‘This is a special book – CHRISTMAS 2025 OUR FAMILY’
‘Old photos, who wants to look at old photos?’
‘I do, they must have lived in this house.’
‘Ha ha, look at what they are wearing.’
‘The garden has changed a lot since then, rather cute, flowers all different colours.’
‘Boring, turn over…. Yuk, what is that?’
‘A baby, what some people used to have instead of cats.’
‘Why?’
‘Not sure, maybe all will be revealed if we keep turning the pages.’
‘Why are they sitting on the ground looking at water?’
‘I’ll do a historic data check…. Sea side, that’s what a beach looks like…’
‘Boring, turn to the next page. That baby thingy seems to be getting bigger.’
‘I’ll data check… it’s growing.’
‘Why?’
‘It doesn’t say, just that they grow quickly.’
‘Keep going, oh it’s standing up, I wouldn’t want one of those things clinging to my leg.’
‘Look, here’s the front of our house, more flowers, lots more people, wonder how many lived here?’
‘Strange clothes, next page… they have put those baby things in boxes with wheels, our cats wouldn’t put up with that. Last page, what on earth is that great big green thing? I’ll data check… a Christmas tree, a tree chopped down and put indoors, no wonder there aren’t any trees left outside.’
‘Right, it’s time we went to check if the cats have finished playing with the humans.’
When you get carried away with your Christmas lights…
A Heavenly message ?
Or a Harbinger of Doom?
It’s raining here, but thanks to digital magic here is my favourite brightest Christmas tree from Australia.
Don’t know how I managed that, the bottom 12 % must be really rubbish! Minutes spent includes being distracted, playing with your phone, answering the doorbell and falling asleep – discovering the next morning you are still in the middle of a lesson.
The front door slammed and she sighed with relief, that was everyone gone to work and school and she could have a good tidy up. She switched the radio on, what rubbish had they been listening to? She turned over to Radio 4, bound to be someone talking about something clever. At least they had put the dishwasher on, but what was that letter doing on the counter top? Just rubbish by the look of it, recycling box.
She drifted into the hall where a bright pink glove lay on the floor, Evie’s, her hands would be cold, it was frosty out. Car keys just dropped in that dish, don’t they ever think about security? Mason’s scarf left on the stairs, probably deliberately, he always insists he won’t be cold. She picked the scarf up and carried on up the stairs.
The bedrooms were a complete mess as usual, well making beds was not on her agenda. On the landing she tried to straighten up the ghastly picture, but it fell off the wall, hook fallen out. Dan would have to fix that, it was about time he improved his DIY skills. Someone was going to trip over that toy truck, put it away safely. She could do with a cup of coffee, pity she wasn’t drinking it any more. £20 note just lying on top of the dresser, put that in the money pot, see if anyone missed it.
She looked out of the front bedroom window, new people moving in across the road, how many times had that place changed hands? Library book on the floor, hmm due back tomorrow, better put it by the front door …and reading glasses on the floor, they could go safely in that drawer.
Was that the time already, end of the peace and quiet…
‘Don’t leave your school bags on the floor… no not till you have got changed and done your homework….. I can hear voices in the kitchen! Wait in the hall. It’s okay, the radio was on, but I’m sure I switched if off and I never listen to Radio Four… I’m coming upstairs to make sure you’re getting changed and not playing with… hey who knocked Grandma’s painting down.’
‘Not me it was Evie.’
‘No it wasn’t, it was Mason.’
Hello Darling, hello kids.’
‘Dan, can you fetch my reading glasses down, they’re by the bed. I need to read the instructions on this packet.’
‘Who knocked the picture down, I only put it up last week. Couldn’t see your glasses.’
‘They are with my library book.’
‘Just give me the packet, I’ll read it out to you… See what you mean about the tiny writing, well whatever you are supposed to do you have to do it for five minutes. Now where is that letter I got yesterday, I left it in the kitchen so I would not forget to phone them.’
‘Mummy, where’s my new truck?’
‘I don’t know, where did you leave it, surely it’s too big to lose.’
‘I can’t find my reading glasses anywhere and I can’t find the library book. It’s book club tomorrow and I still have two more chapters to go.’
‘Why do you have to read in bed anyway?’
‘I always read in bed.’
‘Borrow my Kindle, you can just make the writing big, now that’s funny, when did I last have my Kindle?’
‘How am I supposed to know?’
‘Evie, did you find your other glove? Mason will you put your scarf on, there’s a cold wind. What do you mean you can’t find it? Not on the coat hook or in your school bag? Look it’s getting late, I think we’d better go in the car. That’s funny, where are the car keys?’
‘Hello Darling, how was your day?’
‘Don’t ask… Dan, do you think I’m going through the perimenopause?’
‘The peri what?’
‘Brain fog, I keep losing things, or at least forgetting where I’ve put them.’
‘Everyone mislays things. You wanted a nice big house, but it’s easier to lose things than when we were in the flat. Either that or it’s haunted, like on that programme ha ha.’
‘Dan, you don’t really think… the neighbours reckon we got this place cheaper because some old lady died here and her family wanted to sell quickly.’
‘Cos they needed the money probably. Well it was our luck.’
‘Certainly was and all clean and tidy when we viewed it, not like we were expecting, good thing she can’t see it now.’
Staying in someone else’s home is the topic I chose for our writers’ group when it was my turn this week. It covers a wide range of experiences from world leaders being the guests of royal families, to school children going on sleepovers, so I am expecting them all to have come up with a piece.
I have stayed in many homes, sometimes those of strangers. As the eldest in the family I was often farmed out to make way for visiting friends and relatives. Looking back now, senior me would be appalled at the thought of sleeping on a stranger’s living room floor with several friends. Last week I did sleep in an office; modern working from home means spare bedrooms have become offices. However, the sofa bed was very comfortable and I did have exclusive use of the shower room next door, except when boys were having showers or going for a …
How kind were the many people who put me and friends up on various travels. Nowadays I prefer to be the hostess not the guest and we have had many people to stay over the years.
Whether you are staying or having visitors, the bad experiences are more fun to write about.
Worst Sleepover
My younger son and his best friend, plus a boy we had never met, were taken to the speedway by BF’s Dad. They enjoyed the evening and the sort of takeaway food you can get away with when there are no mothers around – this fact is relevant to the story. They then came back to our house to get settled into sleeping bags in our son’s room.
At 3am our bedroom door was flung open and son announced that the ‘other boy’ had been sick in his sleeping bag.
Worst Christmas – also involving vomiting.
My friend and I left Perth, Western Australia, having cadged a lift across the Nullabor Plain with a family friend. Our final destination was Tasmania. My friend being a laid back Aussie country girl assured me her various relatives would be happy to put us up. Our first stop was her aunt in South Australia for Christmas. They had an apricot farm near the Murray River and another aunt lived across the road. They also owned a shop down in the town – relevant fact.
They welcomed us in the lead up to Christmas and we planned to leave on Boxing Day. Christmas Eve proved eventful as the aunt across the road was having a miscarriage and my friend commandeered our driver to take Aunty to hospital. I was left alone to look after her other children, who I had never met before, in a house I had never been in and feed them.
Christmas Day was very pleasant, but that night my friend and I were awoken by the most horrendous noise. Our driver had food poisoning… what we subsequently discovered was that other visiting relatives had noticed one of the freezers in the family shop was dodgy and had warned each other not to touch the chicken.
We set off for Melbourne the next morning with my friend assuring our poor driver he would be fine. We made it, but I succumbed to the food poisoning the following day.
At some stage we bade farewell to our driver and went to stay with another aunt and uncle in a posh house. After a couple of nights we took a coach to Sydney where we stayed in a Girls’ Friendly Society hostel. We had to sign back in before midnight, even on New Year’s Eve. We then returned to Melbourne for a planned second short stay with the aunt and uncle before our flight to Tasmania, but they had mysteriously disappeared on holiday!
With no money set aside for accommodation we wandered into a respectable Christian bookshop in the city and asked a young shop assistant if she knew any cheap accommodation. She replied that her father had just gone away for a few days and she would be delighted to have some company to stay as she did not like to be alone.
What are your best or worst experiences of staying in someone else’s home? Take this quiz to find out if you are a good guest.
Your host is lactose intolerant, vegetarian and teetotal. Do you arrive with
A a homemade vegan cake you have made especially
B a lovely bouquet of flowers
C a bottle of wine, box of chocolates and pork pies from ‘our lovely farm shop’.
One person in the family has to get up very early and catch a train to work. You always wake up early so do you
A Check the night before what time they go out the door, so you do not get in their way. Hide under the covers not making a sound in case they worry they have woken you up.
B Dash in the shower and hope you are out before they want to come in the bathroom.
C Get up to make a cup of tea for both of you and take the chance to have a nice catch up chat.
Your host is cooking the evening meal, do you
A Peep round the kitchen door say ‘You don’t want any help do you’ and retreat quickly.
B Ask if there is anything you can do and keep out of the way of the cooker and the cook while you peel the potatoes as requested.
C When the cook says ‘No you go and watch television, I don’t need any help’ insist on helping and showing how you usually do the potatoes and catching them up with all the latest events in your life.
All Cs, I am away that week, sorry, though I do like chocs and wine…
‘Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own Mum with Dad in the Antarctic?’
‘Everest base camp.’
‘Wherever, I know it’s somewhere cold and far away.’
I was of course looking forward to the peace and quiet. Naturally I had the normal worries about Amy going off to Australia for her gap year, but I was sure she had inherited her father’s adventurous but capable spirit. She was going with Lizzy her sensible best friend, inseparable since nursery.
The first week it was strange, but friends at work suggested a few outings, glad to have a break from their own husbands who showed no inclination to leave Ealing, let alone go on adventures broad.
I had always had Amy and Ben keeping me busy when Kit was away. Now Ben was grown up, in theory at least and teaching English as a foreign language somewhere nearer to Everest than Ealing.
The new girl at work was very quiet, but apparently she was highly regarded down in packing, where I used to work as a part timer when the children were in primary school. She was dexterous and quick and could pack anything. The company specialised in delivering high quality food in designer biodegradable boxes. We would source and deliver any request from romantic ready dinners to Tower Bridge birthday cakes.
I had progressed to tasting and testing and then upwards to the busy office, where we would source unlikely ingredients and make sure no delivery was ever late. I don’t think Kit or the children ever appreciated what a high powered and stressful job I did, especially in the last half a dozen years with all the world’s troubles affecting supplies.
Our boss likes to look after his staff, it’s why I have stayed so long. I was the first to agree we should hang on to Flinty, the new girl. What I didn’t expect was to become a foster mother.
When the boss said ‘You have a spare room now you’re an empty nester?’
I replied ‘…sort of.’
Flinty had never revealed much about her life and everyone in packing seemed to have heard a different version. Her family lived up north, her mother had gone off to Spain to find herself, her father had just gone off. She was house sharing with uni students, she was house sharing with drug addicts, she was living with her boyfriend’s parents, an aunt had taken her in.
Whatever the truth, it now seemed she was not living anywhere and there was no longer a boyfriend. All she needed was somewhere to sleep for a few nights and HR were going to look into finding her somewhere. She came home with me that evening.
I wasn’t sure how to be a landlady, was I in loco parentis or was she just a lodger? I made us both dinner, thinking of the cosy TV meal I had planned for myself. While it was in the oven I rushed up to Amy’s room and grabbed her personal things and some of the clothes in her wardrobe and stashed everything in Kit’s office that had one been Ben’s bedroom.
Flinty was happy with the room and approved of Amy’s décor. I was thankful I had persuaded Kit last year we should absorb the box room into our bedroom and create an en-suite shower room. Flint was very happy to have exclusive use of the family bathroom.
The next morning we established she would help herself to breakfast, especially as she started work earlier than me. She also assured me that she did not expect me to cook for her and she would ‘sort herself out’.
Over the next few days I realised this meant endless ready meals, mainly eaten in her/Amy’s room. She really wasn’t too much trouble, except for the bin filling up with the ready meal packaging and the washing machine being on when I was in bed. It wasn’t for long, I consoled myself and I only had to call the police once.
I don’t know how the angry ex boyfriend found out where she lived, but she was not pleased to see him, hysterical in fact. The poor neighbours wondered what all the shouting and breaking glass was about and also called the police. We were quite impressed how quickly they turned up. I think old Audrey next door had mentioned guns. The main thing was they took him away and I made coffee for the three of us as the nice woman police officer stayed for a good while. Strangely she had apparently met Flinty before and was surprised I did not know ‘what was going on.’
Flinty retreated to bed as soon as the officer had left. The next morning she sat eating her cereal as if nothing had happened and was soon out the door and off to work.
I checked my phone, not expecting any messages yet from Kit. It was long agreed that I would only hear if there was an emergency when communication was so difficult, so I got a fright when I saw a text message home tonight, broken ankle, don’t worry.
Kit had a charmed life, no harm ever seemed to come to him. At least he wasn’t in hospital and an ankle was hardly the end of the world, but what a time for it to happen. I messaged back to get some idea what time he might arrive, then I had to get myself off to work.
No mention was made of last night’s adventure, if Flinty had told them down in packing, the gossip had not made it upstairs. I got one text from Kit and decided I could just get home before he arrived back.
As I walked up my garden path the front door was flung open, it was not Kit, but Amy.
‘Mum, we’ve had burglars, my room!’
Before I could explain I saw a police car come round the corner followed by a taxi. It was the police woman from last night.
‘Nothing to worry about, this is just a welfare visit.’
Kit was hobbling up the garden path behind her.
Flinty disappeared, she did not return to our house and was never seen at work again. Somehow that made it harder to explain to Kit and Amy what had been going on, when it was as if she had never existed.
The police officer questioned me as if I was hiding her and questioned Amy and Kit as to whether they were involved in ‘all this business.’
Kit questioned Amy as to why on earth she was back so soon. It transpired that she had realised she didn’t like travelling, especially when Lizzie met a chap in the first week and decided to cross the Nullabor Plain with him in his camper van.
Delia had read all the articles and listened to all the broadcasts and podcasts on sleep and health. She had been encouraged to get a Fitbit by her niece who was keen that she should find out her resting heart rate. The Fitbit alas, did not help her sleep more, only confirm that she did not sleep much. However, she persevered with following all the recommendations for winding down in the evening.
That night Delia had turned off the news and switched her television to the radio station broadcasting her regular late night music programmes, Night Waves and Round Midnight… Then she headed upstairs and was in bed and tuned to Radio 4 in time to be lulled by Sailing By heralding the late night Shipping Forecast. Delia pictured seaside places she had stayed and remote coasts she was never likely to see…
North Foreland to Selsey Bill – Strong wind warning
Ardnamurchan Point to Cape Wrath…
Tonight the mellifluous Scottish baritone of her favourite continuity announcer finished the forecast and bade her goodnight with his usual soothing words.
‘And that is the close of Radio Four’s broadcasting tonight. This is Alexander MacSmooth wishing you a safe and peaceful night.
Delia sleepily turned her radio off before the National Anthem could jar her serenity. She snuggled under the duvet, safe from the strong winds and waves pounding the coast…
Delia woke suddenly. It was dark, the radio clock showed 3.15 am, not unusual for her to be awake in the witching hour, but who on earth was frantically ringing her doorbell and what were those blue lights flashing on the ceiling? And who was yelling through a loudspeaker?
‘Emergency, this is the police, you must evacuate immediately. Leave your home now, do not stop to collect belongings.’
It was bizarre, but the only way to find out what was going on was to get wrapped into her velour dressing gown and head for the front door. When she looked outside she was stunned. The nearby streetlight revealed a huge hole where the road had been. Her first thought was ‘Bin Day’ how would she get her recycling bin out of that hole, how would the rubbish truck get down the road when there was no road. Before she could have another thought the street lamp plunged into the crater and the scene was plunged into darkness. A yellow arm grabbed her, at the end of another yellow arm was a powerful torch revealing a crack widening beneath their feet.
In a church hall a mile away Delia and her neighbours gathered round ‘next-door-but-one’ who had managed to grab his iPad on the way out. The live news showed next door’s car slipping into the sink hole and Delia’s front wall crumbling. She didn’t even recognise half her neighbours without their clothes on. They all reintroduced themselves and compared stories as it dawned on them that they would not be going home any time soon, if ever. The only possession Delia had with her was the Fitbit. She wondered what her resting heart rate was.
Luckily I had Elf to help and I’m not going overboard with presents this year.
I am going away tomorrow morning, time to let the blog unwind…
The worst travel weekend of the year?
Whether staying home, going away or avoiding Christmas all together, cards are probably going to be involved. Plenty of people have ceased to send them, especially with the cost of postage. But it is nice to get them. A lot of stress is involved. Are you brave enough to stick to your resolution not to send ANY or do you feel guilty when your ninety year old aunt sends you one? Have you arrived at work, your first Christmas at that job and realised everyone has brought cards and gifts in. Do you monitor incoming cards, save last year’s and make a list of the deserving. You could be ruthless and cut out people you never see or want to see again, hopefully they will stop sending as well.
Did you post your cards and parcels on time? Will you panic and take out a mortgage to buy first class stamps or hope that the recipients will blame the post office when they get cards on the third of January.
Another strange custom is giving cards to neighbours who you see anyway. Though at this time of year it’s too dark to see anybody or they are all rushing round doing Christmassy things. Actually putting cards through doors is fraught with difficulty. If you live in a country with post boxes by the road you miss the fun of venturing up neighbours’ front paths or trying to gain access to their block of flats. This is the only time you get to see what lies behind the high hedge, or peep through a front window. But the aim is to post the card and get away before the neighbour spots you, thus avoiding having to engage in conversation. When you get to the front door you wonder how the postman copes with those awful bristles that trap your hand in the letterbox. If you are really unlucky you will be inches from the door when it suddenly opens and three dogs jump on you, excited to be going out for their walk. Perhaps you can’t find the front door, or it’s a corner house and you can’t work out where the gate is let alone the front door. Then you have to find number ten down the end of the road and post a card on behalf of your elderly neighbour. You don’t know the people and nobody at that end of the road seems to have numbers on their door… Good luck with your card rounds…
Whatever you are doing, enjoy the rest of the year. Who can believe we have a quarter of a century coming soon!
Funny how English borrows from other languages to express thoughts and ideas. Vive la difference sounds much better than ‘long live the difference’. There are lots of differences to amuse us within the English speaking world, especially the words we use, or just local customs. I’m sure we have all had confusing moments visiting or being visited, or even reading a novel set in another country.
‘How long have I got till the shops shut?’
‘About five hours.’
‘I’ve just got to put the salt in the dishwasher’
‘WHAT!’
Which would you put on your dinner?
When I was young I was worried that I was going to get arrested for jaywalking, even though I wasn’t sure what that was. I have since realised that idea must have come from watching American cartoons, perhaps Top Cat? There is no such offence in Britain…
I was reading a novel and very involved in the plot, then the leading character, who seemed to be quite sensible, decided to have biscuits and gravy for breakfast! Had I misread that…
What oddities have you come across in your travels or reading?
Elizabeth sipped her latte gratefully after regaling her three friends with her latest adventures. The Cosy Toastie was the favourite café for their regular coffee mornings. Cheerful young staff served them at the table, a great help and there was plenty of space for their wheeled contraptions. The café was popular with Yummy Mummies and their baby conveyances and helped the senior ladies feel they were getting away from ‘old people.’
‘Lucky you Elizabeth, I wish I had a bachelor son coming to live with me and sort things out.’
‘A divorced son would be just as helpful,’ suggested Abigail ‘not that you would want your son’s marriage to break up just to have help with computer stuff.’
‘It could be a nightmare, look what happened to my poor sister, sixty year old homeless son, made it clear he did not want to be living with his mother. She had his two car wrecks in her driveway and his drum kits in her dining room.’
‘Is he still in that band?’
‘Yes, the audiences are our age.’
‘Might you not get in each other’s way Liz in your dear little cottage’ said Abigail.
Elizabeth ignored the implication that Abigail pitied her for living in a ‘cramped little bungalow’.
‘No, John has his own space, the spare bedroom is comfortable and he is having the back room as his office and sitting room. He works from home now and he’s got his television in there.’
‘Isn’t that where you keep all your craft and art things?’
‘That room did need a good sort out, lots of stuff I don’t use any more with my hands. He put some of the things on the ‘Upcycle’ Facebook page, and took other stuff to the charity shops. It looks quite smart now with the new carpet and book shelves. A suitable background for conference calls.’
‘What do they actually do on conference calls, I’ve always wondered.’
‘No idea, I just have to remember not to barge in the room with cups of tea and keep Mitsy quiet when he’s talking to New York. Not easy when the postman comes and all his Amazon deliveries and she gets in a real state when the Sainsbury delivery comes.’
‘I thought you had Waitrose?’
‘I shall still pop in and get the bits I like, if I can fit them in the fridge, though I think we’re getting a bigger fridge freezer.’
‘Still, it will be nice to have the company, though if he has his own television…’
‘I don’t actually see him that much so I still have my sanctuary in the sitting room, though I can’t get the hang of the new big screen television he said I needed, especially since he got rid of the Virgin box so we could have Sky. As long as he doesn’t get rid of my comfy arm chairs. He said the National Trust would like them they are so ancient. I told him they don’t make good solid furniture like the Victorians did. Reg inherited them from his parents, we had them reupholstered a couple of times. John thinks I should have a recliner.’
‘Is John picking you up?’
‘No, he gave me a lift here, but he’s working now and waiting in for some more deliveries. He went to Ikea yesterday to look around, don’t know what he ordered. I’ll get my taxi, same as usual.’
When the taxi drew up outside Elizabeth’s house she was busy concentrating on getting out of the cab with dignity and positioning herself ready for the driver to bring her wheels round. When she finally looked up she was surprised to see a pile of large cardboard boxes in her narrow driveway. As she squeezed carefully by she read strange names on the boxes that gave no clue as to what might have been inside. Ekolsund, Strandmon, Rocksjon, Landskrona, Klubbfors….
John appeared at the front door.
‘Ah Mother, there you are at last.’
‘I told you what time I would be back.’
‘Don’t worry about all this stuff, Joe’s coming round with his big van to take it all to the tip.’
‘What have you bought this time?’
‘Come inside and see.’
‘Where’s Mitsy?’
‘In the back garden, she got a bit over excited.’
In the hall Elizabeth had a feeling of something being very different. John led her into the sitting room with a grin. She leant on the door frame to steady herself as she tried to take in the sight before her and even wondered if she was in her own home. Where her two small arm chairs had been either side of the fireplace sat two very large bright red chairs and by the window a turquoise seat.
‘One of them is a recliner like you wanted.’
‘I never said I wan…’
‘But it’s just what you need to keep your feet up like the doctor said. Try it and you will love it.’
With some difficulty she hoisted herself onto the wide chair and her son handed her a wire with a remote control attached.
‘Now just press the green button, I mean the orange…’
Her legs shot up and she found herself plunged backwards and subject to G force like an astronaut taking off in a space rocket.
‘Sorry Mother, the orange button makes it recline slowly.’
When she got her breath back she asked him where her old armchairs had gone.
‘Underneath the piles of cardboard, Joe reckons he should be able to fit them in his van.’
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 