I’m writing this on the last Friday in November, which means at the end of next week we’ll be welcoming in December. Of course, for weeks we’ve been aware that the festive season is just around the corner. TV advertisements and some shops already sporting decorations. Our local Christmas Market opened yesterday (23rd) and will be open until mid-December, bringing shoppers into the city. This year, as I worked on my gift list for friends and relatives, the thought of past Christmases conjured up some memories
Santa Claus
One of my strongest childhood memories was meeting Santa Claus. I must have been about six when one of the girls in my class told us how she’d not only met him, but had actually spoken to him. Of course, once I’d heard that I knew I’d have to meet him too. There were questions that needed answering. Like how did he get around the whole of the world delivering presents in one night? And how did his sleigh work when we rarely had snow before Christmas? Then there was also the question of negotiating our chimney. All the drawings of him were of a large, tubby man. Surely he would get stuck. On Christmas Eve I snuggled down under the blankets to wait for him, excited and apprehensive, with all these questions lined up in my head. When I heard the door to my bedroom creak open, I was about to sit up and face him when I heard familiar voices whispering, followed by the rustle of presents being left at the foot of the bed. The door closed and I lay there. All my questions had been answered, but sadly not by him. Was I disappointed? It’s so long ago, I can’t remember. I know didn’t tell anyone about my discovery. They would find out soon enough for themselves.
Carol Singing
As a member of the Sunday School, I would join the rest of the children as we were packed into two cars and driven from one end of the village to the other to entertain the locals with festive songs. Not sure we were appreciated everywhere though – I remember at least one house where the lights went out as soon as we began singing!
Nearer Christmas, the church held a carol service where each child added a figure to the nativity display. The church was decorated with holly and lit by candle light, very atmospheric and a great childhood memory that comes back to me every year.
The Christmas Bird
My grandfather kept chicken and ducks, together with a few geese which he fattened up for Christmas. For most of my childhood, it meant goose was the bird of choice within the family. I recall my grandmother used to save goose grease in a tub – a hand me down remedy for colds and chest infections when mixed with honey. Rubbed on the chest and back, then covered with brown paper – doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?
Christmas Tree
During my early childhood, the era of the artificial tree had yet to arrive. Instead we bought the real thing, usually off the local farmer. Unlike today, they came with roots, and if small enough, could be planted in the garden and reused for several Christmases to come.
And finally, One of Santa’s Little Helpers
Years later, one of my bosses thought it would be a good idea if his children had a typed reply from ‘one of Santa’s elves’ to make things a little more exciting for them. He roped me in to create a response and although I was a little sceptic, they loved it! Was this the start of my journey into writing fiction? Not quite, but a small creative moment nonetheless.
AND FINALLY, NOVEMBER READS AND REVIEWS
My favourite read was Calico. Not at all what I expected, but definitely worth five big stars from me.
Next month I’ve only three books for review which suits me fine as there’s so much going on in the run up to Christmas. I’ll catch you all after the turkey and tinsel. Have a very Happy Christmas!
Best wishes
Jo x
JO LAMBERT 