How I miss Christmas
Long gone days of poverty
Ma made the pudding
Us kids helped of course
Stirring the sticky mixture
Licking the raw mix
Dad read the paper
In the parlour, "He's best there"
Mum muttered grinning
Old recipe used
Suet, flour, eggs, and raisins
All gave it a stir
Went in our mouths too
Absolutely none wasted
The dog licked the floor
Mum added the prize
Some silver threepenny bits
Lucky to find them
When it was cooking
Us kids then went out to play
Still smacking our lips
Those days now long gone
Such the warp and weft of life
Memory fading
Gone sticky faces
Gone days when we had little
Who now cares a fig
How I miss that time
Happy days of poverty
Home made Christmas pud
Image 1 found at www.christmas-plum-pudding.jpg
Image 2 found at www.taste.com.au
It's so amazing when we had luxury of saving up to that fantastic pudding. None was wasted, not like now when bins are filled.
ReplyDeleteI know that most people say that there are no such things as "less complicated times", but I disagree. Like your poems suggests, I also remember happier time (especially when it comes to holidays). And I find myself wondering, if the fact that we had so much less is what made those days so wonderful.
ReplyDeleteI want pudding.
with less life indeed was rich...a blessed time gone by...
ReplyDeleteThe best ingredient is love swirled around - although a shiny coin is always a happy find
ReplyDeleteAh, family gatherings are the best. I could cook now lol and hopefully they like it haha. You have painted a perfect family day.
ReplyDeleteHave a great holiday, Robin
Mmmm. This sounds yummy; I want some.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like you truly enjoyed the the gift of sharing that pudding. A special treat from beginning to end, I think the special ingredient was "love"
ReplyDeleteThis poem is filled with wonderful nostalgia, Robin. I think at this time of the year we all look back with reflection..... It is always a 'miserable-merry' time of year.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, I remember the Christmas pud. And had forgotten how moms used to put dimes in the cakes, everyone would be horrified now. A miracle we didnt swallow them. You took me back, Robin...........
ReplyDeleteThis is a sweet memory you've captured. And you're right, it didn't take riches to have that delightful warmth. I did laugh a bit too at mom saying dad was better off where he was.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful poem...but I couldn't help but think when you got to "warp and waft, memory fading"....memory building....life is maybe a big quilt of things remembered, things made up....Christmas long ago, or perhaps several Christmases sandwiched together....I keep thinking of the big stockings hung at the end of the bed, filled with oranges, peppermint, and nuts....small gifts if it was a good year...a good Christmas.
ReplyDeleteWhat sweet memories! Sweet to the brain, sweet to the tongue!
ReplyDeleteThose are such vivid memories of childhood. And it's true - sometimes we yearn for those simpler days when having less, we somehow had more.
ReplyDeleteWell... I think this is one of your finest!
ReplyDeleteMerry Christmas down under :) Translate it as you wish.
ZQ
This was a delight to read - it conjured forth my own Christmas memories of my mom making homemade Christmas cake (with us kid "helping" ... lol ... of course). Thanks for this, Robin. And, as always, once again: Wonderfully written.
ReplyDeleteThose were the days of boyhood blessings that linger on in memory. Sad it is gone but not forgotten!
ReplyDeleteHank
Oh yes, I remember! I can even taste, in my mind, that wonderful raw mix. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThe warp and weft of life indeed... beautiful memories Robin...
ReplyDeleteThis was so cute....
ReplyDeleteMerry Christmas
Luv the nostalgia here Robin
ReplyDeleteHappy Holidays
much love...
Monday WRites 88 is live; i inviteyou to link in
ReplyDeletemuch love...
Love actually is more evident in poverty, all else being stripped away! Nice. I miss my grandparents bread making an my mom's Christmas cookies--a dear mess and neighborhood ritual. I think great nieces and nephews are somewhat reviving these practices-hopefully without the poverty.
ReplyDeleteI think most of us would give anything to go back and experience Christmas as a child again... it wasn't so much about the presents then, it was about the magic, and the love. Your story illustrates that so well! Merry Christmas to you, Old Egg!
ReplyDeleteI love this. I've never made figgy pudding, but maybe I'll give it a try at least once. Did you eat it with hard sauce?
ReplyDeleteThe 'fig' was a prompt word to be fitted in but not in the cake! To "not care a fig" is an ewxpression of distain or ambivalence. Hard sauce is a new one on me! Usually brandy is put on the top and set alight and then custard added as desired but icecream is also popular.
Delete"expression'!
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