Twenty five years

This scene was inspired by an image I found during my '25' search, of a record of 25 beloved carols of Christmas.

I pictured the sort of person who might own such a record, and decided that they would be quite old, and probably be the sort of person who might own both my maroon armchair, and also the beautiful oak table friend Miggs gave me on my last trip to New Zealand (an added twist: we were just video chatting, and she pointed out that she made the table 25 years ago, at a time in our lives when we flatted together. Which makes the chair the same age!)

And so yesterday I spent some time making the record cover, and to save paper when printing, added a few traditional Christmas cards and a box of Scorched Almonds (the sort of treat my chap would think appropriate for Christmas day...)

For a wee while I contemplated if it was my sailor from last year, and how much of a pain in the arse it would be to recreate that scene just to add the festive items for this year (too much, I decided).

So I realised that it was another elderly chap who lived alone.

The final pieces of the puzzle fell into place when I was perusing my stash for things to hang on the wall, and came across this double heart picture frame that came with a bag of treasure from our tip shop several years ago, and which I thought at the time I'd struggle to use.

And the name of the scene came to me.

He's a widower. Lives alone, and it's Christmas day.

What I'm not sure about is if the '25 years' refers to how long since his wife died, or how long they were married.

And, finally, speaking of twenty five years, here's me back then in our dining room. Miggs and I would often look at each other, ask if we planned to have anyone for dinner anytime that week, and if not, take the dining table over with our dolls' house projects.

And if you look carefully, you'll see the very same stereo system in the lounge of the dolls' house!