The Whole Hogge With Jacqueline Hogge

CHRISTMAS is first and foremost a time for children, but hot on the heels of little people, it's a time for families to get together for some quality time to reflect on the true meaning of this time of year. The challenge of spending time with your loved ones, and remaining on good terms, can be the trickiest part of negotiating the season of good will to all men. Not that there's anything other than yuletide cheer and much merriment to be had in the Hogge household you understand. That may have something to do with the fact it's been well over a decade since the five Hoggettes have gathered under the Christmas tree at the one time.[private] Marriage, motherhood and the fact we are dispersed on either side of the Irish Sea have meant that if we manage to meet up biannually, we're doing very well. This year we've done better than usual, surviving a weekend break earlier in the year to acknowledge significant birthdays for both Mammy and Daddy H, and now that we're within spitting distance of December 25, all five daughters will have spent some time in the homestead in the run up to Christmas day. The two London exiles made it into town in recent weeks, which afforded me the guilty pleasure of dining out on two separate occasions. The delight of having a culinary masterpiece served up to me is not to be underestimated as my own kitchen skills have been surrendered in lieu of needing to establish a roaring fire when I get in from work on these cold, damp nights. Golden girl descended with her northern troops at the weekend, hot on the heels of second born who arrived home on a surprise visit the weekend previous, while the youngest siblings will celebrate Christmas in the bosom of their family. Three out of five daughters seated around the dinner table isn't a bad haul and even though my plus one and two will require the emergency chairs being drafted in, it's a dining experience I always look forward to. No one cooks the traditional fare quite like Mammy H and while she refuses to relent on the Christmas pudding for dessert, despite the fact none of her daughters like the stodgy dried fruit fest, we indulge her by dousing it in brandy, turning off the lights and setting fire to it. Whoever dreamt up that particular tradition had obviously been left in the presence of said bottle of brandy for too long. The big bonus of being a parent at this time of year however is getting swept up in the excitement and anticipation leading up to Christmas Day. Such excitement can and often does reach fever pitch levels and the job of getting the terrible two to bed on Christmas Eve can be a very prolonged affair. Lady Muck virtually sticks pins in her eyes to stay awake in a bid to hear the reindeer touch down in the back garden. Given that the same child managed to survive the first two and a half years of her little life without a full night's sleep, she is somewhat accomplished in this regard. Strategic texts received from aunties in the north and across the water, detailing the sleep status of cousins and expected arrival times of Mr Claus himself, are used in a vain attempt to get her to give up the ghost. Which she does, normally on the stroke of midnight and it is then, and only then that Santa's little helper can distribute gifts under the tree. This has proven problematic in the past as a ride-on tractor required intricate assembly a few years back. I neither have the tools nor the patience for such a task, certainly not at that hour. Suffice to say Boy Wonder has never questioned why his tractor doesn't have a trailer. It does, but it remains in pieces in a box in the attic, as his mother gave up the ghost at 2am that particular year and headed to bed. This year, I have had the sense to enlist the services of someone with a mechanical mind, and the foresight to ensure all gifts will be in working, assembled order well in advance of Christmas Eve. The rest of us have to wait until later in the morning to discover what we've been gifted by friends and family. Exchanging presents before dinner has always been the ritual, mainly because none of us has the patience to wait until all four courses has been consumed to discover what treats we have been given. Then all that is left to decide is who will draw the short straw and have to tidy up after dinner, a process that can offer a welcome deviation from having to sit through Darby O'Gill or whatever blockbuster film RTE is showing as its Christmas cracker. The decision to boycott board games was a hard one to make, but has led to a more peaceful atmosphere prevailing come Christmas night. Previous experience has shown that Trivial Pursuit is anything but when sisters are playing, while the word game Articulate has been known to reduce participants to tears, such was the incandescent rage shown by team members when one offered up the wrong answer. The secret of a quiet and peaceful Christmas, in our house at least, is the fact that it is the only time of the year we get to spend time together as a family. Yes the odd birthday bash may have been the exception this year, but as a rule, the secret ingredient to maintaining close relationships is distance, pure and simple. The geographic spread of sisters and siblings indeed should be a lesson to all, as while I adore them all equally I know the reason I'll appreciate them this Christmas is the fact once it's over, I won't get to relive the magic for another 12 months. * * * BETTER late than never, it seems our local TD has found his backbone, not to mention his Latin phrasebook over the past week. Credit where it's due, as it can't have been an easy decision to make, but then doing the right thing often isn't.[/private]