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Simply summer

A tradition for every taste

When I think of December, I think of Piekenierskloof Pass on the way to Citrusdal. It means we’re almost there – at my family’s farm.

Every year, a few weeks before Christmas, our family has the same conversation: What’s the weather forecast for Citrusdal? Anything hotter than 42°C and we reluctantly have to make a Plan B for the holidays.

Nothing beats a Citrusdal Christmas: the harsh glare of the sun on the rows of orange and naartjie trees, their leaves almost unnaturally green, and the carpets of drying peaches and apricots dotting the landscape.

My mom has two brothers and three sisters, and all the families gather here for the holidays.

The farm belongs to my uncles, but there’s a house built specifically for the extended family, with enough space for everyone.

When we arrive, there will already be family members on the stoep to greet us, wine or sangria in hand. A mob of yelling children will run past to clamber up the koppie behind the house, one exhausted parent trotting behind to keep an eye on the youngest.

A few of us are roped into putting up Christmas decorations. Although a traditional Christmas tree will appear eventually, for now we’re decorating a massive tree branch in a jar. The “Christmas Branch” never moves. The decorations might be taken off (if someone remembers to do this), but the branch stays put, just where it is. Until next year.

On Christmas Day, an exuberant chaos breaks out. Children duck around the legs of adults with their new presents in hand. Masses of food – far too many dishes – is being prepared in the crowded kitchen. Traditional things like chicken pie and leg of lamb will end up on the same plate as baked aubergine or even spanakopita. Everyone just prepares what they want, and everyone enjoys cooking.

After the meal, we fill up a plastic swimming pool with water and take turns to float awkwardly with our feet dangling over the edge, fynbos tickling our toes as the smell of baked pudding fills the air.

When my dad has finished his extended afternoon nap, he’ll settle on the stoep with his guitar, ready to take requests until late. “Silent Night” one moment, “Hotel California” the next.

This hotchpotch of Christmas traditions is as varied as the personalities that make up my family. And there’s always one extra person in the family tree who might stop by to see what’s happening on the farm and shake things up even more.

But that’s also a gift, isn’t it?

– Marcelle van Niekerk

The practicalities of an impractical pool

The swimming pool at Folly Hill,

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