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Well i guess i'll ad lib most of this as being a blog virgin i will have no idea where this will go, but as the title says When Christmas isn't Christmas...I'll see where this ends up...

Yesterday afternoon as i lay down trying to catch a few hours before i did the last night shift before Christmas (I finished at 6am this morning!), i dreamt of the good MrsUKY crying, i woke up to deep sobbing, things have been quite good here lately, i took my old job back, got my US immigrant visa ...

We all arrived at school that morning and it seemed strange to me that my Uncle Jack’s flag was half way down the flag pole. As usual we all tore about like mad things, screaming that last scream of the day and kicking tennis balls or anything else we could find. Somewhat unusually, Mr K stepped out of the door, a bell clasped in his strong hand and he immediately set about ringing it. At the same time he shouted:

“Quiet! Quiet! Have some respect for His Majesty!” ...

Just down the road from our first little cottage stood the Church Hall. At the opposite end of the street was a Wesleyan Chapel. Our first little football pitch was on the patch of grass between the two of them. You’d have thought I would have got the God message, but I never did.

I only got involved with religion because each of them – church and chapel ran a healthy Sunday School. When I say healthy, I mean the kids used go there to run about like mad things in the absence of ...

It’s Christmas again and a time for families to get together. Over the years I have come to notice that the most important thing about it is the chance for kids to feel that they are loved and part of a family. There is nothing quite like blood and the reassurance that all is well in your own little world.

In the years following the end of World War II, in which my father claimed to have distinguished himself by keeping a careful check on the store of toilet rolls and sundry items ...

Jonquil was from my side of the tracks – except that soon there would be no railway tracks in our area thanks to that visionary of modern transport Dr Richard Beeching. Anyway, Jonquil had a big brother who also liked sports and their mother was a grand lady who welcomed all into her comfortably untidy home. They had dinner at midday and tea at about 6 o’clock in the evening. If you were still lucky enough to be there at about 10 O’clock, they shared their supper. A proper home. I longed to ...