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Sunday, December 14, 2014

I love Christmas

Well , we are going to celebrate Christmas 2015 in our new home. I have no "plan" as yet  and will probably not decide until the 1st of December, or even later. There are so many options to be considered. And exactly a month today it will be the eve of the big day and all our preparations will be over.  So, i wish you all a happy and fruitful month of looking forward to Christmas. I will, of course have a little more to say before it all happens.

I love Christmas.

In two weeks the mad Christmas festivities will be slowing down . It's not that I'm not looking forward to it all but I'm also looking forward to it all being over. We have got a houseful coming and will be very busy on Christmas day itself. They are all staying for various lengths of time, so although at the height of the madness we will have twenty four we will have some days when it's only eight,ten or twelve.
We had to get a real tree. The husband wasn't happy that as we were "doing" Christmas for the last time in this house that we get out the faithful plastic version that, with a bit of imagination and helpful decoration has been perfectly adequate for the last couple of years. Anyway, the five foot Norway Spruce looks quite majestical taking up the whole corner of the room and I am, after all, rather pleased that we splashed out.
As another part of the preparation we went to get the meat yesterday. No, not a huge turkey. We did used to have turkey, mainly because they were given to us , but as no one likes turkey we have gone for other favourites. We were going to have a choice of two meats but again couldn't come to an agreement on which two so have ended up with three - lamb, pork and beef - pleasing everyone. I only hope the poor oven will cope.
This mad buzz will calm down as I say and we will just be left with memories. And that's what I want to concentrate on, making good memories, the sort that are brought out in years to come and discussed between family members, probably when we have gone to our eternal rest.
When I was small, maybe eight or nine, we had a goose sent from my grandmother in Ireland. She couldn't be with us but in a sense she was, as we ate the goose - I'd never had before or since- and talked about her and wished her well. If ever I think of geese I find myself in the cottage in Ireland, with its beams, rickety stairs and range (aga like cooker), having tea and Marie biscuits with my dear Nan. Although nearly twenty five years have passed since she died and many more since the last time I saw her I can still conjure up her odour of smoke from the fire mixed with old age and be comforted by it.

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