When I was a kid I used to have a mass of relatives living around me in varying stages of life and infirmity. Arthritis was a common one and the sight of my Grand Mother Lotti continually wringing her hands and Granddad Bill groaning as he stood up were so normal as to need no comment. Now I have both and there is no one to comment to as I groan my way around the house until yesterday. Yesterday was the day I was going to get up and write a sermon I have to give to the local church. I got up at six of the morning, groaned my way to the door and promptly fell arse over tit down stairs. Ooooooo Ouch it didnt half hurt and only the dog to lick my face bless him. But here is the funny thing.. My back is a bit....a bit......better today.. Could this be a new way of treatment.. "Good morning doctor I have arthritis in my spine" Doctor: "Realy.... well please fall out the window its only two floors and should be just the very thing to relieve your symptoms". However, I would suppose it is not a precise treatment and depends if you can fall on the right area.
Christmas is coming and once upon a time I would have been over the moon and packing my bags at the thought of that run home to see a loved one. As a kid Christmas meant packing the car and treking from Germany in a car one would only go to a classic car meeting in today. Mother would make a thousand cheese and tomato sandwiches, fill every flask with tomato soup.. Dad would check over the car and we would all wrap up in individual tartan rugs. Mileage would be calculated at the consumption rate of approx one humbug per ten miles and the heater usually managed to just steam up the windows. The windscreen wipers on one car (A Morris Oxford) had a habit of running slower the faster we were going!!!??
We would usually then all get sick on the ferry from the Hook to Harwich and then feeling bloody awful have to navigate the A12, North Circular and the A1 on up to Nottingham. How we did it that hard winter of 1963 I will never know. It took us days and on more than one occasion we nearly ran out of tomato soup.
As one grows the meaning of Christmas changes and when your courting and away in the Forces you miss your family and loved one a lot on the day. I nearly always had to work Christmas day in the Police or Forces and my wife at the time Rita got used to it. She was a nurse when we met and so she also worked Christmas if I was in Ireland or somewhere else. One year I remember I was pulling Orderly NCO at a very small airfield in Oxfordshire and I walking around cheesed off when the alarm on the gate went off and there was my Mrs with the Christmas dinner and all dressed up as a Christmas dwarf. We sat alone in the guard room eating our dinner and it was the kindest thing I can ever remember.. Bless. Then the Orderly Officer turned up and I thought we were in the dog house. But, bless him he was "old Skool" and the three of us sat down and polished off the port. Now I think of it, I think that was probably one of the nicest Christmas days I can remember.
With kids Christmas reaches another level and all I will say is that having a wee bundle of fun jumping up and down on your bed at 5 in the morning, a dog running around tearing up the wrapping paper and the most lovely decorated house you ever saw is only improved by the sound of your Mrs singing in the kitchen and the smell of Roastie Crimbo din din. Ill say this to. My ex could and probably still does the most lovely Christmas din din and can turn a house into Santas Grotto.
This Christmas its just me and old Boo Dog again and we will do our best to be festive on Christmas day and I think we will remember those far less advantaged than ourselves. The refugees fleeing war, those left who cannot flee, the Veterans homeless who still re-live the wars that damaged them and the thousands of families who have lost their homes and live in temporary accommodation and of course the millions of people in the world with no family and who live alone.
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