An SMS from a friend proposing a trip to the beach put paid to all that. I had soaked the fruit for the cake in brandy and was half way through preparing the fruit mince. I knew the kids would love to get out for a bit, so we went.
Their energy was overflowing into scuffles as we got into the friend's minivan. We rechannelled it into singing our way through all the songs they're practising for the end of term ('Away in the Manger' heading the request list) and by the time we arrived at the beach my voice was fading from the effort of holding any sort of tune over the rumble of the bus and the blustering of the wind....the wind.
The beach was empty except for kite-surfers. We should have turned around at that point and gone somewhere else. But no! We'd said the beach and the beach it was going to be. The playful south-easter was hurtling sand along the beach, exfoliating our legs and mocking our attempts to put up the wind-break/shade tent by whisking it away from us as we tried to slide the bendy support poles up their sleeves.

One of us had to sit in it at all times once we'd finally succeeded in putting it up, as an anchor and tent pole combined! But the kids had a good enough time. They jumped around in the cold Atlantic Ocean and then dug in the shelter afforded by our tent, my son finding some rocks that broke the wind enough to make a castle. We had a fine view of the kite-surfers leaping high in the air and powering along the length of the beach. To see Table Mountain we had to be facing into the sand stripping wind, so we didn't admire it too often.

On the way home they were begging me to get out the Christmas Carols CD
Once home, where it had hardly been windy at all, I finished off the fruit mince and we found ourselves debating whether it would be too soon to make a batch of mince pies tomorrow. We really ought to leave it for at least a week in the fridge, enough time to soak up all the spice and develop the flavour, but greed and anticipation of my sister-in-law's wonderful pastry was leading us astray.
It was only later when I thought about it, that I realised the irony - sensibly confining Christmas carols to December, but considering baking mince pies already in November. Greed overrules good sense every time!
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