I am and always have been, terribly nostalgic. It’s the Cancerian in me. Even the most innate objects are treasured souvenirs. The coat my husband hates so much? I saved my Megabowl wages up to buy it almost half my life ago. How can I ever part with it? Tickets, birthday cards, out of date passports, hospital bracelets, clothes that don’t even fit now…some would call it hoarding but we Cancerians just love collecting memories. Little bits of treasure. I think this is why I love photography so much – capturing a moment to keep forever. I have always loved looking at photographs and even as a child I could spend literally hours looking through old photo albums and reliving that time. This is also where I think my love of vintage things comes in. All the photos of my parents in their flares and cheesecloth.
We Cancerians (apparently) are prone to romantic reminiscing and fantasising and that’s a pretty spot on description of my yearly “THIS CHRISTMAS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST ONE EVER!” insanity. I grew up in a family that LOVE Christmas. My mother is OCD about her Christmas trees (yes, plural) and just puts her heart and soul into making it wonderful for everyone. I have the best memories of Christmas as a child and it’s something I really want to recreate for my own children. I want it to be magical, like a Christmas film! Only my kids didn’t get the memo. Instead of beautiful wooden toys, they want obnoxious plastic shit that flashes. They didn’t get gifts like that in the old black & whites. Remember the part in Miracle On 34th Street when the baby knocked the tree over? Me either. I proudly announced to my mum that I had a new Christmas tradition (!!!!) idea, to let the children choose ornaments for the tree every year and when they grew up, they could have them to put on their own tree. That’s lovely, right? We’ll be lucky if any of them survive. Three times she’s had that tree over. THREE TIMES. Next year I’m buying fabric decorations.
This is the kind of thing I had in mind
We took the children to a Christmas Fayre at the weekend and Beloved did a stint in the grotto. He’s a very good Father Christmas, the thespian that he is. The Urchin (who announced that he is now a helpful elf) loved being in on the secret (kids are too clever so we figured there was no point trying to fool him) and was really excited to look around the stalls while I got drunk (just kidding!). We decided to explore the woods and build some dens while we waited for Daddy…5 minutes in and he’s crying, “I fell over and then I accidentally ate some dirt”. Of course you did.
“He talks to the animals…” I couldn’t stop thinking of Rod Hull’s Emu so we didn’t stick around for long