Ticking everything off the yuletide to-do list can result in everybody feeling a bit frazzled, writes Moreen Simpson.
That’s me done and dusted with festive sparkle.
I’ve coonted doon a’ the Christmassy things we usually do. Marischal College market, the grand-toots’ concert and the panto. Prezzies wrapped. Cards still in a pile, but I canna be bothered displaying them arty-fartily, coz they aye periodically fallollop doon. Fit a fash.
My quine put bonnie lights roon my front window, but I’d lost the fittings bought with them last year, so she just used sticky tape. Guess fit? They keep fallollopin’ doon, danglin’ like they’re blotto. I’m feart to clamber up to re-fix, so they’re temporarily switched off. Fit a faff.
The toots and their mum loved the rides in the market. I’m just glad I took oot that second mortgage to pay for them. I adored the Musical Extravaganza at the school, the wee ones so tear-jerkingly cute and innocent, the primary sevens suddenly heart-stoppingly grown-up, heading so fast towards the big school.
To the panto at His Majesty’s, where we’ve gone every year since the oldest grandchild was three. Mostly, we’ve enjoyed them – apart from the years with Jimmy Osmond and Louie Spence. Both pretty dire – oh, yes they were.
I wasn’t anticipating anything great from Brendan Cole. Always struck me as a bittie up his own rumba. However, he was an absolute scary delight as Captain Hook. Deffo the star of the show.
Send songs, not cards
Now the only major jobbie I’ve to do is make chicken broth for the Christmas meal, which we’re having at my son-in-law’s sister’s. I just carry in the soup, sit doon and enjoy masellie, never a finger lifted. One of the few delights of being an aged crone.
In the past, when I did a’thing (never found a hubby who could or would cook), the run-up to the 25th would be a blur of last-minute shopping (when the kids changed their Santa lists) and organising food; no mean feat when, as I recall, we had only one big supermarket, Fine Fare at Bridge of Dee, same site as today’s massive Asda. I remember one year turning up for my huge turkey shop to discover an enormous queue outside for… trolleys!
Have you noticed fewer folk are sending cards this year? Quite right, too, at 68p for a second-class stamp. Unless loads have got lost amid the postie strikes. Or a load of my pals are in the huff.
One dear friend sent an email saying he was donating to charity instead of cards, but the message contained a wonderful jazz tune played on his saxophone. I let the toots listen, then suddenly came up with an idea. Why didn’t we send an email with us doing one of our favourite songs? We have two we do brilliantly together, complete with dance moves. Sadly, the toots flashed me one of their “just as if!” looks.
However, to wish you all a happy Christmas, keek at the cartoon and imagine us singing – OK, they’re not exactly festive classics, but they’re affa singable – Donovan’s Mellow Yellow, and The Lion Sleeps Tonight.
Moreen Simpson is a former assistant editor of the Evening Express and The Press & Journal, and started her journalism career in 1970
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