ZARJAZ!

 Borag thungg, Earthlings!

It's been an odd Christmas, as my family has ceased to collectively celebrate the season with the passing of my Nan and latterly my Mum.

I have always loved Christmas, from my earliest years, but I think I am finally starting to thing 'What's the fucking point?'

 

Christmas Eve, I would go on what became known as 'the mooch', visiting game stores and meeting up with friends for the last time for a few days, when we we would seemingly be so unfairly 'forced' to do what our parents wanted. One last chip butty before an avalanche of comestibles, and maybe get a chance to see the GW girls dressed in something seasonably raunchy - we were young - and generally enjoy that building excitement before the big event.

 

In the evening, there would be a massive buffet at our house - my mother for all her faults, put on a great spread and I could sometimes wangle invited for friends, stuffing ourselves until we were like Mr Creosote.

 

In 1984 a tradition of listening to Peter Gabriel's 'Car' album and playing a Renaissance galley warfare game before they went home, at which point I would make my way up to the home of wargaming legend Steve Roberts, where it seemed there was always a party.

 

Christmas Day saw presents piled high under the tree, from my mum and dad before dinner, usually at my nan's with the whole family (apart from my paternal grandparents usually) and sundry pets sitting down to a solid three courses of good cooking.

 

Afterwards, it was more presents, and when I say 'more' I mean many, many more, and then some R&R time with the amassed loot piles before a buffet tea in the Northern style.

 

Boxing day would see my grandma and grandad Hides drive down from Preston, where they moved to in the early 70s (my Grandfather being a senior draughtsman with GEC who were based in Mordor)and more presents and back to my nan's for three more courses, card games, celebration and a lot of fun.

 

The 27th saw a family outing into town and the obligatory visits to Redgates (not a toy shop, more a temple to childhood) and Beaties models, where my nan, who despite spending a lot of money already, would have cannily stashed away some money for the sales whichg started, and I would normally come home with more model railway stuff, action men or other 'high value asset'.

 

Boxing day evening, we would go to my auntie Sylvia's house and we'd meet up with uncles, aunts and cousins and do some more partying.

 

And so, this would carry on until New Years Eve, which would be a repeat of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

 

These days, I am the eldest in my family, and looking down the barrel of mortality, noting two shells loaded for Mark and Christmas has disintegrated.

 

My daughter and son-in-law are simply not interested in visiting, my sister and her husband estranged themselves from the family some years ago, and my brother has decided he no longer likes Christmas, but to be fair, he likes very little.

 

Our grandsons get the same lavishing of presents as I did, but they lack the context and we don't get the joy of seeing their faces as they open them.

 

Getting a 'thank you' in person is almost unheard of and frankly folks, I am really starting to wonder why I should bother with a family who seem like distant relatives rather than flesh and blood.

I have to say, I am pretty ashamed. 

 

Kayte and I worked hard with very little to get where we are now, and even when we had nothing, our family never had second best, or wanted for anything.

 

We were firm but fair - maybe too fair at times - parents. 

 

We never went cap in hand to family, even when I was on the verge of bankruptcy and they could have helped save Dungeons & Starships - the best job I ever had.

 

Were my grandparents still alive, they would be outraged and ashamed of what their descendants have become. I dare say that each Christmas, they spin like small sand storms in their urns.

 

To have family a few minutes away and feel alone, is awful.

 

Well, I have ruminated on this for a while now, and there you go. 

 

Many of you know me as a pretty solid, 'go to' guy. But I suffer depression (no, not a cry for help) and melancholy, and I'm terribly prone to introspection. But, at 56, I am dreading the future and the possibilty of being neglected unless the bank of Mark is open.

 

I am not naturally gregarious despite outward impressions, and I choose my friends carefully. If you are a friend, it's because I see something in you that makes me want to know you, or we have shared memories and experiences which have created unbreakable bonds. 

 

I don't have time and love to waste on people who I have little or no connection with. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but it'd be a waste of my time and theirs and I think rather disingenuous.

 

And so, on Christmas Day, the Memsahib and I sat with our feet up, cold buffet (a classic) made up of meats freshly and loving cooked by your correspondent on Christmas Eve, whilst the Memsahib went to see her Mum - a regular fixture. We watched the excellent 1984 children's TV series 'The Box Of Delights'. A return for me, but Kayte had never seen it and was duly impressed enough that it is now to become an annual event.

Boxing Day, saw us out for lunch at the rather excellent Devonshire Arms at Baslow, with it's splendid white oak and glass dining room.

The 27th saw the annual Christmas game, a massive fantasy game using only mounted and quadruped troops, with over 300 Wolves and Wolf Riders, with a mac 'n' cheese lunch, again prepared (with much complaint from Kayte who loves to cater for things) by your correspondent.

The forces of Evil walked all over their foes... Despite the bloodshed, everyone enjoyed the day, most having driven 2-3 hours in what was horrendous fog.

As I watched the 1984 Top Of The Pops Christmas Special on Christmas Day evening, I purchased a lovely lot of 1980s 40K Eldar including Harlequins, weapons platforms and 'bog standard' Eldar as well as a Space Zoat! The price was a fair one, and I may actually paint them myself... Will wonders never cease?

Yesterday, having done a small amount (not as much as I may have liked) of haggling and purchased a considerably large and nicely painted 30K Horus Heresy army:

 

Given that there's around £1500 of bare models, the £950 price tag was fair. I'm off to Warhammer World today to find a few more bits and pieces.

I mentioned I think, that I am going to try and draw the curtain on 45 years of buying and collecting, with a self-imposed spending limit?

Well, I am now seeking that mythical 'perfect period' for my final large historical spend. I've got an order going in to Navwar this week, for some ACW, Renaissance and WW2 naval miniatures and rules, to recapture some Old School vibes from my earliest days and indeed to reinstate the annual Peter Gabriel & Galleys tradition.

I've become a bit of a Dandy once more, over the last year and I'm a devotee of Joe Browns stylings. Having bought several leather jackets and the odd shirt so far, I decided to add a few more choice items to the wardrobe:

Add these to the Timex Marlin manual watch depicting the Peanuts gang in an animated snow storm, several shirts and jeans, from the memsahib, I am once again strutting my peacock stuff after several years of trying to blend into the background. Why not? You get one life to live, and live it I shall in my own way...

I was, this morning reading the very first 2000AD annual from Christmas 1977, having bought myself the full set as a present to try to recapture the thrill of the annual annual, being in my youth one of the Squaxx Dek Thargo in good standing:

And I was shocked to see how 'on the ball' this kid's weekly was back then:

Anyway, as this is, I think the last post of the year, I pondered on what gift I could give you all and decided on the greatest gift of all...

Me of course, tastefully tied with a bow.

TTFN and splundig vur thrigg to you all!