I have a fondness for Australia and having been there these past three years I look forward to returning. But today I was reading a poem written in Australia (if not Australian - for we are divided by a common language). But its curious because it is about a household - and one, I am assuming, where the writer is the parent and the teenagers are the others in the narrative, because its called, 'The people who live at the wrong end of the day'. But then it opens up to other possibilities and sometimes when I get emails from Australia it feels exactly like that, from people who live at the wrong end of the day; and they are twelve hours ahead which means if it is 12.15 here it is 0.15 there and so it is HappyChristmas to the Australasians, where you will be drinking chilled white wine in the sun (as I did the last time I was there - see picture above, taken at the Gold Coast) - take it away Tim Minchin, 'I really like Christmas...'
