Christmas memories at the Manor

As a child Christmas at the Manor was a wonderful time.

All the old relatives came, the Great Aunts and Uncles, and there was food, and fun. And there were chores. The cows still needed milking and dogs still needed fresh water and the pens cleaned.

Much of the farm slowly grew to become dog kennels. The old horse barn was completely converted to kennels. There were runs on the outside, and small cubbys on the inside with a sliding drop trap door to each.

Everyday, they need to be let out in the morning, some kibble put into the inside dish and fresh water in the water dish. Everyday someone had to go in to each pen and use a pooper scooper to remove the droppings. Sometimes we were paid for this and sometimes not.

The handful of cows still had to be milked, by this time it was done by hand. The machinery having long been disused. But during Christmas the chores seemed less burdensome.

The kerosene heaters needed filling, someone had to go stand outside to fill the little cans form the big 55 gallon cans.

But after the chores, that was the time for sun. Everyone was in a good mood, the tables were set, and the Holiday dishes brought out, and it was usually allowed to have the TV on. The TV was never on during daytime, so that was a special occasion.

In the afternoon the old folks would start arriving, loaded with gifts to be put under the tree. Early in the morning we kids opened some gifts, but the real gifts were saved until after dinner was eaten, dished put away, and everyone was ready in the living room. Names were read, and gifts passed out. What a time.

When I was really young, our grandfather would even hitch up the horses, dress as Santa, and arrive at the Church to hand out gifts to the kids. I do have some old 8mm films from one of those occasions. We suspected it was our grandfather but weren't completely sure.

So many fond memories from the Manor over the holidays. But there are some dark ones as well. Our father was an alcoholic, and that always meant when he hit the tipping point, from being light hearted to ugly. The trouble was you didn't know where that tipping point was. You had no way to know when it would switch and you become the wrath of his anger. But it always came.

As the years moved along, the older folks slowly passed along as well. Each year there were less relatives arriving with armloads of gifts. Eventually they were all gone, and Christmas at the Manor was not the same. We moved away, and it become less practical to get there as well.

There is no way to recapture those days, they are gone, time has changed. Today each of us holds our own Christmas separately. Each year I drive past the old Manor on Christmas day just so I can grab those memories and hold them a bit longer. Our Uncle lives there now, and he is a grump, and wont let anyone in or near the house. No one visits him due to his unsocial behavior. This I struggle with deeply. He was a fun Uncle when we were small, at least he seemed so. We called him Uncle Al, kiddies Pal. Today, not so much. He says his goal is to let the Manor crumble around him, then bulldoze it down!

Seems his memories weren't nearly as fond as ours. His goal is close to being met, all of the barns have fallen down, and the house is barely standing now. Each time I drive past, it brings tears to my eyes to see it that way. Each time I think I could find a way to force him out of the house and bring it back. But I always just drive past and realize I will have to rely on my memories.