For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
Has the festive spirit landed wherever you are yet? Are you ready for Christmas? Bought all the presents, got the tree up, made your Christmas pudding?
It's geting colder here and although no sign of snow on the East coast of Scotland, I've got a feeling its coming our way. The temperature is dropping nicely, Jack Frost is flexing his muscles in the morning, and the snow is falling on the hills to the north. I can't remember the last time we had a white Christmas here, but whilst it would be nice, its not a deal breaker is it?
And of course Santa is coming! At least that's what I told my little niece this weekend. She's really excited and is at that age where the whole thing is just one big, happy, red and white mystery. Already her parents have had to explain why there are so many "Santa's" in the town shopping malls, and she's only 3 years old!
Oh I really hope the mystery stays alive for many more years. I don't know these days when the big secret is let out. Are kids about seven or eight? Perhaps younger? When did you find out?
Here's another story about when the truth came out. This friend is from Australia and was truly aminated over her G&T as she remembered....
Keep him in the family
“I found out about Santa from my cousin. We were playing in the yard at his house – playing "tag". I must have been about six and he would be a couple of years older than me. As we were tagging each other he whispered to me that Santa wasn’t real. Of course I didn’t believe him, in fact I don’t think I believed I really heard him. He said it again and I just stopped playing. I looked over at him and told him I didn’t believe him - who else could it be if it wasn't Santa?. When he started tagging me again, he told me it was my Dad and Mum who were Santa.
That was the final straw! It was funny really, I got so panicky. I ran back to my house to tell Mum. I was short of breath and kind of panting out this story about what a liar my cousin was. I have such a clear memory of this its wierd. We were standing int he kitchen and she has such a shocked look on her face – it was just so out of the blue. She told me my cousin was right, that Santa wasn't real.
Can you imagine the look on my face? I was standing there, mouth wide open, jaw almost to the floor!
Now don’t have a go at my Mum. Please. (she's laughing at this point, clearly noting the horror on my face that her Mum could be so matter-of-fact about it all).
She didn’t blow the whole deal there and then. Instead, she told me there was no Santa Claus for people like my cousin! She told me that my cousin was right in a way, in that Santa didn’t visit homes like ours because we were fortunate to have some money in the bank. Because not everyone was as fortunate, he visited children like my cousin! D’you know, put like that, it sounds like its means tested!
I ran back to my cousin’s yard and told him he was right. I didn’t say any more than that because I didn’t want to spoil it for him. I'm a nice cousin aren't I?”
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Friday, December 08, 2006
And hopefully the last time.....holiday disaster memory
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
This is another spine tingling, "touch wood" story that you really hope never happens to you. So for my friend here, she really hopes this is the last time this happens when she's going on holiday. Somehow I doubt she'll ever let it happen again!
Passport horror
“I was going on holiday to Cyprus with my husband a couple of years ago. We set off for the airport in plenty time and got there around the 2 hour check in.
I was standing at the check in desk when I noticed the look on the girl's face behind the counter. She then leant across to a colleague at the next desk. I couldn't hear what was being said but thought how rude it was for her to do that when she had a customer in front of her. Then a little shiver ran down my spine and I just got this feeling when I she began to speak to me.
"I'm sorry I can't check you in, did you know your passport expired 6 months ago?"
Well, you can imagine my horror.
“What!” I said "you've got to be joking, I have other ID, please let me on the plane!"
Of course, she couldn't do that. She said she could check my husband in and I could then join him in Cyprus on a later flight. I asked when the next flight was. It wasn't until the next day! Just as well my husband said he wouldn't go without me!
We raced over to the administration desk.
"Don't worry" the woman there said, “it happens all the time. You need to get yourself to the passport agency in town and request another passport to be issued. You've got plenty of time."
We jumped the queue for the taxis, screaming "emergency!" It's funny, I had a feeling of pure calm on the taxi ride – Harry meanwhile was panicking – "We'll have to cancel, we'll have to cancel. Why didn't you check your passport?".
The thing is, I never check it. I always believed that when I changed my passport to my married name three years before, that it would automatically change to another ten year passport. So in my view I had plenty of time before it expired.
Harry was sweating, his face was getting more flushed as the clock tick tocked away.
We got to the passport office, which fortunately was open (you never know when these places shut early). I explained the hurry and the man behind the counter got us more frustrated because he was so laid back.
"I can't promise anything” he said, “there are a few people in the office getting passports done today. Go and take your photos anyway".
That done, I filled out the forms and paid something like £45 for the application. I had no cheque book and they didn't take switch – I was cleaned out of British money. How would we pay for the taxi back to the airport?.
The airport staff were great actually. The administration desk phoned us twice to check how we were getting on and advised us that they'd keep the check-in desk open for our return. We eventually got the passport and ran to flag down a cab. Then we had to ask him to stop via a cashline machine so we could pay him!. Back at the airport we had twenty minutes before boarding. We'd made it! Photo looked terrible mind you.”
This is another spine tingling, "touch wood" story that you really hope never happens to you. So for my friend here, she really hopes this is the last time this happens when she's going on holiday. Somehow I doubt she'll ever let it happen again!
Passport horror
“I was going on holiday to Cyprus with my husband a couple of years ago. We set off for the airport in plenty time and got there around the 2 hour check in.
I was standing at the check in desk when I noticed the look on the girl's face behind the counter. She then leant across to a colleague at the next desk. I couldn't hear what was being said but thought how rude it was for her to do that when she had a customer in front of her. Then a little shiver ran down my spine and I just got this feeling when I she began to speak to me.
"I'm sorry I can't check you in, did you know your passport expired 6 months ago?"
Well, you can imagine my horror.
“What!” I said "you've got to be joking, I have other ID, please let me on the plane!"
Of course, she couldn't do that. She said she could check my husband in and I could then join him in Cyprus on a later flight. I asked when the next flight was. It wasn't until the next day! Just as well my husband said he wouldn't go without me!
We raced over to the administration desk.
"Don't worry" the woman there said, “it happens all the time. You need to get yourself to the passport agency in town and request another passport to be issued. You've got plenty of time."
We jumped the queue for the taxis, screaming "emergency!" It's funny, I had a feeling of pure calm on the taxi ride – Harry meanwhile was panicking – "We'll have to cancel, we'll have to cancel. Why didn't you check your passport?".
The thing is, I never check it. I always believed that when I changed my passport to my married name three years before, that it would automatically change to another ten year passport. So in my view I had plenty of time before it expired.
Harry was sweating, his face was getting more flushed as the clock tick tocked away.
We got to the passport office, which fortunately was open (you never know when these places shut early). I explained the hurry and the man behind the counter got us more frustrated because he was so laid back.
"I can't promise anything” he said, “there are a few people in the office getting passports done today. Go and take your photos anyway".
That done, I filled out the forms and paid something like £45 for the application. I had no cheque book and they didn't take switch – I was cleaned out of British money. How would we pay for the taxi back to the airport?.
The airport staff were great actually. The administration desk phoned us twice to check how we were getting on and advised us that they'd keep the check-in desk open for our return. We eventually got the passport and ran to flag down a cab. Then we had to ask him to stop via a cashline machine so we could pay him!. Back at the airport we had twenty minutes before boarding. We'd made it! Photo looked terrible mind you.”
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