Like most people, Mandi and I
are allowed to open one present after midnight before bed on Christmas Eve.
This is a tradition that we didn’t have in my family as a child, so it always
feels slightly rebellious to be doing this. It was worth it though, as Mandi
had bought me this Santa suit onesie. I wanted to stay in it all day, but we
were going out.
I know that I haven’t been feeling
especially festive this year, but once I was at my dad’s I felt a little bit better
about Christmas. When I was a child, Christmas Day seemed to have an aura about
it; it felt like it was a truly special day. Maybe that wears off, because today
didn’t have any magic about it.
We opened our
pound-shop-fiver-dash stockings in bed before Mandi went for a shower. I took
Jack for a walk around the park (nothing Christmassy about picking up dog turds
and putting them in the bin) for a run around to hopefully spend some energy
seeing as we were taking him with us to my dad’s house.
Mandi seemed a little more
relaxed this year, free from the responsibility of Christmas dinner. We had a
lovely time opening presents, having lunch and settling down in front of the
telly (there was only four of us this year so we didn’t bother with parlour
games or a sing-song around the piano – mainly because we don’t have a piano).
Before we had our buffet tea, we took Jack home and settled him down for the
night and walked back. On the way back to my dad’s I took a little detour to
take this photo.
I love that shop; a proper
hardware shop that despite all the chaos, he can probably find exactly what it
is you want straight away. You wouldn’t get that level of customer service in
Wilkinson or B&Q.
It is worth me pointing out
that I tried my best this year to get The Old General statue dressed as Santa,
but was unsuccessful. When the statue was dressed, you knew Christmas had
arrived in Nottingham, as people used to travel from all around to see it. A
few weeks ago I attempted contact with someone who has the keys to the pub, but
to no avail. They should be ashamed of themselves for allowing this tradition
to come to an end, especially as for over one hundred years the statue has
heralded the start of the festive season for the people of this fine city. The
chain is now broken, hopefully not beyond repair. I will keep being a pain in
the arse about this, and hopefully Christmas 2014 will see a return to a real
Christmas in Nottingham. Even if the pub hasn’t reopened, I will set up some
kind of event around it.
One of my highlights of
Christmas is the huge amount of buffet food you manage to eat over the two-week
holiday period. In fact, I sometimes wonder if I find Christmas Day teatime
more exciting than Christmas lunch itself. The coffee table was set up with
nuts, pineapple and cheese on sticks, cheese and biscuits, all the stuff we all
eat too much of at this time of year and then don’t even think about until the
following Christmas (I still maintain that Ritz crackers shouldn’t even be on
sale during the year).
My nana had said that she was staying until
around half past eight, so when we got home with Jack I set Doctor Who and Eastenders to
record, just in case she talked all the way through. There’s still a Christmas
Day Doctor Who that I can’t remember for
that reason. Although nana didn’t talk over it this year, her taxi arrived just
as Matt Smith was turning into Peter Capaldi.
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