Category Archives: December 2019 – Christmas in Wales

Christmas in Hospital

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So here I am, 24th of December, aged thirteen, lying in my bed and I don’t want to weep but there’s a real good chance I won’t see Christmas Day.

It’s no fun having a brain aneurysm, because hey it will be the death of me. I know this because Death himself sits by my bed.

No honestly, it was yesterday when I found the bald boy, that lad who glared moodily at everyone lying still on his bed. He wasn’t blinking or breathing. And as I stood there gaping at a dead body, I heard a strong steely voice behind me, calling out with a cackle “Oh don’t worry, he wasn’t going to amount to much.”

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Christmas in Wales

Posted on by under 2019, December 2019 - Christmas in Wales

By late September, the cement in the foundations of the Christmas plans was setting nicely and the scaffolding was under construction for our two families. Shared festive traditions had evolved through their years of friendship. Each purchased a tree bauble for the other during their holidays and each had amassed a collection of these items which came to include German figures capable of appearing to puff smoke, and smoked glass globes with holiday place names. Food was always exquisite and achieved courtesy of the Marks and Spencer pre order and pick up service.

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A Christmas in Wales

Posted on by under 2019, December 2019 - Christmas in Wales

I remember years ago Christmas was very special and not about commercialism like it is today. You would have a stocking with an apple and peach and orange, and a shiny fifty pence, and some nuts and some bath salts, and then you would have one or two presents if you were lucky. Not like today where everyone wants loads of gifts like the latest gadget or iPad or phone or T.V. The good old days are gone.

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A470 at Christmas

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We were up at dawn. I was so excited I was nearly sick, but I still managed to eat a bowl of porridge. This was our Christmas trip we were embarking on … to have Christmas with my grandparents and my uncle and aunt in Cardiff.

‘Come on, Glynis,’ my mother shouted. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

I came downstairs wearing my pink fairy dress which I insisted was the proper outfit for Christmas.

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Esmeralda

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Christmas Eve 1950, we four children, aged from 2 to 8, crouched in front of the roaring fire ready to blow our lists up the chimney to Father Christmas as we did every year. We called out our desired gifts full of optimism that we might get just one of them as well as our usual apple, orange and new penny! I’d been very good and desperately wanted a large walking, talking doll which I’d seen in town, with long, curly hair and eyes which opened and closed. I’d chosen her name already: Esmeralda: a beautiful name for a beautiful doll.

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Christmas in Wales

Posted on by under 2019, December 2019 - Christmas in Wales

I’ve lived in Swansea all my life and the lights in town used to be across the lamps, and brightly lit. The parades were great and fun with always Lewis’ Pie van going past. The tree was always great. But times have changed and the lights are new, and are more up to date. But I think the lights now are not as good as they were before. The tree is still good but Swansea seems bare across the sky. And the parade now is not the best but the waterfront is lovely and bright, and the wheel is nice, also the ice-rink is fun.

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Grandpa’s Visit

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Mum“Robin, please spend some time with Grandpa this Christmas.”
Robin“Yes mum, but he‘s so boring, everything was always better in his days, the snow was colder, the sun shone more and blah de blah de blah.”
Mum“I know, but just be nice will you, he’s quite lonely now since Grandma died.  He’s only staying for two days, so let’s just try and make this a nice Christmas for him.”
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A Card

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The Christmas card simply said: ‘Bill.’ No jolly message, no ‘to Henry.’ Just the one word as usual. He put it on the mantelpiece and over Christmas, whenever he glanced at it, he thought: ‘Some friend!’

            He spoke to his wife Jan, workmates, pals. We knew each other at college, he told them, and have kept in touch by Christmas card since. We’ve never met up, never phoned, and he never says a damned thing in his card! All of them gave him the same message: just stop communicating with the blockhead.

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Merry Christmas (Everyone)

Posted on by under 2019, December 2019 - Christmas in Wales

Albert eased his cold, aching bones into the embrace of his sleeping bag, stuffed old newspapers in around his toes, shucked his collar tightly around his chin and prayed for no snow. The freezing wind coming off the Taff was already flecking his tattered ginger beard with the icy remnants of his wet breath and inserting itself between the flaps of his hat and his ears.

Lucy, his half-breed whippet and collie, curled against his body and he pulled the over-blanket he wore as a cape during the day tightly over her body, affording them both a shared warmth.

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Christmas past

Posted on by under 2019, December 2019 - Christmas in Wales

Our Christmas began with the arrival of the food hamper, mother had paid for throughout the year. It always contained weird and wonderful things, all treats. A day set aside for making ceiling decorations with sticky back shiny paper, the tree decorated, a cheer when the lights worked.

Christmas eve building up the excitement, the chicken cooking ready for sandwiches after midnight mass at our local church, the highlight for me, all the hymns we all knew by heart. So sandwiches, and bed straight after with our hot water bottles.

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