing, which is always a lot anyway, and how exhausted we are. I'm reduced to thinking in 'Pinterest' inspirational messages which one cuts and pastes into ones life and I feel like I need to push the Refresh button a little bit. 

Time therefore to start a new blog, before the hard work really kicks in.  We hopefully start the building work on our new bakery outlet/shop in about 2 weeks time and then we'll have about 5 weeks to get it all finished to be open in time for Christmas. It's a lovely space where we can showcase all our breads and baked goodies, as well as seasonal and local produce. Most importantly however is that it will also have air conditioning.

I'm busy developing a new website for the bakery (very slowly I must hasten to add) as well as a new blog which is all about our adventures with some eating, drinking and recipes thrown in for good measure. I'm almost ready to start the transitioning (it's on Word Press) so I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime I'll carry on wittering along here until we all lose interest, I'm eaten alive by mozzies or Blogger (the blog platform I use here) implodes in a hissy-fit of blogging overkill and shuts itself down.