The little voice in my head

It is 3 days before Christmas, the house is decorated, the tree is all sparkly with lights, baubles and my old Venetian chandelier, which I have used as drops to catch the light. Atop the tree sits Pamela, she has sat on every tree since as long as I can remember and I am 59. Pamela has new wings, but has lost an arm over the years. Yet she still sits there in charge of the tree and all that is on it.

I love that she has seen all the Christmases of my youth, the excitement of me and my brother Trevor getting up at 4 in the morning, excited to see the few gifts my parents could afford and very happy to get a pillowcase full. I used to love the felt tip pens, the pencils, the colouring in books, the plastic dolls that one year had one that could walk and talk. The three wheelers then bicycles and the stocking with tangerine, selection box, chocolate coins in their little net bags and sweet tobacco sweets.
One year a doll's house, that I loved, complete with little lights and furniture.

The night before was the one night when going to bed was anticipated all day. I would go up with my stocking, me and my Mammy singing up the wooden hill to bed my dear, then followed by Jingle Bells.  I always said my prayers, then tried to sleep because of excitement. Then up and into my parent's bedroom shouting he's been!

I remember one year when my Granny had my bedroom, I  had to share with my big brother, Trevor, he is 10 yrs older than me and I looked up to him and loved him.  I swore I could hear Santa, I swore I could hear Rudolph, he picked me up and showed me the night sky and pointed out Santa and said he could see him too. This made me rush back to bed as everyone knew if you saw Santa on his way then you might not get presents, along with the naughty boys and girls.

We would rush downstairs to find the fire still in, bathing the room with a soft glow, the smell of the fire, the tree all beautiful and twinkly and the heap of presents. It was a truly magical time, I have never, ever lost the wonderment of Christmas and I never, ever will.

All the presents are wrapped and under the tree, Pamela is still sat on top of the tree, the lights are lit, the plastic coach and horses are next to her incase she needs to fly off someplace and it looks magical. This year it is just me and my husband Paul. He too loves the magic of Christmas and we shut the doors on Christmas Eve and it is just me and he until the day after Boxing Day.

We will have our usual scrambled eggs and salmon breakfast with Bucks Fizz, then open the presents and get on with preparing dinner. It is always the same, Paul would have a fit if I changed even a parsnip. Turkey, roast and boiled potatoes, carrots, sprouts with bacon, honey roasted parsnips and my Christmas gravy which involves oranges, wine, a dash of brandy and this and that, oh and of course, pigs in blankets and my orange, sausage meat and cranberry stuffing.  By this point we are stuffed with food and ready for cheese and biscuits and coffee while watching The Queen.

If we have any energy left, we go for a walk with the dogs, this year I cannot walk hardly any distance, so I will be on Ethel, my all terrain wheelchair.

Nearly all is ready, some last minute stocking fillers for himself and the veggies and small things to buy, the meat is ready to be picked up on Friday from Marks and Spencer and the butcher. I have baked a fruited yeast cake for himself, made mince pies, the most amazing chocolate truffles, a slab of Tiffin and some Spanish Turon.

It is all over the top, it is the one day we over indulge, we will have champagne for dinner, but we don't drink usually, so I will have to make sure the indigestion tablets are bought too.

Teatime is a turkey sandwich and nibbles, Boxing Day is turkey, chips, stuffing and pickles. Mr T will not deviate from this and I am not about to insist he does.  Christmas is all about tradition, it makes us feel safe, that some things don't change. That of family, home and feeling complete.

I hope everyone has the best Christmas, it isn't about the presents, it is about the time you spend with each other, the food made with love and Pamela will store all this in her little plastic head ready for next year and a repeat of it all over again.

Merry Christmas xxx