CHESTNUTS roasting by an open fire. Frosty the Snowman. (Hope they’re not his, fnar fnar) (Sorry!) Rockin’ around the Christmas tree. The Corn Flake ad on television. The Penneys Christmas tune.
Those are some of my favourite songs at Christmas. I also love the family block of Viennetta ice-cream. But it has to be the original one. None of your fancy minty or coffee flavoured versions, thanking you. Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Again it must be the original. Goodnight Mr. Tom.
I could go on and on with this favourites theme but I have another one in mind. The science whizz that is Naomi over at Dr. How's Science Wows is currently hosting Christmas Memories (A seasonal linky) and I am delighted to add my own memories to the mix.
I remember feeling sick with excitement during the weeks before Christmas. I could never understand how my mother was able to stand it! How was she so calm, almost serene. But of course she wasn’t; she was as frantic as I was just in a different way.
I remember taking a large, dirty branch from outside, sticking it into a flower pot filled with stones to make a Christmas tree for my bedroom.
I remember an old man from the yard in the hardware shop telling me and my sisters, on Christmas Eve, that Santa had crashed and his sleigh had been found in bits around the corner. Christmas had been cancelled. The next few moments were a blur. I think shock and fright had set in.
I remember the house being filled with people on Christmas day. From about 11am onwards, after mass, people would arrive. Usually one by one to have a Christmas drink with my parents. This was a cup of tea as we weren’t a drinking family. Then other relatives would arrive in the afternoon and stay for hours. Giving us extra toys to play with.
I remember wishing fervently for snow.
I remember going to bed at 6pm on Christmas Eve – sick with the aforementioned excitement – and not being able to sleep for ages.
I remember waking up at an ungodly hour. I’d bet this year’s turkey my mother had been in bed for about 63 minutes but she still got up with us to see if santy had been. I remember how she cleverly
coaxed us all back into our beds by getting us to agree we were delighted with
our hauls and yes, we were a bit tired. The
comedown, see. My mammy rocks!
I remember my younger sisters having a game of hide and seek and finding the “santy’s” during it.
I remember hobbling about on crutches one year, unable to get comfortable and living in sweaty fear of someone bumping off me. I had a broken knee, the result of an accident that took place on December 6th, my mother’s birthday and two days before mine.
I remember the pub on Christmas Eve. It was like a massive class reunion with everyone home for the holidays.
I remember being 8 months pregnant 9 Christmases ago and swearing never again. For the next three Christmases I was either pregnant and/or breastfeeding.
Now that I’ve got four children of my own I hope they will have their own fond memories of the festive season. I asked the boy who will be 7 on New Year’s Day what does he like best about Christmas. He wasn’t allowed say toys!
I wanted to see if he had any memories of Christmas yet. His answer was, “the dinner, the decorations and the Christmas tree.” He stuck in a sneaky “treats!” though!
See? Memories can start at any age.