Lew and Jan Pretorius knew how to live, give and love.

I first met Lew for a story around 2008.

He was collecting bras to take to Fiji.

His hands waved in all directions as he explained his need for bras ... preferably big bras.

Through his humanitarian work with Rotary, he'd been made aware of the significant and painful extremes of heat rash and chafing among Fijian women.

It made sense, he said. The hot, humid weather. Their generally large breasts. They get dreadful chafing and rashes and even chest ulcers, he said.

"That's why I need bras!"

Urged on by Lew's determination, energy and efficiency, Launceston women donated a shipping container of bras to the women of Fiji.

Some years later I came across a perfectly intact church organ. I called Lew.

Could the Fijians use an organ?

Of course! Into another container went the organ. Within weeks Lew sent pictures of the organ being carried down a leafy, dirt track to its new home, a church.

In 2019, the planet lost its battle to keep Lew.

He lasted a year without Jan. On August 10 he was gone. Jan, his all-wisdom and big loving wife had passed away on August 12, 2018.

This week, their family took the couple's ashes to their place ... The Gardens ... and out in the bright green blue off Tasmania's East Coast, in wetsuits, with smiles, the Pretorius family stood neck deep and set the ashes free.

Overheard on Collins St, midday, December 28.

Boy about age 11 to man in a straw hat, bearded hipster 40-something 'dude'.

"Mum told me you used to date men."

"Huh?"

"You realise you could be married to a man right now instead of mum?

"I suppose you're 40 years into it."

The man looked perplexed. Mum stepped up her pace. The (cheeky) boy? All smiles.

Man about 50, boat shoes, white hat, navy shorts ... 11am, Saturday, Salamanca Market and Taste of Tasmania 'crush', on his mobile phone:

"It's me.

"I know you haven't heard from me for a while.

"I just thought I'd check-in and make sure you're alright

"The kids have even been asking about you.

"As long as everything's okay.

"Good.

"Bye."

How bad is the new Tourism Australia campaign to promote us to the Brits?

It's whiter than Omo, or ScOmo?

The ad is headlined by Kylie Minogue and filled with crowds of overwhelmingly thin, white people.

Even the fans at the cricket were white. What about Australia's famously boisterous, cricket-loving Indian and Pakistani fans?

Perhaps some subtle racism? Is there subtle racism?

Our Australia is a shared table, particularly at Christmas.

On Christmas Day, we were among 32 people of all abilities and ethnicities from Chile, Canada and Taiwan.

We all drank too much, ate too much, laughed a lot and each did our part clearing and cleaning at day's end.

The food was pure Northern Hemisphere - turkey, ham, salmon, chocolate mousse, plum pudding, brandy butter, a tradition many Aussies seem to enjoy.

I envy my stepsister's Muslim Lebanese Christmas lunch which she calls a "Lebbo" Christmas ... no alcohol, tabouli, (raw lamb) kibbeh nayyah and a festival of sugar syrup pastries.