‘What I did during the holidays’—thanks for the memories

Press, 3 February 1981, Page 12

‘What I did during the holidays’—thanks for the memories

By

ANNE McCOY,

of Christchurch

That’s it They over. After seven weeks of holidays the kids have gone back to school in a flurry of blue gingham and grey drill. I’m sitting here savouring coffee and silence, and recalling my “first day of the term” experiences of the 19505. There were fresh unidorms, fresh haircuts,

fresh teachers, fresh pencils and paper, fresh sand-

als accompanied by fresh blisters. Then came the inevitable pain of having to . write • th? 1 term’s first essay, “What I did During the Holidays.” ? / I sit here wondering'.if today’s youth commit their holiday memoirs to paper. Before long I’m composing .an essay on my own seven weeks of rest and recreation, r . During the holidays, (I alwjnys .got at least two mdrks for beginning thus) I turiied six cases of. lettuce into salad, cut 70 leaves of bread into sandwiches, made 20 gallons of cordial, opened several dozep Cans of foodstuffs and liquid > refreshment, and parted out for more

ice-blocks’thqnl care to * remember. ’ As.well as that I stuck,: five packets of plasters ori assorted cuts and.-grazes, dug 20 two prickles out of grubby hands and feet, smeared four ; bottles of sun-cream on flaking backs- and faces, and fainted' dead away when my daughter had a bleeding nose. S: In addition, I played 33 games of ludd, 28 of mon-

opoly, {7 of chess, and lost all my 2 cent pieces at poker. ? <• The only game I like is Scrabble. No-one wanted ?.to play that. I was ball girl at 48 tennis matches, supervisor ’ for 102 swims, and most unwanted batter at 21 cricket games. . I mediated in 97 tiffs, 49 disagreements, 30 arguments and .10 riots.. In fact, on the second day of Christmas I committed corporal punishment, which is probably why I was omitted from the New Year’s Honours List. Anyway, I put my loss of temper down to a bout of Post Navity Depression. I bet there was a lot

of it about that week. And kids who give their mother a packet of Poli-pads for Christmas have to expect some reaction. They obviously had not noticed my giant leaps to liberation during the year. I’ve still got my feet firmly planted in front of the sink as far as they are concerned.

During the holidays I fitted 15 around my Christmas table, a table deigned to accommodate six. Under such circumstances no-one noticed the fact that the turkey had popped its tender timer hours before I got around to serving it. They were too busy vying for elbow room and a chance to tell the worst joke. Our nuclear family isolation was swept away by the love and laughter of grandmothe* and grandfather, aunt and uncle, niece and nephew. My darling, toddling nephew learnt to call me Aunty Anne. The others insisted that he was asking for an anple, but then they have no imagination. Once I found the courage to leave my children on their own at the picture theatre. Then I wandered around the cit ’, r;y distraction so great that I bought myself

lilac slaiks instead f the usual, serviceable navy. I enjoyed every sunset and saw not one sunrise. I dipped my body in crystal seas and surged with the surf. I shared the beauty of national park bush and open countryside. I appreciated sun and breeze and gentle rain on my skin. And all this in the com-

pany of those I love most of all. I seem to remember that childhood essays scored good marks for finishing with a paragraph on "the best part of my holiday was . . ~” so here it is. The best part of my holiday was tripping over a tr t root in a native reserve and falling flat. How long is it since you have

lain on the forest floor breathing in its earthy aromas and appreciating New Zealand bush from grass roots level? I can recommend it next time you are wondering what to do “during the holidays.” Yes, it was a great holiday, and to all those concerned — thanks for the memories.