Merry Christmas! :)

[Padraig]

And a very happy Christmas to you all from me. Your companionship is much appreciated!

F

Thank you flay, and all ye who expressed good wishes for Christmas.

If you will indulge me I shall regale you with a few thoughts that I hope will add to this particular festive occasion. This morning I switched on the Christmas tree lights to enchant early-about neighbours. This made me feel so good that I considered opening a good bottle of port saved for a Christmas occasion. Luckily I resisted the temptation with great difficulty as one should definitely not start any alcoholic-related proceedings before 7 am: of course, I had other fish to fry, and fry them I did!

As is our wont we have Christmas morning breakfast in our house - this a long standing ' tradition' which now, after a long apprenticeship, excuses us from any further participation in the culinary festivities. After smoked-salmon scrambled eggs, with a secret recipe for garnish - No! I will not reveal the secret - champagne, and orange juice for the minors to their obvious disbelief, we then repair to the in-laws. This year the revered mother passed away in the summer and initially there were tears - sunt lacrimae rerum - half a century of loving habit is not to be easily swatted away.

The company was good, the young grand nephews and nieces were older and more charming, and the drink was not slow or lacking. Different chefs were now in charge, and I sincerely hope that
Christmas dinner is secure in new hands.

The one regret I have is that with the inevitable changes to families, the ages of children, the distances and changes of residence we no longer end up chez nous on Christmas night with singing, laughing, drinking and general idiocy. But I remember many moments of that gone time, and I hope that you, whoever is reading this, can identify with some of the sentiments I am trying to express, and that you will have your own fond memories of Christmas which come back to comfort you.

Meanwhile, I seem to have found a reason to open that bottle of port. So, I won't delay you further - I'm sure you have better things to do than read the jottings of a sentimental old Christmas
fan.

PS I wish people would not refer to 'the wife'. It's so common.

[Dave2002]

... violating an Internet and computer ban .....

Happy Christmas to all!

[johncorrigan]

F

Thank you flay, and all ye who expressed good wishes for Christmas.

If you will indulge me I shall regale you with a few thoughts that I hope will add to this particular festive occasion. This morning I switched on the Christmas tree lights to enchant early-about neighbours. This made me feel so good that I considered opening a good bottle of port saved for a Christmas occasion. Luckily I resisted the temptation with great difficulty as one should definitely not start any alcoholic-related proceedings before 7 am: of course, I had other fish to fry, and fry them I did!

As is our wont we have Christmas morning breakfast in our house - this a long standing ' tradition' which now, after a long apprenticeship, excuses us from any further participation in the culinary festivities. After smoked-salmon scrambled eggs, with a secret recipe for garnish - No! I will not reveal the secret - champagne, and orange juice for the minors to their obvious disbelief, we then repair to the in-laws. This year the revered mother passed away in the summer and initially there were tears - sunt lacrimae rerum - half a century of loving habit is not to be easily swatted away.

The company was good, the young grand nephews and nieces were older and more charming, and the drink was not slow or lacking. Different chefs were now in charge, and I sincerely hope that
Christmas dinner is secure in new hands.

The one regret I have is that with the inevitable changes to families, the ages of children, the distances and changes of residence we no longer end up chez nous on Christmas night with singing, laughing, drinking and general idiocy. But I remember many moments of that gone time, and I hope that you, whoever is reading this, can identify with some of the sentiments I am trying to express, and that you will have your own fond memories of Christmas which come back to comfort you.

Meanwhile, I seem to have found a reason to open that bottle of port. So, I won't delay you further - I'm sure you have better things to do than read the jottings of a sentimental old Christmas
fan.

PS I wish people would not refer to 'the wife'. It's so common.

No need for excuses...great to hear about your day...we're heading for the in-laws tonight in Alyth for quizzes, songs and perhaps a wee play from the young ones...our young ones are a bit beyond that. A very Happy Christmas to you Padraig...keep being a fan.

[antongould]

F

Thank you flay, and all ye who expressed good wishes for Christmas.

If you will indulge me I shall regale you with a few thoughts that I hope will add to this particular festive occasion. This morning I switched on the Christmas tree lights to enchant early-about neighbours. This made me feel so good that I considered opening a good bottle of port saved for a Christmas occasion. Luckily I resisted the temptation with great difficulty as one should definitely not start any alcoholic-related proceedings before 7 am: of course, I had other fish to fry, and fry them I did!

As is our wont we have Christmas morning breakfast in our house - this a long standing ' tradition' which now, after a long apprenticeship, excuses us from any further participation in the culinary festivities. After smoked-salmon scrambled eggs, with a secret recipe for garnish - No! I will not reveal the secret - champagne, and orange juice for the minors to their obvious disbelief, we then repair to the in-laws. This year the revered mother passed away in the summer and initially there were tears - sunt lacrimae rerum - half a century of loving habit is not to be easily swatted away.

The company was good, the young grand nephews and nieces were older and more charming, and the drink was not slow or lacking. Different chefs were now in charge, and I sincerely hope that
Christmas dinner is secure in new hands.

The one regret I have is that with the inevitable changes to families, the ages of children, the distances and changes of residence we no longer end up chez nous on Christmas night with singing, laughing, drinking and general idiocy. But I remember many moments of that gone time, and I hope that you, whoever is reading this, can identify with some of the sentiments I am trying to express, and that you will have your own fond memories of Christmas which come back to comfort you.

Meanwhile, I seem to have found a reason to open that bottle of port. So, I won't delay you further - I'm sure you have better things to do than read the jottings of a sentimental old Christmas
fan.

PS I wish people would not refer to 'the wife'. It's so common.

Wonderful stuff padraig ...... It did stir many, many happy memories .... if I referred to Lady Gould as the wife it would be my last Christmas ....but I don't like it either .....

[bluestateprommer]

Further Season's Greetings (*), to add to richardfinegold's best wishes, from this side of the pond to all for3-ers in the UK.

(*) Or "Season's Greeblings", for those who remember their Peter Cook and Dudley Moore.

[gradus]

I forgot to get a card but best wishes to fellow boarders for Christmas and 2017.

[BBMmk2]

Thank you for that, Padraig! I can't do without Christmas lunch!

[Padraig]

Epiphany

The crib occupied the whole of the telephone table in the hall, its second home in some forty years. The little figures had suffered during most of that time; the Infant Jesus in particular had been lost, hidden away, sucked and chewed by teething toddlers. Yet, by January 7 each year all fifteen characters were packed carefully for another outing in December.

This year the crib sat undisturbed over the Christmas period: the Three Kings with their camel and its attendant approached steadily from the east; two shepherds bearing lambs, and a pair of musicians adored at a distance; within the stable the ox and the ass were on their knees while Joseph guarded Mary who admired her baby in the makeshift cradle. They all had earned their freedom from mishandling and rearranging, and the current cohort of juveniles had just about crossed the line of resignation to the prevailing adult lore of the house. Or so it seemed.

On New Year's Night that cohort - five grandchildren between four and seven years of age - was making the final round of visits and farewells. All were in hilarious mood, and a real live pup added to the general rowdiness. Pandemonium reigned for an hour or so until the signal for leaving was mysteriously conveyed. In a flurry of finding shoes and coats and bestowing hugs and farewell kisses they made their way to the front door, having to pass the telephone table in the hall with the long-suffering cast of the crib waiting.

As I was replacing the figures once again this morning, all present, all in their assigned positions, I recalled the last time I had noticed them on New Year's Night. Then they were the centre of attention by my group of rascals who had stopped.... to sing. I can but guess who started it, but they sang with a concentration and a sincerity which would have made any unprejudiced observer proud. They sang Away in a Manger, just one verse, and by the time that I, incredulous, had rushed out to join them they were already out the door. I could hear them still singing as they made their way up the road, seeking another family on which to wreak their angelic havoc.

[Serial_Apologist]

Epiphany

The crib occupied the whole of the telephone table in the hall, its second home in some forty years. The little figures had suffered during most of that time; the Infant Jesus in particular had been lost, hidden away, sucked and chewed by teething toddlers. Yet, by January 7 each year all fifteen characters were packed carefully for another outing in December.

This year the crib sat undisturbed over the Christmas period: the Three Kings with their camel and its attendant approached steadily from the east; two shepherds bearing lambs, and a pair of musicians adored at a distance; within the stable the ox and the ass were on their knees while Joseph guarded Mary who admired her baby in the makeshift cradle. They all had earned their freedom from mishandling and rearranging, and the current cohort of juveniles had just about crossed the line of resignation to the prevailing adult lore of the house. Or so it seemed.

On New Year's Night that cohort - five grandchildren between four and seven years of age - was making the final round of visits and farewells. All were in hilarious mood, and a real live pup added to the general rowdiness. Pandemonium reigned for an hour or so until the signal for leaving was mysteriously conveyed. In a flurry of finding shoes and coats and bestowing hugs and farewell kisses they made their way to the front door, having to pass the telephone table in the hall with the long-suffering cast of the crib waiting.

As I was replacing the figures once again this morning, all present, all in their assigned positions, I recalled the last time I had noticed them on New Year's Night. Then they were the centre of attention by my group of rascals who had stopped.... to sing. I can but guess who started it, but they sang with a concentration and a sincerity which would have made any unprejudiced observer proud. They sang Away in a Manger, just one verse, and by the time that I, incredulous, had rushed out to join them they were already out the door. I could hear them still singing as they made their way up the road, seeking another family on which to wreak their angelic havoc.

Presumably they must have been prêt à manger then.

[oddoneout]

What a lovely memory to put with all the others gathered over the years.
I confess that crib scenes arouse a certain sense of unease in me due to childhood experiences of my mother's dislike of the Magi appearing in them before Epiphany.She was a lovely, and largely tolerant, person but matters theological and ecclesiastical didn't always bring out the best in her. Memories of looking at such set-ups with the soundtrack of her disapproval much in evidence still have some influence in that the only such model I ever put out is a tiny glass one that has just the Holy Family trio. Now in my seventh decade I should perhaps have 'got over myself' but the effects of tensions in my family caused by religion have proved difficult to eradicate completely.