Excuse my decidely incongruent inuendo laden Christmas headline, but I had to throw St Nicholas in there somehow.
Even a post about Christmas needs a hook, even if it’s one Sid James would be proud of π
Merry Chrimbo!
It would have been remiss of me to not to take this opportunity to wish all readers of this blog a very happy Christmas and clink a well-filled-glass in this direction.
I hope you saw Santa and Rudolph over the rooftops in the early hours this morning.
When I was a kid, my sister and I used to look out of the window for the renowned airborne duo when we should have been sleeping. Nobody cared about the other reindeers, it was Rudolph everyone wanted a Kodak camera selfie with. Whilst we were waiting, we warmed ourselves by the radiator. I know that sounds very Dickensian, but that’s how it was back then with single glazing and too much month at the end of the money.
My sister was so convinced she’d seen the reindeers one Christmas morning, that I ended up being sold on it too. I stared out of the window even harder, trying to conjure up a distant silhouette of something magical flying through the air.
That’s the power of belief eh π She also said she could see a footprint by Rudolph on the carpet in the bedroom… and who was I to argue.
Every year we tried to stay awake for Santa so we could catch him in the act of benevolence, but somehow we always managed to just miss him.
Back then I had so many relatives sending presents, we had a HUGE pillow sack full of them. It was usually things like socks and colouring books, but it made that pillow bulge at the seams. Imagination took over until they were opened.
I always used to hope for the chocolate selection boxes because that’s all kids really want isn’t it?
Candy delight, I mean. The tooth fairy comes later.
I didn’t know who half of these people were, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how Santa was so organised at collecting presents from people that seemed to know who I was.
I’ll level with you and do a bit of adulting (don’t worry it’s a temporary affliction)…
These days I don’t really like the build up to Christmas, weeks in advance. Pretty decorations aside, there’s only so many times you can listen to the enthusiasm of Slade on the radio. The day itself and Xmas Eve is what it’s all about for me.
I also like some of the films and the good news is most of them don’t get on my Christmas tits (I manifested them, in case you were wondering. You can look but you can’t touch)…
“It’s A Wonderful Life” always comes on at some point and I still find it hard to resist, even if I have seen it many times before. Do you remember years ago,in some small shops, a bell would sweetly ring on the way in. If you’re watching a black and white film that is guaranteed to happen.
The customer would always know the name of the shopkeeper and vice versa. Even if it was all audience fodder, it made you feel like everyone knew each other.
“Good morning Mrs Jones, just the one freshly baked loaf today is it?“.
“I’ll have a few potatoes as well and some suet pudding for Archie. Merry Christmas.”
Then they’d skip off down the road while the snow was falling and everyone was grinning their face off because Jesus decided to make an appearance in a stable. Apparently he was quite happy where he was, until he heard that three wise men were on their way with a shit ton of valuable merchandise (camels not included).
I remember one year I wasn’t ‘feeling it’ until I watched Scrooge (true story) and this unexpectedly gave me a swift kick in the knackers about being somewhat dismissive of it.Β I didn’t go knocking on doors giving people free turkeys or anything after the credits rolled though.
Steady on, this is England after all.
I digress….
Whatever you happen to be doing, I hope you have a lovely time and that all your Xmas dreams come true.
That’s my Christmas speech over. Time for another glass of something while I’m eyeing up the roast potatoes.
If it does happen to be snowing heavily today, I’ll race you on the sled.
First one to the bottom gets the drinks in.
We may all be dreaming of a White Christmas (just like the ones we used to know), but I’m not going to play this one out with Bing Crosby. What do you think this is? Last of the Summer Wine? π
Whatever do we play Christmas Day out with then as you know it’s now tradition for me to do this.
I’m going to go with Stay Another Day by East 17 (anything that doesn’t have Gary Barlow in it, that’s what I say)…