Sadly, my parents have
gone now my Dad when I was only twenty one and my Mum 15 years later but they live
on in my memories especially at Christmas.
I know that for many,
Christmas is a nightmare time of year but for me I only have the very best
memories of it and many of them.
My dad always said
after he’d finished decorating the living room, the odour of emulsion still
noticeable “there will be no drawing pins in this ceiling come Christmas”. Of
course, come December the ceiling was covered with garlands, bells, stars, foil
drops with baubles at the end, balloons, snow men, angels and Santa’s.
Picture were removed
and replaced with something more festive, like huge stars or fresh holly and
Strings were strung along the walls for the cards to hang on them.
In one corner on a
table stood Santa Claus with his cotton wool beard and red crepe paper suit all
the more exciting as we children knew he was stuffed full of sweets.
In another corner
stood the tree, a tree of epic proportions so tall that the top 14 inches has
to cut off in order to get the fairy on. Every branch was full to breaking
point with countless baubles, parcels, bells, crackers and tinsels of every
colour and beneath it the ever-growing pile of presents.
With the decorations
being my Dad’s field of expertise it was left to my mum to come into her own
with everything else.
She would remove the
curtains and nets and either replace them with clean or wash and return the
originals.
Everything would get
the spring clean treatment the sideboard would be adorned with the best linen
runner and all the tables would have their own festive doily.
The fruit bowl was
filled to overflowing with bananas, Satsuma’s or tangerines and another one of
Brazil nuts, almonds, hazel nuts and walnuts.
There was even a
Chamber pot decorated with sprigs of holly on the sideboard full of Christmas
fare. Smaller bowls would appear over the Christmas period containing peanuts
or dates or sugared almonds or chocolate raisins.
Come the day itself presents
were placed by the chair that the recipients were sitting in, when we were
younger obviously our presents mysteriously arrived at the foot of the bed in a
pillowcase left for the purpose but as we got older, we joined the adults for
present opening.
Mums’ gifts were
always piled so high she always had to sit on the sofa in order to fit all her
presents on the seat next to her.
She always still had
half of them left to open long after the rest of us had finished.
This was the time for
us younger family members to examine our gifts more closely while my dad would
sit smiling sagely in his chair puffing on his pipe.
