First of all, please let me start this blog post by wishing you — the reader of my blog — a very festive and fun-filled Christmas. We have spent ours up at the Farm, near Ripon with my Brother and his family, my sister and my folks — it has been a a good Chrimbletide. We feasted, we gifted we made merry.
It was the first time I got to meet my nephew Ben — only two weeks old, bless him. He has the lung-capacity of a three year old and a scream that can pierce an eardrum at thirty yards. I would post a photo of him up here, but I do not have mum and dad’s consent so I will stick to saying he is bouncing and healthy.
Gifts were exchanged — we had a haul; I received a CD from Kathryn and I have been given a pork-pie stand, hand-whittled by my brother. I really like it. It is not as if he works in a sheltered workshop or anything, he has more degrees than a boiling kettle, but it is a good past-time that he has, whittling.
Mum and dad got me an Office chair for my flat — I have been using an adapted rocking chair (it is a table chair with runners on) for the past few months and my back is aching — silly idea in the first place, but I just can’t get rid of stuff.
The highlight of the day was, undoubtedly, my eldest niece receiving her own copy of her “Special Book.” Sarah calls the Screwfix catalogue her “special book” and sometimes my brother has to read it to her to get her to sleep. She was over the moon when she peeled back the gloss wrapping paper to reveal the branded Screwfix catalogue. She did not want to open another present, just sat there reading the thing — it was a sight.
Christmas Dinner was Turkey with all of the trimmings. Christmas pud and an Aldi delight as a second pudding — that was okay. Beer of choice at the meal was Founders Brewing Co. All Day IPA. My favourite of the modest selection that we picked up from Morrisons on the way to the farm.
Kathryn is sat watching a few trashy programmes on the telly and the rest of the house have retired for the evening. It is a scene of rural bliss. We have had a good time catching up and we will miss the Christmases at Home Farm. This is the last Christmas that my Mum & Dad will spend here. Dad will be retiring in the coming year and having to move house. There are twenty years of memories in the pores of this house — not all good. It is good we have managed to spend some time together as a unit to look back on in our dotage.
Wow! That took a melancholic turn — I am unsure why. Maybe it is because I need my sleeps, maybe it is because I saw the baton pass to another generation to maintain festive fun — but that got dark, so I had better sign off.
Merry Christmas to all.