Christmas 2007

Boothstown

I am somewhat late to this write-up, even by my standards.  The publication of the story of Christmas 2007, such as it is, was prompted by Katie sharing a photo on a family WhatsApp thread a mere 18 years after the event (a time before WhatsApp even existed).  Of course, this prompted me to go onto the Secret Portal but all that was there was a placeholder (see below).  I was thus inspired to put, er, fingers to keyboard.

Clearly memories of this event are very limited, and I am fascinated by some fairly mundane details.  Lynne and I lived in Manchester at the time but didn't own a car, so how did we get there, and indeed back?  Did we get picked up, get a taxi or something else?  (I very much doubt that we stayed over.)  This was in the pre-iPhone era, and I didn't take any photos on my crappy little O2 Ice phone, so these photos were presumably taken on my little Canon (Canon Digital IXUS 75).  Anyway, I digress.  First up, we have the arrival of the Barlows, with an impossibly-young looking cousin Mark accompanying Aunty Janet and Uncle Graham.

You would be forgiven, Uncle Graham's replicated shirt aside, for thinking I had switched to documenting any day of the year except Christmas Day, such is the spread below.  It appears to feature chicken tikka, mini pitta breads accompanied by an assortment of dips (two salsas, hummus and a raita, I would guess), Parma ham-wrapped asparagus, mini stuffed halves of potato, and something else at the back that I can't quite make out, even with the full resolution photo.  Answers on a postcard please.  (They may not even be potatoes.  In fact, Matt has since noted that they are ragu in pasta shells and that the final item in the distance is seekh kebab.)

In retrospect, this spread, almost certainly the output of Matt (or predominantly so), was likely inspired by our visits to the Barlows, such as this (and latterly this and this), where we were often plied with a vast number of dishes (and to be fair Nana Sue probably did lots of these, all linked to the Bamford gene of never knowingly under-catering - or perhaps simply the fear of anyone going without something).  It set the tone for a few years of Christmases (or certainly the ones I was present), whereby increasingly Matt and I took up the mantle of preparing the Christmas meal and food quantity and variety spiralled out of control.

Whilst it was probably too much food as preparation for a full-on Christmas dinner, itself invariably a competition of person versus plate, it was almost certainly very tasty indeed.

What you do need, after such an initial burst of consumption, is to burn off some of the calories with some light interactive action, such as golf on the Wii.  Aunty Katie carefully lines up a shot which is difficult to pick up on the distinctly non-modern looking TV (we don't miss cathode ray tubes, do we).  I daresay it was me who brought the Wii (although it could have been Aunty Katie's - she seemed well practised based on one of the videos), and it too became a feature of Christmases future (now past, of course).

Aunty Janet goes for a more horizontal technique, the success of which we have no idea.  Uncle Graham's elbow makes an unwelcome intrusion.  (Poor photography, you might say, and you'd be right.)

Pacified a bit too much by golf, someone (probably me) decided to ramp up the energy levels by switching to boxing.  Or at least I presume that is the case given the left, right combo that Aunty Janet is enthusiastically engaging in.  Personally, I fear for the Christmas tree, although Uncle Graham is far more amused than concerned by the prospect of the decorations being scattered everywhere.  Given the frenetic violence in AJ's technique, it was a distinct possibility.

Uncle Graham, close at this stage to featuring on all the photos, takes a more focussed approach to proudly watching his son use a tight technique, seemingly unable to fully extend his arms, like some sort of cross between Mike Tyson and a T-Rex.

I had clearly grown tired of standing up to take photos, so I had retired to the far sofa, handily close to my lager beer, while the sporting action had moved to bowling.  Mark gets into an impressively (and unnecessarily) committed position to deliver the ball down the, er, lane (unnecessary because the Wii has no regard as to, for example, the bend in your knee - it cares only about the direction and speed of movement of your hand holding the controller).  Matt, seemingly free from kitchen duty right now, watches as on, as of course does the ever-present Uncle Graham, while I am being pointed at by Katie and Lynne.  I expected them to be using different fingers if I'm honest.

It's Uncle Graham's turn for bowling action, partly obscured by another bloody elbow, as Matt seems to be trying to send mind signals of "rescue me" whilst under questioning from AJ.

It's been some time since Uncle Graham was able to reach the lows, knee bend wise, that Mark did earlier, but this is enough.  Lynne is reclining further with each game, clearly revelling in the party atmosphere.  Or perhaps not.

Tennis now, and Mark prepares his backhand in the manner of an dismissive cuff of a disobedient public schoolboy.  Or, y'know, something like that.

I have somehow relinquished the camera, presumably to Matt, so I finally feature.  Of course, I had a beer in my hand, and I was somewhat closely flanked by Uncle Graham and Nana Sue.  Hang on a second, though.  If Matt is taking the photo and Mum is on the sofa, who the hell is watching the Christmas dinner!?  It may well have been Lynne or Katie taking the photo actually, given the angle, so that perhaps explains it.

(I should say that I have no idea about timeline here.  The photos are named Christmas Day 2007 0xx, which is how they would appear on my laptop if I named the download, but there is no record of the time that they were taken.  For most of these photos, it seems dark outside, but it does feel like we're not having Christmas dinner forever.  It might just be 6pm, though, and of course we had eaten our body weight in starters.)

Yes, this is a lovely photo, apart from the red eye (we don't see that any more, eh - how do you explain this sort of thing to children nowadays?), but can you make it a bit more in the Christmas spirit?

Yup, that'll do it.  Ta.

This manages to be both completely impassive but also saying quite a few things at the same time.  I'll perhaps go with "I'm enduring Christmas Day with your family so put that bloody camera down and let me eat my meal in peace".  She's wearing a hat at least.

Ah here it is... Christmas dinner!  We didn't have too long to wait.  I'm assuming that this is midway through the meal, otherwise the contents of the plate have been rather unceremoniously dumped onto the plate.

The senior Barlow fingerprints (and I think we really mean AJ) are all over the next few photos.  With the guests all of an age where this sort of thing is moderately acceptable (i.e. before we had kids who might ask awkward questions), I suppose this was a case of making hay while the sun shone.  Or something.  Anyway, succulent fruity boobs are what we have here, with the second (and distinctly) necessary adjective doing some extra work, innuendo fans.

Who wouldn't like cock 'n' balls (or as Jamie would later say, "willy and balls") shaped jelly for their afters?

This appears to be my presents, although given there are two they are probably mine and Lynne's combined.  I'm guessing mine is the "naughty" pasta (probably the most self-consciously named rude present here - like a small child covering their mouth after accidentally saying the word "bum" and saying "that was naughty!") and Lynne's the wipe-clean (always useful) "Cock-a-Doodle" sketch pad.

AJ had presumably a little break from giggling at the genius of the presents she had no doubt bought to clear her plate pretty impressively.  Or she didn't put too much on there to begin with.

Katie's plate contents appear not to have changed much since the last photo so these are all in quick succession it would seem.  Her plate, and Matt's, are in distinct contrast to AJ's.  That's what opening rude presents does to you - it distracts.  I shudder to think what's on the cards that Matt appears to be shuffling.  There is a pleasing number of bottles of Grolsch on the table.  But wait, what is that present that Katie has?

Ah yes, the "succulent" rude sweet series continues with some, um, hard willies.  One would hope that the use of "hard" in this context reflects the boiled nature of these sweets, thus having a neat double meaning (as for the fruity boobs).  Whichever, Aunty Katie looks pretty eager to get in there.

Right, who fired that party popper?  Matt takes the photo (based on the angles), so does that rule him out of the crime?  The direction of the trail suggests it was Mark or Katie.  Will we ever find out?  (No.)

Occupying what could be viewed as chef's seat, nearest the kitchen, Nana Sue proudly displays her bottle chilling, um, sheath.  (Sorry, I hesitated using such a word given the previous content.  But I think it's fine.)  It also looks like I got in close for the photo just as it was pushed towards me, resulting in a bit too much of a close-up.  Every day's a school day, huh.

Katie is correctly identifying the one true approach to dealing with family Christmases: bury your head in a huge glass.

Wait, is this the culprit from before?  Could it be?  Well, would he really have held this pose for so long, or have been so stupid to do it again?  He certainly seems very pleased with himself so it's a possibility.  I put nothing past him given his exuberant youth.

What on earth is this monstrosity?  Is it spotted dick?  It appears from first glance that Nana Sue is making reasonable progress with her two-pronged attack.

OK, I take that back.  What on earth is going on?  Will anyone want to eat this?  It appears to be both frozen solid and melting.  Not a good combo.  Never mind, though: the black pepper is on hand for seasoning.

With the machete seemingly abandoned, she has opted for an approach of chipping away at the edges of the mini vomit mountain.

The lack of progress is the source of much amusement.  At least there's trifle, which Mark has impatiently helped himself to and already scoffed.

If you don't want semi-thawed spotted dick in about five hours, or trifle, then the final option is some sort of fruit cake, as decorated with marzipan by primary school children.  So much choice!

Ecstatic dessert-lover Mark is in heaven anyway, and in a constant state of hilarity.

I do not know what this face is.  Perhaps something to do with the raspberries that someone has thrown in her drink?

And that endeth the night.  No more photos of the frivolities of the night exist, so it falls upon me to finish with some out-takes of sorts.  These are stills from some of the videos taken on the night.  Firstly, back when it was actually daytime, this is Rudolph, I mean Uncle Graham, greeting Matt, who was pretty shocked by receiving a big, fat hug.

This is a still from a video of Graham doing the boxing, getting uncomfortably close to smashing a controller through the TV screen.  It didn't happen, thankfully.

Here is a clip from a boxing match between Katie and Mark, which appeared to be won by the former from the video.  It's hard to tell given the muted responses.  Mark seems quietly acceptant, but I normally would have expected some sort of wild celebration if Katie had won, although it does seem like she has played it before from some of the comments.

And that was that.  What a blast from the past that was.

Go back to the Secret Portal.  Or just go for a lie down.