Warm beds, new pyjamas and a whisper of wonderful things.....creeping downstairs.
Eyes wide. Still dark. The dogs stir and yawn - a bit tired, were they disturbed during the night?
It's in my son's eyes when he sees the trail of oats and glitter across the floor. Mince pie eaten and I wink. Magic.
Door open.............................................. he's been, he's been. It's true.
Tree lights on, present unwrap. Paper flurry. Cup of coffee to help my bleary eyes open whilst the magic circulates around our cosy room. Toys. Wonderful toys. Wooden, lights, bright colours,sounds, fun games and books. Surprises and stocking fillers to make him laugh. the laugh that is worth so much. It was the RIGHT toy! Phew. Playing with the box now of course. A happy boy with new sparkly toys to help him learn and for him to enjoy. Still opening mid morning. Cooked breakfast on the go with hot buttered toast and grilled mushrooms. A feast on a day of excess where the calories do not matter.
Dressing in new jumpers, out for a walk. Lots of children on shiny new bikes and scooters. Everybody is happy and hellos are said joyfully where usually heads are down with hurried walking. The magic is out here too, I see it in the remains of a carrot on the cobbled path by the gate and cloven hoof print in the snow - this is my perfect Christmas, of course there is at least an icing sugar dusting of snow!
Faces flushed red, feeling energised, we then go to my parent's house for the Christmas of my past. Nostalgia. Foil decorations and pipe cleaner elves. The same singing Santa that comes out every year. A bowl of walnuts and plates of mince pies. As we enter the house, pans are bubbling and a steam filled room has my family on Christmas dinner duty. A military operation of nana peeling potatoes, my dad in charge of the turkey and my mum coordinating the whole thing - whisking cream whilst making cups of tea and putting crosses in the sprouts at the same time. Perfect homeliness.
We chat and watch television, all the old favourites - The Snowman and silly Christmas films. My son has round two of present opening and his grandparents are delighted to watch his face, every glint of his eye and smile when he sees yet more new toys. I am proud. I also have lots of new socks and a diary. It's much the same every year, yet so perfect and I wish that time could stop still for we are all here and the feeling I get cannot be compared to anything else.
We have a grand feast of rich, tasty food and at least two desserts - Christmas pudding and my mum's special trifle. All this food and yet I still nibble on peanuts and crisps afterwards. Back to the 1980's for a cheeky Snowball drink as we settle down by the glow of multicoloured tree lights for a little rest. Maybe a snooze, especially my nana. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! The dogs are settled too after many titbits and dream of chasing snow rabbits and stockings full of tripe chews.
Later that evening we will go back home, by the light of the cold winter's moon, listening to Christmas carols. A car crammed full of goodies, bellies full of food and a head full of more memories. I'll tuck my son up in bed and read stories and poems of fir trees, angels, Father Christmas and wishes that come true. There's magic in the air still, in fluffed pillows and cuddly teddies and as he slowly dozes off to his slumber I hope he dreams not only of his new playthings but of winters of happiness and days with family feeling loved - for that is what is perfect to me.
Merry Christmas! This post is my entry into the Tots100/Argos 12 Days of Christmas competition.
We had a stroll around Daddy Bird's childhood park. A typical Victorian park opened in 1894 with tree lined paths and a bandstand. A little quiet now compared to DB's memories. A little ghostly. He lived in adjacent flats, huge flats with hundreds of people living there. Now demolished and houses in their place. The park served as the play area for all the children in the flats of which DB was one. Child of the 70's and 80's, full days spent at the park, turning up back at home before dusk for your tea. How times change.
Running across the bowling green as a dare so the park keeper (parky) would chase you. Tee hee he. Knock a door run on the poor old man 'Jobby' that lived in one of the bottom flats and would hobble out with his stick. DB is slightly ashamed of this.
Looking for red squirrels, no chance of that now - only a few places with them in the UK. Murders happening, DB remember the body bag being taken out. How awful.
Making dens in the shrubbery and conker heaven in the autumn. The silver birch that in order to be a 'proper' lad you had to climb. Football matches between the different flats that lasted all afternoon. One of DB's friends called in for his tea every night by his mum blowing a whistle.
We strolled to the bandstand, a bit dangerous at the moment with one side of railings missing. Tut tut council. Obviously a park enjoyed by dog walkers, shame they don't all pick up. Yuk. I think I preferred DB's nostalgia. *Scrape, scrape*
November bonfires in the 80's that got out of control every year, with the fire brigade having to turn up. An out of control dog knocking the firework display over so they all fizzled to nothing.
Full of daffodils and kicking footballs at the cherry tree so the blossom fell down like ticker tape. DB's sister sneakily smoking in the park and being caught.....Tennis tournaments, bike races and playing British Bulldog.
Lots of stories of sledging down Devils Bump on cardboard boxes or carrier bags. In summer shouting up to your mum and dad when the ice cream van turned up. 10p coins being thrown down from the windows and quickly grabbing them to get your '99' ice cream. Grass fights when the grass had just been freshly mown.
A very young Daddy Bird found a 'twig' and took it home to his mum one day. A gift of a flower for her. She still has it, it grew into a shrub and is in her current garden. The tales that greenery can tell.
Daddy Bird's old school, now a private girl's school. 'Twagging it' off school by doing a bunk out of the top fence and onto the canal towpath. What a beautiful building, I would like to look around.
It was funny hearing all Daddy Bird's old memories but I don't think we will go back :( A little shabby and not much happening. I grew up opposite a park too and I'll show you that another time. Sadly it will be a similar story of a nice park becoming a bit dull or perhaps that is just nostalgia. Do places always seem better in the past? Of course they are entwined with our childhood and our fun at that time ignores the standing in dog poop or the broken bandstand. Play just carries on. Did you have a childhood park? What games and adventures did you have there?
Faces flushed red, feeling energised, we then go to my parent's house for the Christmas of my past. Nostalgia. Foil decorations and pipe cleaner elves. The same singing Santa that comes out every year. A bowl of walnuts and plates of mince pies. As we enter the house, pans are bubbling and a steam filled room has my family on Christmas dinner duty. A military operation of nana peeling potatoes, my dad in charge of the turkey and my mum coordinating the whole thing - whisking cream whilst making cups of tea and putting crosses in the sprouts at the same time. Perfect homeliness.
