Christmas through the times of my life
Christmas in my childhood was the classic 1960s British version. My brother and I were up very early. On Christmas night I was permitted to have the travelling alarm clock in my bedroom. It unfolded from a bright red leatherette box about two inches square, had a luminous golden face and I thought it was entirely beautiful. Six o' clock was allowed. Five o'clock was not. My younger brother and I shared a room. I would usually wake first and lie there watching the illuminated dial. At about 5.15 would come a stirring from the other bed as Paul felt his way down in the dark. "Liz, Liz. He's been. He's been. I can feel it." The torch would come out from under my pillow. It was just a stocking on the bed, one of my Dad's walking socks. Big presents were under the tree and we had to wait until our parents were up to go downstairs but we could open the stockings. There would be a tanger...