The Onset of a heavy Nose bleed early on Christmas Eve saw me packed off to bed with my nose plugged, under strict instructions from the doctor that I was not to be allowed to watch the new television lest I enjoyed myself.
Under no circumstances was I to laugh or become over excited, thus pre-empting the onset of another nosebleed. As it turned out, there really was very little for the good doctor to be concerned about.
Christmas morn, gifts exchanged, mother was happy and sang
‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’
Singing with gusto, Whilst she brushed and and cleaned finally disinfecting the lavatory.
For the greater part my Christmas Day was spent plumped up upon pillows and proudly insisting on wearing my new Sheepskin Gloves whilst reading ‘Two Years Before the Mast’. Beside me, in the green whicker chair, sucking noisily on small wooden forkfuls of sweet sticky date, sat my Grandmother surrounded by curling tangerine peel and nutshells. Beneath the bedroom door the flickering blue light played as the electronic glee eminating from the distant TV filtered through to my bedside just as a trickle of warm blood from my nose ran down onto my new sheepskin gloves. In an effort to staunch the flow of blood from my nose my Grandmother dropped cold keys down my back whilst pushing squares of turkish delight into her mouth leaving the top of my head covered in a layer of white icing sugar.
