Christmas was originally a pagan festival, created to bring much-needed light into to the darkest, gloomiest time of the year.  So, it’s no coincidence that every December, theatres around the UK are ablaze with colour and spectacle thanks to that over-the-top, audience-pleasing entertainment … pantomime.

This year, after a couple of false dawns due to (a) you know what in 2020 and (b) you know who (here in Wales) in 2021, panto is back and bigger than ever.
Audiences, despite our current economic woes, are desperate to have some family-friendly fun in a packed theatre for a couple of hours and enter a world of Dames, heroes and villains, fairies, giants, genies and a deluge of daft jokes.  Oh…and an ice cream during the intermission!

The pantos at the Swansea Grand and Cardiff’s New Theatre are doing well, as are Owen Money’s perennially popular peripatetic productions…which sounds like a tongue-twister taken directly from one of them.

Stars have always been a big draw for pantos from the days of Dan Leno and 100 years ago, panto stars often requested that titles of songs they were known for were included in the script…even if they had to be shoe-horned in.
The great music hall singer Florrie Forde always insisted that the title of her latest song was used as the cue line into the song itself.  So, when she starred in “Robin Hood” she’d say “We must find the Babes In The Wood. Even if we have to travel as far as…Valencia!” at which point the orchestra would strike up the first notes of “Valencia”, which Florrie would proceed to sing to her adoring fans.

Another music hall entertainer, Gertie Gitana (the lady who originally made the song ‘Nellie Deane’ famous), got away with something even more outrageous when she played “Cinderella”.  Alone and cold in the kitchen of Hardup Hall, after the Ugly Sisters had gone to the ball without her, she’d sigh and say…
“Here I am, all alone.  “I think I’ll play my saxophone!”  She’d reach up into the chimney, produce the instrument and, accompanied by the orchestra, go into her act for 15 minutes!

Let ‘em try and top that at the Swansea and Cardiff pantos!

The annual visit to the attic to bring down the decorations was always an interesting one.  Why do we keep so much stuff up there?

I don’t know about you, but there are things up there that I’d forgotten about, didn’t know I had, or haven’t used for years.  Things that I will probably never even use again and also things I don’t think I have ever used before.  What’s the point of keeping such items up there?

Have I become a ‘hoarder’?

So, as you can see, yet again I have discovered another bad habit that needs dealing with.

Now then – the Antiques Road Show series often had people on with items that they had found up the attic.   Not all the items found were valuable treasures, but many were interesting and had a good story behind them.
Therefore, with this in mind as I de-clutter in the New Year my mind will be focusing on the back story relating to the junk in my attic, which in all fairness could be more valuable than the items themselves.   Watch this space.

That we have problems with the NHS is undeniable.  But let me tell you about one incident that shows that when it works it’s a fantastic asset to the UK.

A friend of mine lives in a town nestled ‘twixt Cardiff and Chepstow.
I needn’t paint you a picture for you to know the place to which I’m referring.
Besides, where would you put it if I went to the time and trouble of painting one for you?  Your walls are currently covered in Christmas cards, tinsel and baubles!

I suppose you could hang it in the loo.  But that would be an insult to my artistic…where was I?

A couple of Sundays ago, my friend’s wife – let’s call her Molly for no other reason than it might make her smile – started coughing, shivering and felt feverish.  Molly took the usual flu relief tablets, went to bed and woke up on the Monday feeling slightly better.  But by the afternoon she rapidly went downhill, wheezing, weak and nauseous. Then she started to cough up spots of blood.   Reluctant, as we all are right now, to call an ambulance to attend A & E, she asked her husband to call their GP surgery for advice.  When he got through, their advice was to call the NHS helpline.  He did so and eventually Molly was able to speak to a very helpful call handler who said a doctor would call back in a few hours.  This was around 4.30 pm.

Just after 10 that evening, by which time Molly was feeling worse, a different call handler phoned back to apologise for the delay in a doctor phoning, explaining that the service was incredibly busy.  Just 11pm a clinician phoned and was very thorough in her questions about Molly’s condition and said she’d pass the information on to a doctor who would call soon.
The doctor phoned around two am and suggested my friend should drive his wife to A& E. Although he doesn’t drive, their daughter, who was aware of the situation and worried sick, had insisted that if Molly had to go to hospital she would drive her and they should phone her whatever time it was.  However, when my friend hesitated about Molly being taken to A&E, the doctor said if they preferred he could arrange a home visit – which took my friend aback as he didn’t know these still happened.

Long story short, around 4 am, an excellent, reassuring doctor arrived, examined Molly and diagnosed pneumonia. She gave Molly seven day’s supply of antibiotics and currently she’s recovering, albeit slowly, while waiting for an X-ray appointment.

This is an example of how, when it works in a joined-up manner, the NHS is an incredibly professional, caring organisation.  May I raise a glass and propose a pre-Christmas toast…

“To our National Health, ladies and gentlemen!”

Why don’t Christmas shoppers really look like they do in the adverts on TV?

Smiling families, matching jumpers and scarves, calmly strolling around the shops, snow gently falling around the town (they never seem to carry ANY bags though, have you noticed?)

Now, here is the reality . . .

The city centre is packed, people all walking in different directions (always the opposite way to me), there are men being dragged around shops they obviously don’t want to be in, children are screaming . . . all surrounded by the same jolly Christmas music in every shop.

Then we have department stores doubling up as saunas.

It’s freezing outside, so you have to wrap up, but as soon as you walk into a shop it hits you like one of the other half’s midlife flushes!

Oh yes – you can relate to this, can’t you?

It’s the children I feel most sorry for, strapped firmly into their pushchairs with only a Jenkins pastie for company (other pastie providers are available), so many shopping bags hanging on the back of the pushchair, both child and pastie are in danger of tipping backwards and being catapulted across M&S.

Happy shopping, my friends!

Whether you’re a postman or The Pope, we all have our little individual quirks, or as my old aunties use to say when I was a nipper… “Funny little ways”.
Take the gambler who lived and breathed horse racing to such an extent, when he wasn’t in the bookies or attending meetings at Chepstow, Kempton Park and many others around the country, or watching Channel Four racing, he’d spend hours listening to audios of horse’s hooves thundering around the course as they headed towards the winning post.  He was a man who loved the sound of his own vice.

Gambling on horses is also an obsession and regular readers will be aware that one of my obsessions this time of year is to comment about something I find baffling as well as ludicrous.  I’m talking about men who, apparently calendar-less, don’t realise it’s December, so swagger around displaying their hairy legs to the world on freezing cold winter days, wearing crumpled shorts.
Yet, inexplicably, they feel the need to wear woolly hats to keep their heads warm!

And they say variety is dead!

This year there are more of them on the windswept icy streets than ever before. This might well be because these ‘We don’t feel the cold’ macho lads have spent too much time watching their football heroes in shorts kicking a ball around in Qatar and want to emulate them.  If that’s so, they obviously don’t understand the difficult concept of…  Qatar In December = Very Hot.
Great Britain In December = Very Cold.  But as they’re found on the streets every year, proudly baring their knobbly knees to anyone who can’t avoid seeing them, I could be wrong regarding the World Cup angle.

As an added ‘bonus’ this year I’ve spotted two middle-aged men in shorts who either had dozens of tattoos plastered all over their legs or were prone to the worst varicose veins in history.  The vain leading the vein… you might say.
In the same way the Warden in “Dad’s Army” used to go around shouting “Put that light out!”, I think between November and March we should have an army of whistle-wielding wardens going around shouting… “Put some trousers on!”

As the year draws to a close, I’m so looking forward to the week between Christmas and New Year as this will be the time for me to relax and recover from the festive demands that many of us are so familiar with.  Looking back on the year, which has passed so quickly, I’m amazed at how much was packed in.

There is so much more to achieve in the New Year – and that is something that I am really looking forward to.

The past 12 months have created memories of joy, but have also been tinged with sadness. This is possibly the same for you also.  One of my oldest mentors would say to me, “Take time to reflect, enjoy the memories and move forward into the New Year with a new passion for life, and stand firm for what you believe in as your values will define you, even though at times not everyone will agree with you”.  Wise words that I hold dearly.

I find it refreshing that in this age of laptops, iPhones, Kindles and all the other methods we have of gleaning information and entertainment via a screen, people are still buying books, especially at this time of the year when a book always makes an acceptable gift.
Unless, of course, it’s written by an MP who’s decided he’d rather be a celebrity because he spent three weeks in a jungle clearing with other people who believed they’re celebrities, while dining on the  parts of kangaroos that even other kangaroos prefer to avoid.

From an early age, right through to my teens, it was said I always had my head in a book.  This wasn’t only because I loved reading, but also because any book my 14-year-old head was buried in, hid my face, so I didn’t feel so self-conscious about my spots.

In the run-up to every Christmas there’s always a glut of celebrity autobiographies in the shops.  Some of them sell well.
Some have a smiling face on the cover I vaguely recognise.
And some have even been written by the smiling face on the cover.
But in a crowded market, it’s the fate of a significant proportion to appear in remainder book shops in February for a quarter of the original price.

Even crueller for the subject, after being quickly read (or not read at all) they’re hurriedly taken to a charity shop where they’re priced at £1.99 or two for three quid.
I’ve noticed over the past few years that, jostling for space on all the chat show sofas and book shop shelves is a relatively new breed of literature – the celebrity-written novel.

Richard Osman may not have started the trend with his best-selling ‘Thursday Murder Club’ books, but he certainly helped the ever-growing market for thrillers and rom-coms penned by ‘That bloke or woman off the telly’.

It also appears there are very few celebrities today who’ve shied away from attempting to write a children’s book. Comedians seem particularly prone to this.  Don’t take my word for it. Check the bookshops and supermarkets.
Or… you could wait until January and find them on sale in a charity shop, priced £1.99 or two for three quid.  Happy reading!

I’m truly devastated.  Following another long day, I came home late last night only to find all the doors and windows open and everything stolen . . .

What kind of sick person does that to someone else’s Advent Calendar?

Did I get you there?

But how would you feel if your home had been broken into, which at this time of year is something that happens to so many.   Cars, sheds and homes are targeted throughout the run-up to Christmas as so many of us take our personal security for granted.

Being the victim of crime can have a devastating effect on us and the police tell us to keep all valuables locked up and out of sight. Good advice. However, most of us only practice this after we have been affected by such a crime.

And another thing. If your Christmas tree lights work the first time you plug them in . . . there is something definitely wrong with them!
It’s not normal, it wouldn’t be Christmas without five hours spent trying to untangle them and another three hours testing each bulb to see which one is causing the others not to work!

With December 25th less than a month away, (“Nothing much gets past you, Phil!”) if you haven’t already bought the special person in your life the extra special present they deserve, be aware that the clock is ticking!
Unless the battery’s run out.

As for you gentlemen, you don’t want to be one of those individuals who wanders around the shops on Christmas Eve having left present buying for their wife, girlfriend or partner (or indeed all three!) to the very last minute.

They think we don’t notice them, but they stand out a mile, usually wearing garish Christmas jumpers with snowflake patterns so bright they burn your retinas.

They also wear the haunted look of men who’d prefer to be quaffing festive pints at their local with their mates, but realise the terrible truth that the only drinking establishment that any man who, at four o’clock on Christmas Eve afternoon, has no idea what to buy their loved one…is the Last Chance Saloon!

That it doesn’t occur to some men it just might be a good idea to think in advance about what to buy their nearest and dearest explains why many of them often end up purchasing weird and not-so-wonderful…not to say useless…gifts – as revealed in a recent Top 40 list of the worst Christmas presents people have received.
These include a pair of nail clippers, a box of tea bags and…a kitchen mop!
Apparently, the man who bought that last present for his wife spent Christmas Day in his local A & E, having it removed from a very intimate…and no doubt very tender…part of his anatomy.

So, he wouldn’t have made much use of the present that was once (genuinely) given, gift-wrapped, to someone’s partner – a toilet seat!

Other presents that very little if any thought went into, were an air freshener…and a set of windscreen wipers.

Who would think they’d make an acceptable gift for anyone – unless they were attached to a brand-new car?

Fortunately present-buying won’t be a problem for me this year because my partner told me she doesn’t want me to buy her anything.
So she won’t be at all disappointed on Christmas morning to find there’s nothing under the tree for her from me.
Not even nail clippers. Will she…?

Call me old fashioned, but I’m a big supporter of please and thank you; it costs nothing to be polite and to appreciate an act of kindness.

Far too often I witness such acts being totally ignored – and it happened again only last week. I saw a young boy hold a door open for a middle-aged lady in a busy Swansea shop and was shocked to see that this gesture was totally ignored. Fair play to him, he didn’t react – and went on with his day (not many of us would have reacted in such a laid-back way, I don’t think).
I’d understand if this had happened in a big city like London, where the pace is much faster and people less friendly, or is it that we are so preoccupied in our own little worlds that we don’t even notice when other people are being polite and courteous anymore?

We can all make an effort to acknowledge an act of kindness from a fellow human being; there is no excuse.  Making small regular gestures of kindness and appreciating people around you should become a habit and is something we can all work on, I’m sure.