“One Christmas was so much like the other, in those years around the sea-town corner now, out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve, or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.”

A Child’s Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas.

… and they were. Always the same.

The night before Christmas, last minute prep. There would be 14 or more for Christmas Dinner the next day so it had to be handled like a military operation. A favourite thing would be turning all the room lights off and sitting room to gaze at the overly decorated tree, showered in fairy lights, made more magical by the flickering shadows thrown by the coal fire. All the rooms decked with crêpe paper decorations, and sprigs of holly and tinsel.

Then to bed … my brothers and I all moved into one room for the duration, to make space for our grandmothers. Somehow, we fell asleep and by morning there were presents magically left at the foot of our beds in pillow cases (games and chocolates), and long stockings (chocolate money, tangerines, nuts and more chocolate.)

Throw back the curtains to see if it had snowed in the night … usually not, but sometimes…

Christmas Day

Morning chores - getting in the coal and gathering sticks. Lighting the fires in the three main rooms, and peeling vegetables. Occasionally showing off presents to uncomprehending Grandmothers. Being on show for the arrival of the relatives. Being teased, ‘How you’ve grown’ etc. Aperitifs - Cinzano, Dubonet, Brazil nuts.

2pm Christmas dinner - Turkey and stuffing, carrots and sprouts, parsnips, roast potatoes and gravy.

A pause to watch the Queen.

Then Christmas Pudding with brandy sauce. (Fish out the silver sixpence for luck - both before and after decimalisation.)

Then dishing out the presents for the adults - and for the kids from the gathered relatives.

Mega pause to let the food go down.

Then - out comes the leftovers, and .. a tradition in our house - Cornish Pasties.

Once the relatives had gone - it was the tail end of ‘Christmas Night with the Stars’ followed by ‘Morecambe and Wise’ and a block buster film. If we were still standing by 10.45, it was the ‘Good Old Days,’ not because we liked it, but because it was on, and we only had three channels anyway, one of which we weren’t allowed to watch because it was too common, and the other because it was too grown up.

And thence to bed.

What about Boxing Day? Well, that’s another story.

RJ