Well, there it is. It’s over. For most people anyway. There are people who haven’t yet had their Christmas Day for various reasons but, for the majority it’s done. Weeks of sweating over whether deliveries will arrive in time, hours of wrapping, the hand cramp from writing hundreds of cards, it’s over. You can now relax in your new pants and socks because the main day has gone by.
My Christmas Day was fairly quiet, as it has been for a few years now. Years ago the entire family would get together. Usually at nana’s. It was always a blast. It was a proper Christmas Dinner around the pasting table with people sitting on whatever they could find. The four foot auntie sitting higher that anyone else at the table because she had got the bar stool. That sort of thing. There was always someone who were just a pair of hands reaching up to the table with a knife and fork and hoping for the best because they got the footstool. That’s what happened. I was pleased to look out the window on Christmas Day and see a bloke walking along the main road with three folding chairs. That’s what’s happened forever.
Anyway, times change. Myself, my sister and the cousins all grew up and moved on. Moved away. It’s natural in families sometimes. You can’t expect everyone to continue to live within a stones throw of each other. People move on.
So, Christmas became myself, my sister, the parents and whichever dog (currently Marly but was Glen and Reb before) around at the manor. It’s been nice. After years of parties, a quieter Christmas was really appreciated and that’s how it’s been for a few years, unless I was working, then we either did Christmas Eve or Boxing Day.
Anyway, what we do now is we gather at the manor, we open presents and then we eat. Then we all fight sleep. It’s understandable. Our parents are nearing seventy, I’m forty and my sister is hovering about in her mid-thirties. My sister also has a cat, therefore – responsibilities. She has to get home at a decent time or get her eyes scratched out.
After my sister left, well, we dropped her off. Dad, he hadn’t had a drink yet, so he said he’d drive her home, I went along for the ride. I’m in the passenger seat, dad’s driving and sister is in the back seat. Two seconds into the journey and the car door light comes on and the alarm sounds. Dad says it’s sister. We pull in. She opens and slams her door shut. We move on. The light and alarm goes again. My fault this time. We pull in. I open and slam shut the door. We move on. It goes off again. My sister and I look at my dad. He pulls in. He opens and shuts his door. We move on. The alarm doesn’t come back on… Aye dad…
Back at the manor, me dad, me mum, oor Marly and I all settle down. There’s been a Carry On day on ITV3 and we tune in. That’s basically what we do. Mum nods off, knackered. Then she wakens and then, out of nowhere, she’s got a second wind and is off on a rant about politics.
Dad has a wee snooze as well. The only person who doesn’t manage to doze off is me, even though I’m feeling like I’m coming down with the ‘flu. Why have I not dozed off? Because I have the TV remote.
Right, so wherever I’ve wandered off to with this post, I’ll try and bring it back. I’ve got the TV remote and to doze off might mean someone else will half-inch it. Like Jimmy the Ghost.
Anyway, the whole thing is over. The weeks of planning and panicking, it’s all done. And for what? Nothing. Mother has bought me the Hibs calendar as she annually does, this year she can’t find it though. She’s bought it, she’s taken it home and she’s lost it. Not sure how, mines is not to question why. Though she has until Monday to find it. It’s in the manor somewhere. How you lose a calendar is beyond me though. I mean, come on mother, liven it up a bit!
I have trained me mum to cover up Hearts calendars with Hibs ones while she’s at the Gyle and in town. I’m sure WH Smith at the Gyle look for us coming every year. They’ll just rearrange them after I’ve hidden all the Hearts calendars and then along comes my mum ha ha ha.
So, what next. Hogmanay, New Years Eve, whatever you call it. It’ll be a quiet one for me. I might even watch Only An Excuse? as they are doing Michael Stewart and Steven Thompson. That may be a laugh…
I always stay up the bells though and remember the years I spent in the town for the fireworks or at a party somewhere, then I think how glad I am that I have those memories but, a quiet one will do for me.
Enjoy it, whatever you end up doing.