As a young'un I used to go looking in my parents bedroom for prezzies....
One particular year, I was about 11-years-old, I found what I wanted for Christmas underneath their bed. A brand spanking new cassette player......the flat ones popular in the early 1970s. I couldn't resist opening it....I took it out of the box, polystyrene, polythene bags, unwrapped the microphone etc....had a good look at it...but then I couldn't get the damn thing back into its box. Panic stations. I tried to force it in and ended up tearing the box.
Come Christmas morning I was opening my presents and there was no cassette player. My parents told me they couldn't afford to get me one.......I knew different of course, but I dare not say anything because then they would know it was me who was rummaging around and who tore the box.
I eventually got it after they'd seen me suffer enough. It was one of the best presents I've ever had.
Great memories.

Sorry to be negative about xmas but all I remember is not having a proper xmas tree and every year my mum going to work on xmas day at 1.00 after a rushed xmas lunch - she was a nurse and got paid 2.5 or 3 times the normal amount. Then spending the rest of the day by myself.

Having said all that I try ever so hard to make it really special for my son on the day. I hate the build up but try really hard to make a special dinner and decorate the house well and have a HUGE tree with lots of decorations. I still hate the whole thing but it's a day for my son, so have to make it his day. I also wrap everything seperately as he loves lots of presents under the tree and I know I always wished for that.

FriarTuck, you're lucky you didn't get yourself arrested (http://www.sheffieldforum.co.uk/showthread.php?t=168066&highlight=arrested+christmas+present) ;)

Every christmas my dad says I wonder if she'll be ill again laid out being sick .Let me set the record straight I was 8 years old and it only happened one christmas over 30 years ago.
I like Christmas eve baking in the morning cinema in the afternoon and going out with a couple of friends for a civilised evening of good food and wine, followed by trying to remember where all the presents have been hidden.

Tales of the down to earth and caring attitude of the Sheffield community always remind me fondly of my youthful days when I was a young lad living in Nether Edge. Whilst I only spent the first six years of my childhood there, my family connections frequently took me back during the Christmas holidays and the festive spirit which I used to enjoy was second to none.
Travelling back from Finland, where my father was based in the diplomatic service, I recall the anticipation and excitement that I would feel crossing the English Channel on the ferry and making the drive up the M1 to Sheffield. Visiting my grandparents was always a thrill and I especially used to look forward to the tales which my grandpa would entertain me with. Naturally I had my favourites and the combination of them with his amusing delivery and jocular Christmas outfits, made for a cracking night in.
One particular tale which I never tired of hearing was based around a series of curious incidents which took place around the time of the last war. As general commodities were still being rationed, local folk would make best do with any number of substitutes for the most basic of general goods and organise their own social events to keep spirits high.
One such event took place at the start of spring and featured a game of football which would have modern day Blades and Owls fans shaking their heads in disbelief. Folk would gather in a spot near the park in Broomhill and smoke cigarettes made from used tea leaves and drink beer brewed from a mound of old potatoes. Simple pleasures but welcome relief in such hard times.
The curious thing about this match was that frequently up to 100 players would compete. Interestingly the ball was made from the innards of a cows bowels and the game would be played until the light dimmed or the sirens sounded. The games were certainly physical and frequently scraps would break out amongst the burly competitors. My grandfather was a keen player in these games and gained something of a reputation as a hard but fair man. His nickname was actually "Leadfoot", a somewhat ironic name for someone whose trade was based in the arts and crafts movement of porcelain varnishing.
Having recently read your delightful tale of old Sheffield folklore, I felt I must write to inform you of my own tale. Of course these visits to my grandparents were many years ago and they are long since passed. What I still am having difficulty in believing is true however, is your narration of the tale of the famous bare knuckle fighter. Why you ask? Well the name of my Grandfather? A certain Charlie Knuckles. The name of my wife? A certain Glenda Ooze. The name of my daughter? A certain Freda "Hilda" Knuckles.

Sir, it is certainly a small world which never fails to amuse me. With best regards from Finland, I remain yours sincerely,

Jeremy Knuckles.

I remember one christmas i was very young I'd opened all my pressies - I was ready to head off to my nans all dressed up in new dress(i never liked dress's) and white tights on ...
I remember pointing out to my mum that i had lumps in my tights ......I'll let you imagine the rest .........LMAO :rolleyes:


ooops !!!!!!!!!!!:hihi: :hihi:

All my childhood christmas memories are great, best times ever. But the one that really sticks in my mind was when I was about 11, two days before christmas(my mum and dads anniversary) my dad and his mates were building a raft to enter into the annual boxing day raft race at matlock bath. We had a phone call to say there`d been an explosion while dad was doing some welding, his foot had been blown off in the accident. Postponed all celebrations, me and my sister wouldn`t open our pressies till dad got home. The best pressie was that the surgeons managed to save his foot, and the following year we all went in the raft race at matlock!

When my dad used to live with us he would make a christmas pudding every year and put money in it. He would put 1 £10note in everytime and mark it off so when he cuts it he knows he will always get it, and we end up with £1 coins lol

Also one year my dad bought me and my brothers a ride on train, he set it up and while my brothers were playing with it, I was busy playing with the box

We have all this on a homevideo. The camera looks like one from Del Boy, there is a part in the video where my dad points the camera to a mirror and he has a massive camera on his shoulder lol

I had great memories of christmas as a child. But i recall one time my mum let me and my younger brother ring this number up and you could hear a message from santa, but also one year when i learn that santa was not real when i was about 6y old and we lived in a 2 bed house with my 2 eldest sister had to share a bedroom with my brother, and one xmas eve i pretend to be asleep and our bedroom door open, i was excited as i thought it was santa. But it was just my sisters bring our sacks of toys to the bottom of our bunk. I was very upset to learn that they all lied to me. they try to tell me they was santas little helpers until i said i tell my bro about them been helpers my dad sat me down and told me the truth.

Family parties. Grandmas on Christmas Day night, usually until about 4am, ours on New Years Eve. Went to them from being very small. Sort of party where family members and drinking cronies gathered after club closed. Lots of drinking, buffet, old records, people doing "turns". There was a guy who used to do Eskimo Nell. I didnt understand it but laughed when everyone else did.

Being beaten unconcious by a gimp with a kipper.

Most people I know & including myself just find Xmas very stressfull a complete burden have done since they became adults.

My dad stabbing my stepdad one xmas eve is always a good one to look back on and wonder how the **** did I end up in this family

A lot of our family all lived down the same street in Heeley.
One of my favorite aunts, always had a party on Christmas Eve, and all the family turned up. it was all based on food and drink and songs round the piano.
Us young ones were eventually put to bed, only to wake at about 6am to pillow cases full of toys, brought by magic in the night.
We should try to keep this magic for ever. Our innocence dies too young.

Worst Christmas was when I was about 10 or 11 years old, our old Black Labrador had been really ill for a couple of weeks and he passed away on Christmas day. Mum and Dad spent about £20 in Vets bills on him that day which was about 35 years ago and just before he passed away he looked up and wagged his tail.

Got up one Christmas morning - great big huge present on the floor :partyhat:
i opened it up - what the ????
What is it Dad?
It's an accordian son. Would you like to have music lessons?

Back then, faced with a present that big and an authoritarian daddy, you didn't argue.
I took the music lessons until the tutor took my dad aside one day and said 'your son can play, but doesn't want to, his heart isn't into it, I think you should reconsider the lessons.
My dad didn't speak to me all the way home.
He didn't speak to me for a good couple of weeks after either. At all. not a bean. Literally.
I was only young.
*******.

Got up one Christmas morning - great big huge present on the floor :partyhat:
i opened it up - what the ????
What is it Dad?
It's an accordian son. Would you like to have music lessons?

Back then, faced with a present that big and an authoritarian daddy, you didn't argue.
I took the music lessons until the tutor took my dad aside one day and said 'your son can play, but doesn't want to, his heart isn't into it, I think you should reconsider the lessons.
My dad didn't speak to me all the way home.
He didn't speak to me for a good couple of weeks after either. At all. not a bean. Literally.
*******.
Good God, I dont want to insult your Dad, but that seems a bit out of order.

Good God, I dont want to insult your Dad, but that seems a bit out of order.

You're not insulting him mate by your comment. He was out of order, and it's good to know that someone else can see that and it's not just me...

There was loads of other stuff like that, and on a positive note he really did look out for me in lots of ways.....

He had issues in life, his own upbringing and stuff...

Life I guess. I never did feel close to my dad though.

Mums are best. Just don't know it till it's too late.

Ho hum.

Lifes good though.

You're not insulting him mate by your comment. He was out of order, and it's good to know that someone else can see that and it's not just me...

There was loads of other stuff like that, and on a positive note he really did look out for me in lots of ways.....

He had issues in life, his own upbringing and stuff...

Life I guess. I never did feel close to my dad though.

Mums are best. Just don't know it till it's too late.

Ho hum.

Lifes good though.
No mate I was thinking he was out of order, treating you like that.
tyhis is how the written word can be mistaken.
All the best any way :thumbsup:

No mate I was thinking he was out of order, treating you like that.
tyhis is how the written word can be mistaken.
All the best any way :thumbsup:
No misunderstandings at all :)
No worries :)
Draggle :thumbsup:

The *******.
I used to say goodnight dad I love you, see you tomorrow as I went to bed. He would reply 'I hope so' as if he might die in the night.

He bought a caravan in North Yorks and used to pack me and my mum off there for the summer hols (four or five weeks) so he could get ****** at home alone.

Years on
I met him one night, went home and phoned him to arrange meeting him in the morning (work business)

He sounded sleeeeeepy and odd....

The nexy morning I phoned him.... no answer... alarm bells in my head.... ended breaking into his office, him on the floor in a coma, ****** himself, half vomited pills and whisky in the sink.

I phone the ambulance.......

My dad was a mess.

I really think It's time in my life to write all this down, and the rest of the ****.

*goes to bed and will probably edit this in the morning*

Just read your posts on this one Draggletail; food for thought for all of us that are parents. Clearly a thing that's on your mind right now, but I'm glad to see that (judging by the rest of your posting) your relationship with your Dad doesn't seem to soured your character. Hope you have a peaceful and loving Christmas.

losing my viginity to some fat bird when drunk:(

Three years ago when BESS (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y96/saxon51/BESS/Picture.jpg) died at just after midnight on Boxing Day :( :(

Our last Christmas in Tamworth 1979 (aged 4) before we moved to Sheffield a couple of months later. I had terrible ear ache and I remember being taken to the local childrens hospital and a nurse giving me a packet of Tiger Tots off the Christmas tree. :D

Another one when I was about 5 or 6 coming downstairs to find a new scalextric all set up on the floor in the living room.....then having to rush back upstairs quickly as I wasn't feeling too well and had pooed diarrhea all down the inside of my pyjamas. :gag: :hihi:

Missing my partner terribly as he'd gone down to his family in the South. Spent Christmas Day with a girlfriend and was setting off to go to the Raven (anyone remember it) when his car drew up outside. He'd missed me so much he'd driven all the way up from Wiltshire to be with me. We all 3 went to the Raven and had a terrific evening. Still together after 31 years.