Thank you x
I have not forgotten.
Thank you x
They were not dismissed.
Thank you x
They are part of who I was and who I became.
Thank you x
For none of them are forgot!
The Big Yellow Teapot...that my sister and I were given when I was two (?) and did not discover had a garage complete with a car, under the handle until I was ten. The gift that keeps giving, hey?
Tiny Tears. I can still smell this doll's hair and face. She was joyous. She had a honeyed, Indian skin, and black, curly hair. I remember my Dad making her try to wee. Ha!
My Sindy Ballerina Doll. White tutu. Complete with stand so she could arabesque. That year I had a leotard with a frill and my first ballet shoes. Dad promised to take me to the ballet, one day. There is a photo with me and the labradour "doing ballet". It makes me *smile*
Matching Dolls Houses. Little tiny, model, realistic little people, who were forever doomed to be in a sitting position. A baby brother and potentially a new kitten...but perhaps my memory plays tricks?
Cyprus Years. Walking on the beach at Christmas time. Santa arriving by helicopter, fire engine etc. Rainbow Brite....I so wished to know all the words to Over the Rainbow and would pester and pester. I quit ballet.
Roller Boots! Cobalt Blue with a rainbow swish! My, oh my! The opening of these boots. I will never forget. The magic, the joy, the anticipation. This was the year my brother delivered his entire Christmas wishlist up the chimney with his little bare behind out and a huge avalanche of soot fell on his head. We cruelly found it (find it) one of the funniest things we have ever seen....I think it may have scarred him x
Knitting Machine. Genius. I made a scarf. We had our own Christmas tree, in our room this year. I remember, as I sit it the glow of my daughter's mismatched, bedecked, pink one. I think we may have had a trip to Scotland that Christmas. Complete with Watership Down, interrupted by the meter needing 50p and never ending selection boxes, at the Skye House. And bedding down in Glasgow, sleeping bags at the end of my Great Grannies bed. False teeth in a glass, illuminated from behindm by the glow in the dark clock hands. Sweenie Todd for a bedtime tale...and ensuing nightmare (still vividly remembered!) My Little Pony Castle....a never to be forgotten moment for us sisters!
Norway. Snow. A new world of snoods, ski suits and helly hansen. My happiest childhood years. A huge traditional cardigan, with blousey roses knitted in. Worn over leggings and snow boots. We were trendy newby teens!
My Last Years at Home...these years are full of GCSE's, new boyfriend, Argos jewellry section and cinema trips. First kisses and New Year's Parties.
1998....I met Mr B. And so ensued the Christmas of Corgi BMW jokes, mixed tapes and a glow in the dark jupiter. Don't ask. It did improve.
2004 Christmas Wedding. Honeymoon in Banff. First Christmas alone. We were a little sad.
We announced the hopeful arrival of a summer baby, on Christmas Day. Oh the shocked faces. I phoned my Nana. She said "wonderful, Agool." She never met him.
My Christmas Years as a Mummy. Which brings me back to my initial thoughts of thanks.
It takes thought and love and I know many hours to make a Christmas Special. Being Santa's Little Helper is a lofty position, not to be taken lightly. To my own Mum and Dad, I tip my hat, with recognition. Thank you for the wonderful memories and experiences. They were magical. x