There was a time when winter had some attraction for me. The summer distraction of seeing girls enjoying their colourful clothes and exposing parts of a body that I had been denied by my accident of birth was long passed and they were safely covered up once again. The cold weather cleared the streets and parks so that I could enjoy them in peace and alone. There was the occasional magical fall of snow transforming the everyday cityscape into something wonderful that I would explore late into the nights. Now with the wisdom of age snow is a hazard and broken bones just one step away.
The part of winter that I always disliked was this time of year. With a december birthday and christmas there was the trepidation of presents and the inevitable disappointment once received.
My parents were less than generous and any birthday present could be accompanied with a warning that there would be little to follow later in the month! It hardly mattered, apart from any edible sweet presents they would all be unwanted anyway. I must have not hidden my feelings too well because relatives gave up trying when I was still quite young and I might get a small monetary contribution "to put towards something else". Hardly much use to a child who is unable to ever express their desires! One day perhaps luck could come my way and the money "saved" in the form of Premium Bonds", a government savings lottery for more distant readers, still sit in that system, a small reminder of that poor sad child.
I am quite happy giving presents, I take great care to choose something to suit each recipient and think little of paying for them out of my limited resources. I have still not really got over the bad feelings associated with receiving presents, christmas for me will always be something to be got over rather than enjoyed.
Roll on spring, I want to see my legs again!