Christmas Club

Say, are you ready to play? It's Christmas Club Day! The final meeting of the year. Already? I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

Last week I showed a picture of two little girls in their best party dresses; and that reminded me of another Christmas photo of that same pair in their special festive trouser suits.

We're going back at least another year here, maybe two, to when they were still living in the city and so a big family party was the thing to look forward to on Christmas night.

At Christmas we

think about the company of the people we love most in the world, and about how faces can appear and disappear and reappear over the years, and how sometimes it all works out and everyone comes together, and sometimes there's a dear face we miss, or a plan which doesn't work out; but, at the end of it all, simply being able to say It's good to see you to an unexpected arrival is enough to turn the whole thing round.

Our student arrived home yesterday. We went to the airport and I did all the right things. You would have been proud of me. I held myself back from running towards him, screaming Mummy's special little boy and throwing my arms round his knees. I decided against handing out Santa hats and false beards, so he'd know it was us. And I remembered not to tell him to give his dad his suitcase. Not manly. So I think he was pleased to see us. He'd emailed ahead, requesting potato based meals. "We've only eaten potatoes this term when I've cooked them. Doesn't the rest of the world eat potatoes like we do?" he said. I think you know the answer to that one, son.

But at least this year we'll all be eating. It's a few years ago since the famous food poisoning perplexation of '98. I'll spare you most of the details, but you're welcome to use your imaginations. I passed out, ended up in hospital on a drip, leaving two small children and a quite-sick-himself husband, home alone. Sometimes everything looks set to be perfect, other times..

Whatever they hooked me up to was strange stuff. I'm not sure that I'd like to try it again. I imagined the children coming to visit me, heard them running up the ward, calling to me. I got home in time for Christmas dinner. just. Was that the year Uncle Dave washed all the dishes?

Did someone say Uncle Dave? He's flying in tomorrow and we're all looking forward to seeing him. He knows it. As Uncle Dave himself used to be fond of saying when his niece and nephew would eye his  back-home-for-Christmas suitcase expectantly:

Your present?

Your present..................

.............is my presence.

I'm very much hoping there's a presence who's a present for all of you this week. Merry Christmas!

Come join our Christmas Club. Any story, any Christmassy post welcome. Link us up! Last chance this year...

Christmas Club

So, what do you say? Shall we Christmas Club today? I was feeling pretty festive last week after reading all the stories. I can't wait to see what we've got this time round. Mmm...I might have to open a seasonal tin of Quality Street here. Hazelnut in toffee, anyone?

Now I'm unwrapping that purple foil and I'm looking at it, thinking that's too pretty to throw away: surely I can make something with it. Because that's what we do in this family. We make things. And

at Christmas we

make presents.

Once, we made part of a present. And that part we were to give to ourselves, although we didn't know it at the time.

I must have been about seven, the others younger; and, as we sat there on Christmas Eve, willing ourselves to get tired, our Mum set a cardboard box down in front of each of us. We were to make shops, she said. Here's some wallpaper  for the walls and some felt for the floors. Make them look nice now.

So we worked on our shops, cutting and sticking, and before we realised, it was time for bed. The waiting was nearly done. As we climbed into our pyjamas we worried that we hadn't finished, that we had more bits to add, and our Mum said we mustn't think about it, Santa was coming and we needed to sleep, and the shops could wait until after Christmas. 

We slept, Santa came (though we didn't hear a thing), and we woke up to a pile of surprises. But what do you think? Right in the middle were the shops! Neatly finished off, they were, and tricked out to perfection with tiny scales and paper bags, and little scoops and a whole row of glass jars, full, of course. We had other presents (maybe that was even the year of last week's toy kitchen mincer), but if we talk now about our Christmasses in that house, my Mum always asks if we remember the shops. We do remember, that year we were a family of shopkeepers.

And that was to be the end of my story for this week. I had planned to tell more about the presents we have made over the years, but Nicky the doll, and her dresses, probably deserves a story of her own, I decided, so I went looking for a picture. I found this one:

which shows us, that year, in our special Christmas dresses and holding our new dolls in their long party dresses. All made by Mum. But when I looked more closely at this picture, I jumped. for there, in the corner, is the desk. You know the desk. Or you will if you've been following Me On Monday (right here) It's the one we took to Scotland at the beginning of the autumn, for that boy of ours to work at. I took pictures of him carrying it up the stairs to his flat. From the 1970's to 2014: isn't that the way it goes at Christmas? Little bit of then, little bit of now, all wrapped up together. I wouldn't have it any other way.

At Christmas we

remember. And record.

Like to give it a try? It's only a suggestion. Any story, any Christmassy post at all would be perfect. Come join our Christmas Club!

Christmas Club

Hey, hey, it's Christmas Club day! i want to offer grateful thanks (and a mince pie or two) to everyone who said "yes!" when I put forward the idea of bringing back Christmas Club. You made me sit down with my notebook and freshly sharpened pencil even though I'd had a mid week panic. I couldn't think of a good story, every one I tried to conjure kept slipping away, or I remembered that I'd told it before. Though maybe, now I think of it, that's the best bit about Christmas? We can do the same thing over and over again, a hundred times over, every year, and it never gets old. And every time we do it, we honour the times we've done it before. We remember.

So I decided to take my own advice and pick up that pencil and remember.

At Christmas we...

wrap up the gifts we have chosen with love and care and we cast our minds back to presents from the past

* There was the Christmas my little sister ruined her new toy kitchen mincer (it had a handle and a big mincing screw and everything) on its first outing. With a wine gum. She put a sticky, chewy sweet through her mincing machine. Well wouldn't you try to mince a wine gum on Christmas morning if all your Mum offered was a slice of white bread? I guess she was making stuffing at the time. That mincer never minced again.

* Or the time Grandma asked my little brother what he would like and he said "Ask a silly question" . Which isn't really the reply a kind, list making Grandma has a right to expect a week before Christmas. It took my Mum a minute to rally and then step in smoothly to explain that it was actually the title of a book he was after; and not a scurrilous slight to her tentative enquiries. Ask a silly question became the standard answer to any kind of query that Christmas.

* And then there was the morning a neighbour called in unexpectedly early - you know, before her present had been wrapped? "Wooden bowls," my Mum mouthed at me behind her back. I ran, i wrapped, I handed the parcel over and Mrs f accepted. End of the week, my Mum decided to finish sorting out the presents. "I thought I had more wooden bowls," she said. "I bought them specially and I had one for Mrs G and one for Betty and one for..." The next thing she heard was my hand being clapped over my mouth. I'd wrapped the whole lot. At once. All together. Happy bumper Christmas Mrs F. Hope you liked them. 

It's only as a grown up that I understand why my Mum looked like she wanted to cry that day. Just before she dug into her handbag for her shopping list, and started re adding names to the bottom of it again.

That's the thing about saying

At Christmas we

Sometimes you can see a story in a whole new light.

Like to give it a try? It's only a suggestion. Any story, any Christmassy post at all would be perfect. Come join our Christmas Club! I've added a linky so you can be part of the Club and it's open for the next week, so you've plenty of time to come up with a post. I'm looking forward to it.

My photos this week are of a present Santa brought when Paddington Bear was popular the first time round. He had a duffel coat,yes, but my Mum made sure that Santa knew he should also have wellies and a suitcase and some warm clothes for our snow that winter. The scarf is an early example of Sian knitting.

And photographing Paddington has given me some idea for next week. I need to start writing again. Thanks for reading!

Christmas Club (5)

And so we've come to the last Christmas Club of the season. It's sort of good (because it means Christmas is nearly here); and sort of not-so-good (because we've reached the end. For now). But, in any case, I hope you've had as much fun as I have.

I wanted a special finale; and so I've reached across the Ocean to bring you - my brother! He can't make it home for the holidays this year so this is my way of having us celebrate the season together. Please, give him a big, warm, blogging welcome as he shares his Christmas memories today...

Now, it's been said that I'm not exactly one of Santa's most willing little helpers, and sad to say that's largely true. No one seeks me out to recharge their own supply of festive cheer, and currently my office is decked not with boughs of holly but essays waiting to be marked.

When I've looked back into the past I always thought I found justification for my disinclination to celebrate. There was, for instance, the Christmas spent far away and largely alone in Taiwan, where I was woken very early on Christmas morning not by Shengdanlaoren (Santa) but by the landlord who wanted to remove my door and windows so that they could join the toilet out in the street. Yes he would put them back, but not for a few days.

And there was another Christmas much more recently when, with a job ended and no new employment in sight, the festive season seemed to bring little cause for celebration.

But as I considered these and other Christmases, I realised a mistake I was making. So used to reading books (well, it is my job) I'd come to confuse the fiction of a holiday with the real thing. After all, nothing does Christmas like a novel. Think of the end of  "A Christmas Carol": a wonderful, wonderful story and I recommend it; but of course it never actually happened.

So I looked again at the Christmases Past, in particular at the ones I felt had failed to satisfy, and instead of seeing my draughty and stable-like accomodation in metropolitan Taipei I remembered that, later on in the day I had joined friends to make mulled wine. We bought the spices not at a grocers, but at a traditional Chinese medicine shop. And as the Taiwanese Government had conveniently designated a Constitution Day, we all had the 25th of December off.

The Christmas of Unemployment too changed on re-examination. I remembered standing at the beach in Los Angeles on Christmas Day, watching a trio of Santas speed by on rollerblades, as only Southern Californian Santas can.

The thing is, whether you've just finished quietly observing Hannukah and are now looking forward to the festiviteis of the New Year, or whether you're still in the midst of hectic Christmas preparations - our holidays are ours, and we needn't feel ther is anything wrong if they don't meet the standard of some book, film or magazine. So even if you have no doors or toilet, or if the purse is a little empty, or if anything is less than perfect, you have every right to seize whatever little moment seems special and call that your Christmas. It may even be sharing a favourite chapter of a book with someone - and yes, even a chapter about Christmas. I'll recommend - in fact, I'll almost insist on - "Dulce Domum" from Wind in the Willows, in which a Mole and a Water rat make a Christmas out of next to nothing. Find it here

Many thanks to Sian for allowing me the opportunity to go on a bit. Things will be back to normal next time...

Thanks, bro - and Happy Christmas! Now, link your Christmas Club story for us all to enjoy

It's Thursday and I'm Thankful

It's Thursday and I'm thankful:

• For a girl who will be fit enough to play in her concert tonight, and for the Get Well Soon wishes you sent.
• For this amazing blog world, and the parcel I received from Alexa (with a beautiful card inside) AND the lovely email sent by Carmen yesterday.
• For the Christmas Clubbers who have so willingly given time to turning up old photos and turning over old memories. That little girl sitting in her kitchen is now one nicely aged blogger, delighted and privileged to have been allowed to share.
• For Kate's clever idea she emailed me yesterday, to let us tell stories all year round. It's something for January..
• And for Journal Your Christmas and the groove I'm starting to find

I photographed the Tree Lover page without its journaling. The Tall One probably doesn't want everyone to know about his setting out in a manly way to hunt and gather a tree and meeting his girlfriends mum, who now thinks he's a lovely family-man-in-the-making. Oops, I've said too much already. But at least now you know where the "love " comes in.

Now I'm off upstairs to see if I can turn this post into the next page in my album. Because it's "Gratitude" day today; and I think I'm ready for it. I hope it's a good one for you, too.

Christmas Club (4) Meeting Santa

It's Sunday, so it's Christmas Club! We're getting ever closer to the Big Day itself and the excitement is building here at High In The Sky. How about you?

I have a special post for you today. Last week The Small One sat her end of term tests; and when she came home and told me that her English teacher had asked for a story about "The Greatest Thing That Ever Happened To Me", I knew exactly what that story was going to be. It's a lovely Christmas memory and I thought it was perfect for retelling. So here it is, in her own words...

"The best thing that ever happened to me was when I won a colouring competition to visit Santa in his grotto.

I was in P2 and it was coming to the end of a very boring day at school. Just the thought of watching a DVD, that I had already seen twenty times before, for another half an hour to wait for my brother, made me yawn. As I was younger I got out earlier and had to go to 2.30 Club to wait for him to finish. We had just written down what page to read for homework when my teacher lifted a pile of envelopes off her desk and started to hand them out.

When I received mine, I realised that it had my name and school on it, If it was being handed out by the school, why would it have the school name on it? I ignored that and put it in my satchel. When I got home I completely forgot about my letter and concentrated on my homework instead. When I was watching tv after tea, I noticed my Santa letter, which was to be posted that night; and I remembered my letter from school and got my mum to read it out.

I had won a colouring competition! I was to visit Santa in a shopping centre that Saturday! Next morning I asked everyone about their letters and their letters had only said Thank you for entering the competition!

When it came to Saturday, I was SO excited! When we got to the centre, my mum and brother watched from the balcony while my dad and I visited Santa. I got a V.I.P. pass and went to a V.I.P. queue. When it was my turn I sat on Santa's knee before getting my photo taken. He gave me a present (which was a purple purse) and I skipped away happily.

Even though I wouldn't really enjoy that trip now, I loved it at the time and found it truly magical. I still have that purse now and I have used it loads. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. "

And that's the story here today. If you have a Christmas story to share, we would love to read it. Leave us a link! We'll be spending today at the original home of Christmas Club - with my mum. And I'll be telling her all about your best Christmas memories from here and here

Christmas Club (3) One I Made Earlier

It's time for Christmas Club again! I can't tell you how thrilled I was when I saw how many of you wanted to join in last week. I have loved reading every single one of your stories (and I hope you have too); and I can't wait to see what you come up with this time round.

We're a whole week closer to Christmas now; and, as I type, The Small One is flute playing her way through a medley of Christmas music and it's making me feel in fine form for a story.

But the thing about the old songs, of course, is that they can take you back to the low moments too. And, as "Silent Night" comes down the stairs to me, I'm thinking about the year when I was about the age The Small One is now.

Just after Christmas it was, though the decorations were still draped round the ward; and the mistletoe still held out some hope at the nurses station. I was in hospital. I had an infection in my knee and I was on bed rest, feverish and sore. I had plenty of visitors during the day, lots to keep me distracted. But the evenings were hard. My Mum was at home on her own with my younger brother and sister. She couldn't come. I was on my own at visiting time. So what did  I do? I made a scrapbook!

It was my Mum's idea. The scrapbook itself had come for Christmas with Paddington himself (I still have him too). So, my Mum brought me a big pile of old Christmas cards and some glue and each afternoon together we would choose the pictures. Then in the evenings, when I was on my own, I would cut them out and stick them into my scrapbook. Like this:

So Seventies. So, um, free form. But so important I've kept it always. My first scrapbook.

These days, I still like to wait until I'm on my own before I can concentrate on cutting and sticking. But I'm not doing it for the same reason. And I say Happy Christmas! to that.

If you have a memory that makes you want to shout Happy Christmas! think about Christmas Clubbing it and leaving us a link. We'd love to join you..

Linky opens on Sunday



Christmas Club (2) My Inner Elf

Are you ready for Christmas Club again this week? It begins like this...

I have a friend. A crazy, kind, dear friend who likes to make things happen. She can persuade me into all sorts of mischief I'd never have come up with on my own. Well, I might; but it would take me a while. She likes to create things; she likes a costume or two; and so it was that the year she persuaded me to join the P.T.A. I found Santa in my kitchen.

Maybe he's trying to disappear here, or maybe, just maybe, he's trying to let you see the beautiful red hood on the back of his jacket. It took quite a lot of bargain upholstery velvet to make that cloak (and it's slippery stuff). But make it I did. Because my ingenious friend had decided that a Santa Photo Booth would be the perfect fundraiser for the School Christmas Fair.

To make it work we needed a Santa (check), a camera (check), a fast printer (check, check) and some help. Oh, you know what sort of help Santa needs, don't you?

Elves, of course. The kind of elves prepared to dress themselves up in felt outfits of their own devising, with mad makeup and silly hats. You are beginning to have an ide what's coming next now, aren't you? Setting up was the hardest bit. But the elves only had themselves to blame for that, because they'd been out on the town the night before. Once we were in character we had a ball. The little ones loved it; their parents bought photos..and we were asked to do it all over again the following year.

And that is the story of the Christmas I found my Inner Elf. And Santa? Haven't you guessed? The world needs a Father Christmas who can balance his books...

If you have a Christmas memory you love, you can Christmas Club it too. Write a post with your story; then, please, come back and link us up. The more, the merrier..

And I'll have a new Christmas Club story for you next week.

A Christmas Catch All

I'm opening up the doors and letting Christmas in completely at High In The Sky. Over the weekend I sewed two of the three felt ornaments from this years Rosy Little Things kit. The final one - a cross stitched grey mitten - uses waste canvas, and I've come a bit unstuck with it. I know the theory, it's just the practice. I think I need more.

I love the grey, red and white colour scheme (and especially that red felt coat. I'd like a grownup version, please). It seems very fresh this year, like the new Jenni Bowlin line I'm hoping will arrive here soon.

As you can probably tell, I'm having a bit of a fling with felt at the moment. I found these you might like:

• Family Circle easy felt makes. Be sure to click on "next" for the instructions (found via Felt-O-Rama)
• Twisted Felt Garland at Purl Bee. It needs some really long strips of felt - but the necklace or bracelet would be much quicker and cheaper to try!

(See also here, if you missed my felt-y links a couple of weeks ago)

And I've been eyeing up some sturdy shoe-coloured pieces because, as a couple of you suggested on Sunday, those children need a new home. I'm so glad that you enjoyed Christmas Club this week; and I'm delighted that so many of you are thinking of joining in. I'm going to see if I can add a linky thing so that you can add your own posts next week.

But, please. No stress. A simple memory of a treasured moment is more than good enough. Maybe it's happy, maybe it's poignant. Most celebrations in most houses are a mixture of both. And that's why it always bothers me a little when magazines urge us to have our "best Christmas ever". Surely it doesn't have to be that. All many of us hope for is a happy few hours with time for laughter and time for being quiet with people we love. So, when I'm choosing my gifts (and hoping they are the right ones); putting my turkey in the oven (and hoping it comes out nicely cooked); and setting out for a Carol Service (and hoping for the tunes I know the best), I'll be thinking about this:

It came to me as a giveaway gift recently from the lovely Laurie at One Black Bird. If you are getting ready for Thanksgiving or thinking ahead to Christmas, you might like to keep it in mind. And I'll see you back here very soon.

Sian's Christmas Club

I've held off for as long as I can, but with only four Sundays left before Christmas I'm getting excited. How about you? Getting ready for Christmas is one of my favourite things to do. Any members of my family reading this are now smiling because they can tell what's coming next. They just know that I'm going to tell you about Christmas Club.

Sian's Christmas Club ran for four weeks every year. Oh, I was a busy little organiser when I was eight. I gathered the family together on Sunday afternoons and beguiled them into enjoying the programme I had prepared. We began with the raucous singing of a festive favourite (my choice), followed by a recitation of a seasonal verse (by me) and we finished with a craft project (something I wanted to make). My Mum, who is still the biggest Christmas lover in the family, connived with me in the whole enterprise by bribing my little brother and sister with mince pies and hot ginger cordial. It was fun while it lasted.

But, wait. I'm thinking..why not bring it back? You don't have to sing, you don't have to eat mince pies(because I haven't made any yet) and you definitely don't have to make anything if you don't want to. I simply thought I'd share a seasonal story or two every Sunday until the Big Day itself. If you'd like to join in and do a Christmas Club post of your own, I'd love to come and visit.

For today I'd like to show you a photo of one of my favourite ever presents:

That's me in the pink and blue, learning early that cerise isn't really my colour. We are playing with The Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe. There is her shoe and all her children. All made one by one by my Mum. Funny thing is, I think I actually got this present early, because she was so pleased with the way it had turned out she couldn't wait to give it to me. I really, really loved it. The Shoe has gone now, crumbled away to dust. But I still have all the little dolls. Each one is different: tall, small, boy, girl, play clothes, party clothes. I got them out this morning and took a couple of new pictures. They are looking pretty good for forty year olds, do you think? Getting up on their feet is a bit harder than it used to be. But then a lot of us can say that.

So, that's Christmas Club for today. If you have a story about a memorable festive moment, you could Christmas Club it too. The more the merrier!