It wasn’t until Boxing Day night that I realised that I’d not had my Christmas pudding. Nor my brandy sauce. We are going to have to do Christmas Day all over again.
In the meanwhile, my daughter, Courtney, tried to make a nice, spontaneous Christmas greeting photograph for her friends with our dog, Bryn. You know, one of those cute festive things that would have everyone going “Aw.”
Like I said: she tried.
We had not been to a match for a while. We support a local Non-League club (Prestwich Heys), at a level which is always susceptible to weather. Following two postponements, I had to break the news to my son that, for that night’s game, we had no means of getting there. After my Mum passed away, the tax was stopped on her mobility car which then had to be returned. So, for a month or so, we had no car and couldn’t get to a night game.
“You’re joking!” he exclaimed. “You mean, we could have gone but there was a waterlogged pitch. Then we could have gone but then there was a frozen pitch, and now we can’t go and the pitch is fine?!
You’ve got to love irony. He doesn’t.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, thinking that our lad, still grieving the recent loss of his Gran, could do with a bit of normality, we managed to arrange a lift.
But some things just aren’t meant to be. For, just five minutes from kick off, the lights failed. Floodlights out, clubhouse lights out, changing room lights out, the league advised the referee to give us thirty minutes to see if the electricity could be restored before calling it off. The problem was obviously with the floodlights, because the clubhouse lights were restored, but when the floodlights were turned on everything tripped and we were plunged back into darkness.
The first time that happened, the lights came on and I’m sure that the ref raised his whistle to his lips and then they were off again before he could even blow it!
What is a night match without floodlights? Well, it’s not a night match.
The match was called off. Twice through weather, once through for God’s sake what we gotta do to see a game we are cursed (according to my son).
See you next game. But don’t count your chickens.
Clarity in the confusion/light in the darkness
It’s that time of year again. Wishing you all peace for the coming new year, Jackdaw followers. Wherever you are in the world, I hope these words find you well.
from my poetry blog.
One Christmas Eve Night
So, how’s your Boxing Day going? Feeling lethargic and in need of some fresh air yet? Me too. But not just yet.
In the meanwhile, I thought I’d check in to share this photo with you all. Though it’s from 1905, I’m sure that those two children are Jools Holland and Paul McCartney!
And Cindy Lauper’s not looking her best, is she?
I love this photo by Arthur Leipzig of children looking at Christmas toys in 1944. The little girl at the bottom looks like she just can’t stand the allure, I think I’d have to buy her something.
Anyway, have a great weekend everybody, Christmas is a week today.
I hope you get all you wish for. Be careful what you wish for.
See you on the flip side.
Christmas is coming, when Nancy Reagan can sit on Mr T’s knee and it doesn’t make The Sun.
That time when the kids were trying to get enough postage to send me to the North Pole.
City Jackdaw 