Take A Moment Santa's on his way!

Inside A Huddle – Developing Your Writer’s Voice

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Jonny

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Mar 1, 2020
Hope we're all being good girls and boys as Santa's on his way and he knows if you're not.

I'm certainly being a good boy as I want him to bring my nice new reference monitors and slicing mandolin, not a lump of coal and horse crap.

See him at work now in real time as he flies around the globe on his sleigh. If you have young kids or grandkids in your family they'd likely love this site which runs every year.


And no, I certainly haven't spent the last 15 minutes watching Santa's progress.
 
Apparently he was last seen in Haikou, China. How he'll be at my house in time for tomorrow morning, I don't know. I'm just glad I didn't ask for much from him this year. It doesn't look like I'd get it. Next year, I'll send my letter to Yodel.

Bah H Bug.

:rolling-on-the-floor-laughing:
 
How he'll be at my house in time for tomorrow morning, I don't know.

He's Santa. He's got superpowers and can drop off gazillions of presents, including for example new Ferraris, AND just from inside that little sack perched on the back of his sleigh. You just gotta believe. He's already Yangon Burma. Next stop, Bognor Regis.
 
They do sound it. Quite Tolkienesque. I bet bad things happen there.
 
@Emily I just had a look and he’s in Limoges now. He’ll be here in an hour or so.

I’m just doing a few speedy decades at my bedside, quick sprinkle from the font then tucking myself up.

He won’t leave my presents if I’m not sound asleep.;)
 
Did the full rosary a while ago, bitta Mejdugorje Holy Water (the Good Stuff) flicked at all foreheads... Just hiding under the covers now counting down the hours until it's acceptable to check my stocking!! Heard some rummaging around on the rooftop, but no sudden "Arggggghhhhhh" or loud thump, so the slippery roof tiles didn't send him flying (whew). He must be a good halfway around by now :)
 
After reading your post last night, Emily, I woke up this morning thinking about Holy Water and a distant memory came back to me.

We always had a stash in the house. I seem to remember it was stored in an old salad cream bottle and transferred, when necessary, into a little dipping font from which The Da would indeed 'flick our foreheads' as he made sure we were all safely tucked up in bed of a night.

And now before you start offering up novenas for the salvation of our blackened and tarnished souls, obviously the bottle itself had been steralised and blessed before being being used for such a pious purpose. :)

Ah... happy and more innocent days.
 
Barbara, hope you are in your fleecy jammies and have your stocking hanging... He's in Copenhagen... Quick!! Get to bed!!
Emily, you'll be pleased to know I was a good girl and already in bed when you posted that.

Santa update:

Much rummaging on the roof (same as at @Emily's), but no slippage. Instead, there was much swearing. I'm fairly sure I heard him say, 'Effing Sat Nav. Effing chimney effing bricked up'. I got up this morning to check my stocking. Found a note 'Left at No 57.' .... only, there is no No 57 in my street. Note also said 'Ho ho ho.' I toured the neighbourhood. Found the parcel at No27. A massive box. Took it home. Opened it. Lots of airbubble packaging. Underneath all the packaging, a lovely pair of socks.

:D
 
The perfect Christmas gift. What more could you want, well except maybe a bone saw and a claw hammer? ;):) :christmas-tree::christmas-tree:
 
After reading your post last night, Emily, I woke up this morning thinking about Holy Water and a distant memory came back to me.

We always had a stash in the house. I seem to remember it was stored in an old salad cream bottle and transferred, when necessary, into a little dipping font from which The Da would indeed 'flick our foreheads' as he made sure we were all safely tucked up in bed of a night.

And now before you start offering up novenas for the salvation of our blackened and tarnished souls, obviously the bottle itself had been steralised and blessed before being being used for such a pious purpose. :)

Ah... happy and more innocent days.
(as I wait for dinner to cook, I'll tell you about Nurse Brennan and her Holy Water)
Nurse Brennan was a "Jubilee Nurse", (like a retired community nurse), so in the days when you only went to the doctor when you were mostly dead, you went to Nurse Brennan for everything else. In her tiny entrance hall, she had a table with a crocheted cloth, festooned with holy miraculous medals and prayer cards, and in the middle of it was a big mayonnaise jar of Holy Water. On the front of it, Nurse B had stuck a piece of bandaid with "Holy Water +" and wherever it came from underneath (providence being important!!! Knock, Medjugorje, Lourdes). Before you went into the house, you were doused in water and if you dared leave without a good handful, you'd be hauled back in, and get a telling off (and extra holy water splashed on you) (and a little plastic bottle of holy water to take away and a scapular wrapped around your neck to make sure you stayed "on the right track").

When she died, (aged 97) my mother was helping to clear out her home. She filled ELEVEN black sacks (I kid you not) of little plastic holy water bottles, and another of miraculous medals and rolls of bandaid. I still have bottles of her holy water (one from 40 years ago!!) with the bandaid still intact :)
 
Ha ha! You ought to write that situation up into something.

We had ‘em too, those wee bottles in the guise of Our Blessed Lady - the screw lid being her crown.

Young Jonny lived out his childhood under the watchful gaze of The Scared Heart pic. Mind, we didn’t go the whole hog with the red light below it.

Nevertheless, we were suitably terrified and lived into our mid-teens in a state of perpetual guilt and chronic uneasiness.

I am ashamed to say we got bought an identical one as a house warming gift. I was by then so mentally scarred, that it never found its way onto the wall and lived quite happily below our bed until we moved when it was sadly lost in all the kerfuffle.

Aye, them were the days.
 
There’s no holy water in my flat, though I’m quite partial to a Baileys atm
I've a handsome stash of holy water, all of different vintage, complete with bandaid labels (wouldn't be holy water without it) (I bet that's why Bob Geldof called his band Bandaid... He was trying to think of a suitable name whilst staring at the Sacred Heart picture - with the red light- and the jar of holy water with the bandaid label below); and an equally handsome stash of Baileys. And port. And hazelnut vodka. They coexist remarkably well!
 
@Jonny, a friend of mine posted this and I thought of you. We knew a woman (Ma Hughes) and she had a (one of many) Sacred Heart, with a plug-in red light, above the kettle. It kept short circuiting. How it didn't burn down the house, I'll never know.
 

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