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Twixmas

 Nell, waiting for Godot…

The thing about writing a Christmas story every year is that I don’t get to record on the blog all the other stuff that happens in December. I could add in extra entries, I suppose, but I wouldn’t want anyone to become confused and think we actually have talking chickens in the house. We might. But we might not. I like to maintain an air of mystery. 

Anyway, during December the drafty bathroom turned into a sleek shower room. Not by any magical mystical means á la pumpkin into Cinderella coach, but via the hard work of Ian the Plumber who is of the old-school plumbing type and, therefore, did a cracking job. He was amiable, neat and conscientious, and I can see why he never needs to advertise and gets all his work by word-of-mouth. Big house job ticked off the list - marvellous! 

I went to see the new ‘Paddington’ film with Heather and Oli. It was good, and Olivia Coleman was hilarious as the comedy nun. It was also only an hour and a half long which is quite ample for a film. Part of me wants to go and see the new ‘Wicked’ film BUT it is almost three hours in duration and I’m not sure I can last the course. 

I caught a small head cold which lasted about five days and was the first I’ve had in two years. Lord Malarkey kindly brought it home from his work Christmas do. Odd kind of Christmas bonus, I thought, but I suppose it was a cheap offering and companies seem to be reigning in their employee benefits this year. A box of nice chocolates or a tin of shortbread would have been preferable. Still, it’s nice to know the old immune system is on point and effective. 

Christmas Day was lovely. By ten a.m I was twiddling my thumbs because it was the first time in about 35 years that I’ve not been tied to the kitchen working on providing a Christmas dinner. Oh no! Heather and Oli did the honours this year. I took the braised red cabbage and a blackberry and apple pie, but everything else was catered for by my daughter and son-in-law. And jolly good it was, too! The day was fun and relaxed (well, for me anyway!) and I received some lovely gifts including a huge ‘old lady’ wicker shopping trolley from Lord Malarkey. I reciprocated by giving him a walking stick - sorry, hiking pole - which was handcrafted and has a lovely multicoloured knob on the end.

And then, two days ago, the saddest of news. My much beloved Auntie Pollie took to her bed and just didn’t wake up again. On the Friday, her son (my cousin) called to warn me that she didn’t seem ‘right’ and I kind of knew then that she was on the way to her next big adventure. On Saturday, he called again, with the words, ‘There’s no easy way to say this, poppet…’

Just before Christmas we had FaceTimed, Auntie Pollie and I. She seemed, as always, cheerful, robust, just the same as ever. She’d been making game pies and stacking wood from a delivery she’d had. She was looking forward to visits from her granddaughters and great-grandson. She had supplied my Mum (her older sister) with mince pies. She was set for Christmas. 

And now, suddenly, she is gone. 

I am waiting for a sign to tell me she is okay and at peace. 

Comments

Anonymous said…
I’m so sorry for your loss.
KJ
2 January 2025 at 07:21
Denise said…
Thank you, KJ.
2 January 2025 at 07:50
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