The Old Home Town Looks Just the Same...

Funny ole day today.

Went with mum to the Coffee Morning in the Church, where typically she and my aunt talk sex, men, bondage, the normal things that 70 and 80 something ladies discuss. It was the Christmas Coffee morning defined thus by the fact that the church group who were hosting it were all wearing Christmas Hats, or Ears, or tinsel.

As we walked to a seat, I glanced round the room and remembered back to when I was little and we had the Christmas Party there. We played games, we ate, we drank, we sang songs, and then we all had to sit quietly, and watch the upstairs window, and if we sang beautifully, we would hear Santa's Bell, and if we had been really good, Santa would come down for a visit.

As we got to the back of the room, a familiar Bell rang out, and Mum and I looked round to see that Santa himself was attending the coffee morning. What a lovely surprise for everyone there, especially considering that I and Boy's Pal's mum were probably the youngest in the room.

Nant came over from her "girls" (Youngest 60 oldest 90), and said "hello Bill?" and Santa glared at her and said "No, Santa". Then he gave us all a sweetie from his bag and went on his way ringing his bell.

Mum had to run off, because she forgot she was supposed to be listening out for her phone in case Dad Mark 2 needed a lift. When she looked at her phone and saw the five missed calls she reckoned she was needed. Nanty offered to take me home, which she did, after I carried her bags around the town, and then around the supermarket.

I was so exhausted after hanging with these oldies that I had to have another nap when I got home.

I spent a couple of hours in work later on, because I love my work, and wanted to clear a little bit of space on my desk for Monday, on the way home, and doing the drug run, I stopped at the beach in the grey light of dusk, and though. This old place never changes.

And I'm glad.