During these last few snow-sprinkled days I have been gadding about Hackney in my fake fur Russian hat. There’s something about snow which calls for glamour, even in Hackney.
Really I should be doing a Part Two to my first Christmas Post. But then I ask myself, does anyone care about my time swap with my sister and the coffee chocolates I’ll never get round to making this Christmas? The answer is probably, like fuck they will. I’ve definitely moved on from my Mumsy Christmas phase. Sorry about that folks - normal service has now resumed. Now, you might know that I am a stinge bag when it comes to my son and presents; so it will come as no surprise to you that this is genuinely what I’ll be making him this Christmas.
Get yourself an empty water bottle. Fill it with nonsense: old buttons, broken necklaces, rubber bands, things from Christmas crackers that are lying in your messy draw. Give it to your child to shake. Watch their delighted little faces.
Reminder: he is one and easily pleased. For children up to eighteen I suggest a large cardboard box.
Now to the angel at the top of my tree……
London City Mum suggested that said angel is a fertility symbol. If this is so, I didn’t realise it. It was purchased many years ago from an Oxfam shop for 70p. I have always loved it.
To cut a long story short, when I was 24, I went to build a house in the Caribbean with Mr. Wasted Years. Because of our immigration status we had to come home for a short period every six months. I left this statue in our house to safeguard it but I didn’t see it again for many years because I never went back.
Recently I had the urge to be reunited with the statue. Mr. Wasted Years (a white, middle-class man, since you ask) got married (to a West Indian woman while we’re on the subject) and mutual friends went out for the celebrations. I asked them if the statue still existed and if so, would they bring it back? So, a couple of weeks later the statue and I were reunited. I haven’t quite found her a permanent, child-proof home yet, but I thought that after being separated for seven years she should be given pride of place on our tree where she can watch over us all.
Recently I had the urge to be reunited with the statue. Mr. Wasted Years (a white, middle-class man, since you ask) got married (to a West Indian woman while we’re on the subject) and mutual friends went out for the celebrations. I asked them if the statue still existed and if so, would they bring it back? So, a couple of weeks later the statue and I were reunited. I haven’t quite found her a permanent, child-proof home yet, but I thought that after being separated for seven years she should be given pride of place on our tree where she can watch over us all.
If only statues could talk……..
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I have a similar one at home and bought it from a friend who lived in Lagos for a while and had brought them back with her to the UK.
ReplyDeleteShe is the one who told me it was a fertility symbol... and I guess she was right as I went from zero to 3 (marginally unplanned) sprogs in the years that followed.
But appropriate place for it I think, adorning your tree!
LCM x
p.s. and love the hat
Fantastic ! You and your angel are reunited !
ReplyDeleteLove your blog Please keep it up
Oh great idea , my son loves shaken anything. Would be little afraid of him finding his way into the contents though.
ReplyDeleteI am stingy at Christmas to, while it may appear my childre are getting alot i have infact bought them mainly clothes (from ebay) that they need he he he
Love the bottle idea. Considering my son is getting a stocking stuffed full of matchbox cars that I found when cleaning up my daughters bedroom today, I think he'd like a bottle of sparkly things.
ReplyDelete