We have over the years had a tradition of a Christmas Eve outing. It used to be the panto or some other Christmas show and we are fortunate to live near to several theatres so it was always just a walk away. As Bryn and Nye got older it became harder to find a more grown up Christmas show but there were a few. Sometimes it was a cinema trip in stead. Finding a film we all enjoyed was harder than finding theatre for children. In more recent years the escape room has been our Christmas Eve outing and we all continue to enjoy it. There is puzzling and a little luck and helpful hints, if you are stuck. This year we were in a Sherlock themed place where the room had books, old furniture, a mantle piece and chess. No spoilers though so I can’t tell you any of the puzzles. We were Sherlock’s enemy, stealing his deerstalker to plant somewhere and incriminate him. Does Bryn look evil personified in the deerstalker?
I know I am biased but I don’t think Bryn is a baddie. On the way to the escape room he stopped to give money to someone begging. I enjoy the time together with them on these outings. I know they are an extravagance but the pleasure of it is often greater than the gifts. If we couldn’t afford it some other togetherness activity would do, but having a booked event makes it happen. e had also booked a lovely Christmas Eve lunch at an Indian tapas place, and another pleasure in life is not just enjoying the food myself but seeing my once fussy eaters extend their range and enjoy sharing the varied dishes together – we all liked all of them. By a strange stroke of luck we got an extra nan and it all got polished off.
On the way home we passed another homeless person slumped over. Bryn again stopped to give money. It is at times like these that I again regret not carrying cash.
A little further on we saw smoke emerging from a bin. There were no flames but you never know what is in a bin. After some deliberation I decided to phone the fire brigade. I did explain it didn’t seem major but they said they would attend. Meantime someone at the bus stop told me they had asked someone at the betting shop, which was the identifier I had given to the fire service of where on Lothian Road to find the fire, to get some water. A young woman appeared with a large jug of water a few moments later and poured it into the bin.
Now the fire service really don’t look required, but they are on their way and are there in a couple of minutes as the fire station is very near. They decide to put a bucket of water in too just in case, and they fill it from their large hose. I am surprised they still have buckets, old fashioned metal buckets too, in these high tech days. Perhaps it was nothing needing their help but it could have been worse and clearly the fire service were not rushed off their feet and didn’t mind coming. They would have been out and back at base in much less time than it took us to escape from 221b Baker Street and we thought we were pretty quick! Anyway I felt more sure it was extinguished and had recently read of a boat that went on fire from its christmas lights left on after a day out. No one was aboard but the boat was destroyed and had only recently been renovated. Other boaters had managed to push the boat away from the others, using kayaks, so the fire didn’t spread. It was a timely reminder of how fire could ruin Christmas, and lights are the main cause. Back on Lothian Road the girl at the betting shop might have felt happier that her efforts were pretty close to what the fire service did and the lady at the bus stop enjoyed watching the firemen, so all was well there.
During the fire escapade, Bryn and Nye had headed back along the road. They had stopped beside the homeless person, who now looked like a woman as her head was lifted. Bryn was bent over talking to her. Then Shane and I saw Bryn walking across the road with her and Nye waiting by her small pile: sheets, a pillow and a bag of belongings.
We guessed Bryn was taking her to a supermarket to buy her stuff. Nye was making sure no-one took her things while she was away. We checked in with Nye and he said we could carry on. Bryn had just been worried that she hadn’t lifted her head as he put money in her bag so thought he should check on her. She had roused when spoken to and said she was hoping to get into a hostel that night. At the shop she chose coffee, some food, hygiene products and a Christmas card for her mum. I cannot imagine her circumstances. She has family but obviously is not spending Christmas with them, but is still thinking of them.
It certainly makes you count your blessings. We had a warm home and plenty of food, a tree – with plenty of presents, once I had got the wrapping done. That and making stuffing from “grandpa’s recipe” were my Christmas Eve jobs.
Christmas day used to be stressful but with everyone pitching in to the meal it was smooth and easy, even when the shelf bracket came off the side of the oven while we were shuffling shelves to make space in the hot oven. Bryn dealt with replacing it calmly while I held the hot shelf and neither of us got burned, or cross.
Bryn and I had shopped for vegetables at the local organic shop. He had wanted to make the festive and colourful braised red cabbage dish. He had prepared it ahead of time and also liked that the shop had multicoloured carrots. We were surprised by the beetroot when we cut into them, like sweets, and candy canes.
While Bryn and I did vegetables and table setting, Nye took charge of the turkey. Shane had prepared bread sauce and it all felt calm and worked out well, and all very tasty. Fewer people and more helpers, with shopping as well as cooking, had made it very much easier for me.
We exchanged presents after dinner and it was a surprise to discover Shane and I had each bought books in the Thursday Murder Club series for each other. We have both read the first two in the series and as luck would have it we had bought each other the third and fourth books. We hadn’t discussed getting the next in the series at all and having indepentently thought of it could easily have bought the same one.
Bryn, Shane and I decided to have a walk and went down to the canal. By the time we returned it was dark but the canal is well lit. I am not often there after dark and hadn’t seen the red lights, not intended for Christmas, but festive all the same. Christmas can be a lonely time for some people or a time with sad memories, or a time with nothing to celebrate with. We are fortunate indeed.
