1 January 2011 – New Year’s Day

The beginning of the New Year. Traditionally a time when people see it as an opportunity for a new beginning, when they make New Year resolutions which they rarely manage to keep -to go on a diet; to stop smoking; to be nicer to someone or other, etc

I wonder what lies ahead this year? Not only for me and my family but the UK as a whole.

On the personal I note that inexorably my arms and legs perceptibly weaken. I noticed it in so many small things that I am less able to do and seriously wonder how much longer I will be able to shuffle about my walking frame before being permanently confined to a wheelchair. I also notice that my breathing is becoming more difficult even during the day I get more easily breathless.

On the nation front, undoubtedly, we are in for a tough year to try to get our finances in order. All of us will have to take part of the financial strain and that is the way it should be. There are always strong cases to be made for exempting one class or body of people or another but the fairest thing is to spread the load. I have every confidence that given a fair wind we will get through this difficult year and into recovery in 2012.

I must confess that on the whole I am pessimistic about one aspect of the world in which we live today there are the morals and ethics. Compare this with 40’s, 50’s and even the early 60’s, when there was still, to my mind, a degree of innocence in the young, much of which has now been lost through the medium of television showing the most ghastly programmes with people doing the most horrendous things to each other. Sex and sex education has being downgraded to no more than just another lesson in schools which has been taught to younger and younger pupils many of whom in my day would never even have known, or being particularly interested, about getting involved. It is a great sadness that this age of innocence has passed.

Although I am the first to recognise that we cannot go back in time I rate  television as one of the inventions I would completely wipe off the face of the earth if were God. (Hypocritically , in my case as I certainly derive a great deal of pleasure from it). Also the medium of television can be a great comfort,  particularly for the sick and the elderly, but balance that against the damage done to the young from watching totally inappropriate programmes. We used to have what was known as the British Board of Censors (Now called the British Board of Film Classification. Sadly I believe that’s exactly what it does just classifies films however appalling or explicit they might be in the hope that by giving such films discrete classification adults will have sufficient control over the young to prevent them from viewing inappropriate material, which as we all know is complete nonsense).

Looking at the guiding principles for this body, you see that they include:

• .that adults should, as far as possible, be free to choose what they see, provided it remains within the law and is not potentially harmful

This begs the question of what is’ potentially harmful

When applying these general guidelines one of the three main qualifications is:

‘Whether the material, either on its own, or in combination with other content of a similar  nature, may cause any harm at their category concerned. This includes not just any harm that may result from the behaviour of potential viewers, but also any  ‘moral harm’ that may be caused by, for example, desensitising a potential viewer to the effects of violence, degrading a potential viewers sense of empathy, encouraging the humanising view of others, suppressing pro-social attitudes, encouraging anti-social attitudes, reinforcing unhealthy fantasies, or eroding a sense of moral responsibility. Especially with regard to children, harm may also include retarding social and moral development, distorting  sense of right and wrong, and limiting their capacity for compassion..

All I can say is that from my own observations of what is shown on television this Board have a different understanding of language to me. Particularly, as it appears from the bbfc website that they also apply their guidelines and general principles to DVDs and video games

As I said at the beginning it begs the question as to what they consider is ‘ potentially harmful’.(Bring back Mary Whitehouse). if people want to support an organisation that campaigns for family values in the media then they should get in touch with Mediawatch UK. I make no apology if I sound out of tune with  modern times but I seriously believe that exposure to the sorts of programmes, DVDs and video games that are now widely available are not only ‘ potentially harmful’ but are doing actual irreparable harm to the next generation.

This can be clearly seen in the rapid advances being made in electronic games which even the most intelligent families seem to have to provide for children because of peer pressure. So many of these games show extreme violence so that the young again, become completely in innured in death, blood and guts. I wonder how much this has been partially responsible for me substantial increase in loutish behaviour and even worse knife and gun crime amongst the very young. If you are interested in looking at the research then check out the Byron Review 2008: Safer Children in a Digital World

What about moral teaching? I listened to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s (Primate of the Anglican Church in Great Britain) Presidential Address to the 2010 Synod. Much of what he spoke about was Christianity’s role in today’s society. However, to my mind he could well have spent  little time on the question of today’s ethics and morality He did touch on what he called the Big Society and the importance of ‘ looking to an ideal when men and women were intent on enhancing each other’s lives by building up their freedom to shape their communal life with fairness and generosity. People for whom responsibility is not a grim or oppressive word but a joyful acknowledgement of what we owe each other’. This may have obliquely referred to the sort of problems about which I am concerned but, sadly, this was not made explicitly plain. His message seemed to me to be  more to do with living in peace with each other, and appreciating our differences of  belief.-the ecumenical message’ for the benefit of what he calls the Big Society I do believe he could well have touched on the question of today’s morality, the importance of family life, the importance of parents in passing the right moral and ethical standards on their children and our approach on such matters. But maybe this was not the right forum. Old-fashioned and unpopular in today’s Sodom and Gomorrah environment or what some choose to call contemporary culture.

I certainly do not wish to commence this New Year on a negative note. I have been dubbed’ an extreme optimist’ and that, is indeed, what I like to think I am. I have the utmost faith in the next generation to resolve some of the appalling legacy on moral and ethical issues with which we have left them.

For my part I feel deeply ashamed and impotent by my lack of influence but I’m heartened by the knowledge that there are many young people, albeit in a small minority, who are on the right path and we can only hope that they manage, over a sustained period of time, to bring back some sense of innocence and joy to young people which is being destroyed by modern technology

A very happy and healthy New Year to all my readers coupled with the injunction to do what you can to influence the lives of young people and protect them against the horrors of violence and sexual perversion sharing on television and used in the video games.

31 December 2010-New Year’s Eve

New Year’s Eve or position Old Years Night is the final day of the Gregorian year, universally celebrated on December 31 even in non-Christian nations. I have no doubt that there was an ancient pagan celebration at the end of the year and the beginning of a new one. Those people who choose to celebrate the event, these days in the UK, usually do so with a party or social gathering, spanning the transition of the year at midnight. In England the precise moment is observed when Big Ben, the clock on the tower at the Palace of Westminster, chimes midnight but, on this one occasion instead of 12 chimes it is the 13^th. chime which denotes the changing of the year. It is then traditionally the time that all join hands and sing Auld Lang Syne.

As a young man I used to attend the Chelsea Arts Ball which was one of the recognised prime venues for the event. I usually went with a crowd of other people as some form of tableau. I remember the last one we did was entitled ‘ Trammersmith’. We built a huge Tram onto an old motor lorry chassis. The finished result  was meant to represent the final Tram which ran in Hammersmith before they moved over to buses.

Years later when I was in Aden, Southern Arabia, we would all go to the Union Kormaksar Club (the only combined golf and yacht club – so far as I’m aware – in the world) . Again a large group of us would get together and dress appropriately as a tableau or following a particular theme. I remember one year our tableau celebrated the introduction of ‘The Pill’. (The contraceptive pill having only recently been made available), emphasising the fact of the large Victorian family compared with the modern family, able to the planned and restricted by the Pill. The first 10 members of our tableau were dressed as Victorians, the adults in Victorian dress and the children appropriately attired. The boys in little sailor suits and the girls with hooped dresses, accompanied by a nanny pushing a baby in a grand looking pram. Then followed the  ‘modern couple’ pushing their one child in a pram. I was that child!. I had a large nappy, made from a bath towel, a bib  and laced bonnet and a dummy made from a balloon and a circular piece of cardboard. I must have been quite a sight.

On my way home, in the early hours of the morning, going along the Ma’alla straight, towards Crater, we came across some Scottish soldiers, the worse for wear, (the Scots always making a big thing about New Year’s Eve and therefore frequently overdoing the drink) They were heaving rocks at a taxi driver who was cowering behind his cab. I leapt out of my car, in all my infant attire, and yelled, ” What on earth do you you think you are doing“. Hearing the voice of authority they dropped their rocks and meekly went on their way when I sent them packing. (Apparently there had been some argument about the amount of the taxi fare). Having told the soldiers I knew exactly who they were I told them that they would all be on parade the following morning,

I can only assume that not having the faintest idea who I was, and despite being dressed as a baby, they assumed that I was one of their officers. Who was it who said that ‘clothes maketh the man’?

The New Year’s Eve parties were quite a tradition in the years that I spent in Aden. We did not always go as a tableau, or group, occasionally we decided to go as individuals. I remember one year going as a Masai warrior. I was very slim in those days and I covered my body from head to toe in the ochre paint worn by the Masai. The true Masai warriors were always virtually naked but draped  in a large cloak. I dyed the tiniest pair of underpants to match the ochre on my body and so therefore, to all intents and purposes, appeared to be naked like the Warriors. I wore a cloak, a Masai   headdress, a beaded belt with a short panga (sheathed dagger) and was armed with a tall spear. I was a fine sight! The individual contestants were invited to circle around amongst other guests so that the winners could be chosen. There was one elderly lady there, sitting on the edge of the circle, viewing the contestants through her lorgnette and every time I passed by I heard her say, “Disgusting”. I think she loved every minute of it at her age! I won first prize.

The  New Year’s Eve parties, in Aden, were great events as we had little to do between Christmas and New Year and spent most of that time preparing our costumes and getting ready for the party. On the night we tended to take our ‘boys’ (servants) with us who looked after our food and drink needs having taken the odd case or two of champagne with us. I think breakfast was served around 4 a.m after which we would all go for a swim. The thought of such a long evening now quite exhausts me but then we were young in those days.

When we came back to the UK, in 1964, we would attend the pretty standard New Year’s Eve parties that are given in this country. Lasting until midnight when we would all sing Auld Lang Syne and when our energy wilted after that we would wend our way home. When even those parties became too much for us would celebrate the event at home, perhaps cracking a bottle of champagne at midnight. Now, very boringly, we go to bed at our normal hour and wish each other a happy New Year the following morning.

So, in that spirit, I wish all my readers joy, happiness, good health and prosperity in 2011 -none of us know what it holds for us but in the meantime go on blogging. Just to around the year off I include a couple of photographs taken by the good doctor of yours truly in my study working on the laptop. One at the top and one here

29 December 2010

The restless Michael was on his way again mid-morning this time to catch the euro express to Lille, France and then onward to some very good friends of his in Belgium. He will be back,. he’s never away for long.

At lunchtime, two of my cricketing buddies Paul Newman and Roger Goodwin, braved what was left of the winter elements and drove from London, together with Judith, a friend of Paul’s-another cricket aficionado-and Christine Rogers wife. They very kindly gave me lunch next door at the Cricketers public house. These lunches are becoming such a regular event that I will be acquiring a reputation of being a pub man which I have never been.

It was great fun seeing these two ‘reprobates’ out of what would normally be the cricket season and, of course, we were able to ramble on extensively about the success of our team in Australia. Alice had so much to do after Christmas she decided against joining us for lunch but invited them all back for a coffee so was able to meet  ‘the girls’ who she had not met before but had, of course, heard about. She liked them both and they got on well. They all went off mid-afternoon before the fog descended. It was not without a twinge of sadness that I took this to be the final social event of the Christmas festive season.

I received a telephone call, this afternoon, from Cyprus from one of my ex-pupils, Anna Styliano, enquiring how I was and wishing us all a happy New Year. I’ve grown very fond of Anna over the last 15 or so years and apart from being one of my pupils she became  a good friend and always looked after me wonderfully well when I was in Cyprus and stop. It was kind of her to think of me at Christmas, particularly as she has a large family of her own will stop. As I have regularly visited Cyprus over the past 10 or 12 years, on some sort of teaching assignment or other, I got to know the Styliano family very well and they will be one of the many things I shall miss in the future..

28 December 2010

The snow in the garden is thawing fast almost as if it knows that the Christmas festivities will shortly be a distant memory.’ My lovely’ will be ‘ sorting out the house’, getting back to normal and Michael is sitting upstairs in his room working on his various reports. I am quite keen to draft an entry for New Year’s Day reflecting my view of the year ahead.

Today is not anticlimactic after the excitement of Christmas but merely a question of taking stock. A quiet contemplatives day.

Another fantastic day’s cricket for England. As one of the columnist said, it is a day you will never forget . England is on the verge of victory. They continued batting on and despite losing two wickets fairly cheaply, early on, finished with a total of 513 leading Australia by 246 rounds. The star of the show was Jonathan Trott who finished 164 not out. England then chipped away at the Australians, taking six wickets for 169. Still way behind England and well-deserved victory should be theirs tomorrow morning. I was saddened by the Australian captain, Ponting’s unsportsmanlike demonstrations with the umpires over a decision which had gone against them. Such a pity for someone who has undoubtedly been a great hero in Australia for so many years to demonstrate such bad sportsmanship and probably retire on a sour note .

27 December 2010

Another public and bank holiday, as indeed is tomorrow.

This is because Christmas Day and Boxing Day fell on a weekend and the populace are entitled to a day off for each of these Christmas holidays as they would not normally be working at the weekend then clearly they have to have other days off in lieu.

The only disadvantage is that it tends to be a time when many of the shops are closed and there is a very limited transportation. Mainline trains and undergrounds seem to work on a skeleton basis as if people do not need or wish to move around on the two days! (Poor Michael took four hours to get here from Heathrow instead of the usual 2 ½. hours.

I think I will again very quickly deal with the cricket which, for the aficionados, is extremely exciting. England finished the day (or most of the night for me) in Melbourne with 444 runs on the board and five wickets in hand. In other words they are 346 ahead of Australia’s first innings score. Trott was the star of the day finishing 139 not out. I suspect England will bat on tomorrow morning and declares sometime before, or shortly after, lunch leaving plenty of time to skittle out the Australians and retain the Ashes.

Today is our sort of second bite at Christmas with the arrival of Chloe and family for lunch. Mid-morning we are expecting the good doctor to arrive from Australia, who we anticipate will stay a couple of days. Then the day after he leaves my cricketing pals come down from London to give me lunch at the pub next door. After that we can resume some sort of normal routine.

I have had a great idea for a new commercial venture. We have, what is known as, a lifting belt which is strapped tightly around my middle and has two handles sewn into it which we use when I’m getting up and out of the chairs and onto my walking frame. Sometimes I require a little assistance which is where the belt comes into play. Yesterday, having put on the belt and tightened it, ‘my lovely’ forgot to loosen it before I had my lunch and not realising it was there I really could only eat very little without feeling completely full. So, I thought, that instead of people, with a severe weight problem, going into hospital and having their internal stomachs stapled together, maybe something on the lines of this lifting belt, strapped on before each meal, would be much cheaper alternative and achieve the same effect. This is the time of year when a great number of people having over indulged make rash promises to themselves which they rarely manage to keep one of the most frequently  being to diet, This resolve is usually soon forgotten or, at least, ignored. The belt seems to me be a simple and inexpensive alternative. I think I would try to get one of my chubbier friends to try it out.

The family arrived just before lunch which we had in the breakfast room overlooking the garden. It was lovely to see them all and they clearly had a great Christmas with Karl’s mother. Some of the more adventurous ones went out after lunch into the garden and made a monster snowman and the other, weary ones, slumbered by the log fire until the inevitable fruitcake and Christmas fare was offered at teatime. I’m so glad that Michael has at last met up with the Volz’s family as they had heard so much about him over the years, and are very grateful to him for the way that he has looked after me recently -I know that he enjoyed meeting them. They left, after tea, on their final leg home after having been away since Christmas Eve.

Our present to the children was tickets to the West End show Oliver (of course, based on Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist).

One of Fred’s contemporaries at school is the alternate Oliver and it might well be that they will have the pleasure of seeing him acting that part on Wednesday next.

After the inevitably boisterous herd had departed and, after a brief rest. it was time to crack open a bottle of champagne with the good Dr and enjoy a small cigar to celebrate, what I suppose, we must now accept is, the end of a very happy Christmas.

26 December 2010-Boxing Day

 

.For my overseas readers who do not know or recognise, what is Boxing Day, I give the following explanation.It is, the day after Christmas Day and is a bank and public holiday observed, not only in this country but also Australia, Austria, Canada, and many other countries including most of the Commonwealth countries with a Christian background. Traditionally Boxing Day was the day on which any Christmas Box was opened and the contents shared with the poor. Today, at least in the UK, it is a time when we reward trades people like the postman, the dustman, the milkman, the paperboy etc., in other words people who attend to us almost every day of the year. It is our usual practice to reward these marvellous people. who battle through all weather, wet or fine, to come to our home to provide us with a service. The current practices is to give them a gift or, more generally, small amount of money. When I was young, representatives from these various trades would present themselves at your house on Boxing Day. However, the practice now is to give them their envelope any time in the weeks running up to Christmas. Also, in my youth, Boxing Day would have been the day when an employer might well have given a Christmas bonus to his employees

Originally, during the Age of Exploration, when great sailing ships were setting off to discover  new lands, a Christmas Box was used as a good luck device. It was a small container placed on each ship while it was still in port. It was put there by a priest, and those crewmen who wanted to ensure a safe return would drop money into the box. It was then sealed up and kept on board for the entire voyage. If the ship came home safely, the box was handed over to the priest in exchange for the saying of a Mass of thanks for the success of the voyage. The priest would keep the box sealed until Christmas when he would open it to share the contents with the poor.

Another traditional practice was to place an ‘Alms Box’ in every church at Christmas, in which worshippers placed a gift for the poor of the parish. These boxes were always opened after Christmas, which is why that day became known as Boxing Day. This is still practised in some churches today.

On a final note, for those who are familiar with the English Christmas carols, Boxing Day is also St Stephen’s Day. The day on which, according to the Carol,  ‘good King Wenceslas’ went forth to find the poor man sheltering from the blizzard and invited him in to eat and drink with him.

Our big excitement of Boxing Day is to don on some warm clothes and wellingtons and go off to see the meet of the local hunt. Again, for the overseas readers, this is a meeting of Huntsmen and women on horseback, smartly attired, with a pack of foxhounds which they will use to flush out foxes from copses of trees and then give chase on horseback. The Master and the Whiper’s-in are usually attired in pink jackets. On a crisp winters morning, the ‘meet’ is an invigorating place to see one’s local friends and take some fresh air after the excesses of the previous day. Sadly, I can no longer go myself. The wheelchair would simply be impossible to push across the muddy field but the young went. In fact, Smiler and Alice and once sponsored one of the hounds. which meant they paid a small annual amount towards its upkeep.

This year, as Boxing Day falls on a Sunday, there is no meet. In any event, would have been most unlikely they would have hunted today with the frozen ground. The actual meet will take place tomorrow.

Boxing Day is also very much a family day. Those who have come to spend Christmas usually staying on to continue to enjoy the good food and drink and perhaps, again in the evening, play more games. During the day, all and sundry spent a little time  enjoying the generous presents given to them the previous day.

Smiler and Kimberly left mid-afternoon so we will have a quiet period, probably watching some of our favourite television programmes this evening, before the ‘invasion’ of the other half of the family tomorrow and the arrival of the’ good’ Doctor Michael from Melbourne.

Speaking of Melbourne gives me the feeble excuse to briefly touch on the incredible beginning of the fourth Test match in the Ashes series. Incredibly Australia were all bowled out for 98 having been 40 for 1. Not since 1936 have  Australia made a lowest score in an Ashes series. Add to that the two openers, Straus and  Cook, surviving for, what was left of the day, scoring 156 runs and thus  putting England 58 runs ahead with all their wickets in hand. With four days to go provided England can score, say, around 400 runs, they should be in an invincible position to win the series.

Christmas Day 2010

On this magical day, this RED LETTER DAY, around mid-morning, THIS BLOG PASSED THE 1 MILLION HITS MARK, isn’t that amazing, particularly when you consider that around 900,000 of these were in the last 12 months. I thought to celebrate this event I would describe, largely for the benefit of my overseas readers, a fairly typical Christmas day in the UK, at least a fairly typical Christmas day for my family.

We have lived in this house for 45 Christmases – this will be our 46^th. – and established a routine early which has changed very little over the years. So much so that I could tell anyone who is interested what we might be doing at any time of the day. Sadly, this last two or three years year this routine has now come to an end but the memories will last forever.

What then would have been our typical Christmas Day? When our own children were very young and still got excited about Christmas, we would hear noises coming from their room around five or six in the morning. Provided it was not too early we would then invite them to join us in our four-poster to open their stockings. (Even I got one for the first 30 years or so as ‘ my lovely’ always said I was deprived as a child and she was going to make up for it). Once the excitement was over and the youngsters had taken their new presents back to their own room, I would go downstairs and bring back to bed a cup of tea for both of us -although in the latter years this was taken over by Alice -before dressing and getting the children up for a late breakfast.

Then it would be time to get ready to go to the family Carol service, at the church, at the other end of the village – sometimes a 10.30 service or other times 11.00. (Our poor vicar now has three parishes and has to dash from one church to another on Christmas morning) This service was usually directed towards the children who the vicar would often invite to gather around  a model of the Nativity from whence he  would give his sermon. When the main service was over, those amongst the congregation who had been previously confirmed and wished to take communion stayed on for what was a relatively short service. In any event, we would all meet up after church at the William-Powlett’s – one of the ‘ old faithful’ families who live,  conveniently for us, very near the church -where we would enjoy a glass or two of champagne.

In the meantime ‘ my lovely’ would have stayed at home to prepare the Christmas Day meal  – is it the only day of the year you would have Dinner at Lunchtime?-  (in the earlier days she would have gone to the midnight service) so we always got back around 1.00 to sit round a beautifully decorated Christmas dining table. Sometimes there would be silver candlesticks with red candles and other times they might be crystal. The family silver would be brought out and an array of glittering glasses of various sizes would adorn each place setting. There would be  gaily coloured crackers next to each to persons place and  a centrepiece of  flowers; with nuts and sugared fruit on the table. A wonderful sight.

Traditionally we would have a free range turkey with, as they say, ‘all the trimmings’ (although in Victorian times this would more generally have been a goose which would have been herded down from Norfolk over a week or two before Christmas pausing on local common land to graze, thus the large number of ‘ Goose Green’s, in East Anglia). The turkey would be stuffed with something appropriate, such as sage and onion or chestnut stuffing and arrive on a large plateau surrounded by prunes wrapped in streaky bacon; baked sausage meat; golden crisp roast potatoes and, one of my favourite vegetables, brussel sprouts. There will also be a large honey roasted ham to supplement the turkey and a variety of chutneys and cranberry sauce on the table.

In some of the earlier years, with up to 22 sitting down for the Christmas meal, the turkey would be too large for our own oven and we would have to ask the proprietors of The Cricketers Pub, next door, to be kind enough to cook it for us.

After the main course, which you can imagine  took some time to eat, we would put out the lights and darken the dining room and bring in the Christmas pudding, adorned with a sprig of holly and doused in burning brandy. This would be eaten with brandy butter or cream together with perhaps a mince pie or for those who preferred it a bowl of tropical fruit. It would then be time to pull the crackers and to read out the crazy jokes and to don on the festive paper hats that we found inside them. After the pudding we would usually get stuck into a large bowl of shelled nuts or the sugared fruits. For those with  large appetites there was also a cheese board which would include a fine Stilton. Of course, all of this would be served with a decent red wine and port for those who took Stilton, with appropriate non-alcoholic drinks  for the teetotallers and the children. This feast invariably took us to 3 p.m when the Queen was due to address millions of her subjects throughout the Commonwealth. We would leave the dining room table and troop into the study to listen to this speech, standing to attention for the national anthem when it was played.

The children, having been palpably  patient up to now began to get excited as this was the time we all went into the drawing-room to open their big presents and, indeed, when the adults would open theirs. In the early days I would have disappeared to don on my Father Christmas outfit and appear, suitably padded with a plump cushion, at the door. ‘ho,ho.hoing’,with a huge stack slung over my shoulder, mumbling about having tied up the reindeer outside and then seat myself next to the twinkling lights on the gaily dressed  Christmas tree, in the inglenook containing the didan, where a gross pile of gaily wrapped presents be waiting to be dished out. Father Christmas’ little helpers will run backwards and forwards to the lucky recipients after which Father Christmas would make some excuse about having to move on to give presents to other children and I would disappear only to reappear a few moments later asking the children present what had been going on. (In the latter years, my dear son Miles assumed this role) All a complete charade, I agree, but one which even the adults appeared to enjoy.

This distribution of presents usually took the best part of an hour after which the more mature male members of the party could snooze over a glass of port and a cigar in between trying to decipher the instructions which accompanied a number of the mechanical or electrically operated presents. Around five o’clock it was time for tea and Christmas cake, (invariably baked and donated by Judith W-P ever since she became aware of my penchant for a really good fruitcake), if anyone could face it, after which the next hour or so would be spent again looking at and enjoying one’s presents. Six o’clock was traditionally the time I would open the champagne and that would take us through to 7.30 or so when we would usually have a very light supper of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs plus anything else we fancied on the pudding side. (This year, dear Kimberly, assisted by Smiler, gave’ my lovely a rest and)’ prepared supper for us)

Depending on the age of the children (or grandchildren) those who should then be in bed were put to bed, the older ones usually being allowed to stay up a little later, being Christmas. It was then time for party games. These varied over the years from the physical – charades; acting out book, film or TV titles, to the mental such as Trivial Pursuits; Pictogram, Articulate or the ‘ dictionary game’. By 10 o’clock or 10.30 most of the older adults were not only sated with food and drink but were also beginning to flag  doing battle over the games, with the younger members, and so retired. Another very happy and memorable day.

Nothing lasts for ever. For example, this year there only being four of us and the girls wantingg to read their books, Smiler and I decided to play a little backgammon although when it came to it I decided I was a little wary so we just chatted until bedtime.

 Once our daughter Chloe was married we had to share her with our in-laws and then there was the consolation of repeating much of what we did in the earlier years with the grandchildren. We were also getting to the age where ‘my lovely’ and I would kindly be invited to spend Christmas in the bosom of my daughter’s family.

This year, although we have been at home, with the smallest number we have ever been over the festive season, just the two of us plus Smiler and the lovely Kimberly. we had a lovely day/ Apart from not having the numbers for party games, the rest of the day was pretty close to typical. Just as enjoyable in it’s own way as with the wider family. It’s just as well, we were few in number, as half the drawing-room has been given over to me as a bedroom but the other half is as always, festive and glowing with the log fire.

Having described this idyllic Christmas Day I would hate to leave any reader with the impression that we do not all thoroughly appreciate how very, very fortunate we are and spare a thought for the many who are nowhere near as blessed as we are. There are times, throughout the year, when we would have all done something to alleviate the misery of less fortunate people than ourselves but today is all about the family – Chloe and Karl would probably say the family of Christ – but in any event,  one’s own family.

24 December 2010-Christmas Eve

 

For most of the last 46 years, since we have lived in this house, we given a Christmas Eve party for the half a dozen or so couples, who moved into the area, about the same time as we did, and who we met through taking our children to the local primary school. These were  subsequently dubbed the ‘old faithfuls’ , we also invited  a few other village folk, making up around 30 or so. In the early days they would all bring their small children with them, but as each family grew, both in numbers and size, it soon became impossible to house so many people, so the party was then restricted to ‘ adults’ other than family – this, despite some of the ‘ children’ still being classified as such in their 30s and 40s!

Our house is a idyllically designed for such an event, particularly if there has been a dusting of snow in the garden and on the thatch. You could say it comes straight off the most sentimental Christmas card. The main sitting room has a large inglenook fireplace at each end — the room originally being the ground floor of adjacent peasant cottages in the 16th century. At one end there would be a roaring log fire and the other housed a Welsh didan, (Court cupboard) which now cleverly conceals  modern musical equipment which softly played carols from King’s College Cambridge. ‘ My lovely’ usually decorates each of the oak beams over the inglenooks with  woven branches of laurel leaves, green tinsel with large red bows between and maybe a little Holly with red berries, (no doubt our laurels substituting for the ivy, in the traditional British carol, The Hole in the Ivy). The tables and windowsills would be covered in colourful Christmas cards and there would be a laurel wreath and red ribbon on the front door and some further appropriate decorations in the hall.

In the early days I used to delight in giving my guests hot, spiced mulled wine, indeed, initially, wine that I had made myself. Nobody complained but  we were all young then! As the years went by, and the preparation of the mulled wine became a bit of a fag, I switched to Bucks Fizz (champagne with a dash of orange juice) or for the purists, a decent glass of champagne. Alice would produce some little cocktail eats, miniature sausage rolls, sausage on sticks, prawns in batter etc The funny thing is, I never really enjoyed these parties. Having done what I needed to do, in terms of preparation, I would have happily slunk away and sat quietly in my study. I just do not like large gatherings. On the other hand give me a small dinner party where you can speak to everyone present and I’m in my element.

The last of the guests having left – and isn’t there always one couple who comes late and leaves long after everyone else, when you’re dying to have your supper? (I shall not shame and name them but if they read this blog they will know who there are!) The remaining family, who were to spend Christmas with us, would then sit down to a light supper as we knew that the following day held many gastronomic treats for us. Sometimes we might be entertained by a group of local carol singers   or perhaps make a trip, to the other end of the village, where there was traditionally an open air carol service attended by 40 or 50 villagers, who would dole out glasses of mulled wine and mince pies. (Did you know that there is an old country saying that you should eat 12 mince pies before Christmas to ensure good luck for the following year?)

As our own family grew and grand children appeared, the number of people invited also grew to a point where overflow rooms were necessary. But, the onset of the MND meant that it was  with little regret that we ceased giving this party two or three years ago.

When our children were young and the last of the family or guests had gone to bed, my final act would be to don on my Father Christmas outfit and creep into the children’s rooms to deposit a large sock full of small presents, on the end of each bed, (always finishing with a tangerine in the toe of the sock, why?) which would greet the youngsters when they woke up in the morning. They had, of course, earlier in the evening, insisted that we left a glass of sherry and something to eat, by the fireplace, for Father Christmas when he came down the chimney to deliver these presents!

I only describe this in this amount of data as it was our traditional way to begin the Christmas festivities. No doubt, similar to thousands of other British families but perhaps of interest to many of my overseas readers.

This year, of course, it was different. We were the smallest gathering we have ever had. Inevitably because Chloe and family have gone off to her in-laws and what parents,  ‘my lovely’ and I still have living are too frail to undertake the long journey to our house. Nevertheless, my dear son Smiler and Kimberl arrived late afternoon after a not too difficult journey on the roads and we shall enjoy Christmas, in our own way, as much as we ever did.

23 December 2010

Today was all about rushing round to pick up the last of the food and presents and gift wrapping them, none with which, sadly, I could help. Jane — the sheep — came which allowed ‘my lovely’ to slip out to the shops and, at least, pick up our turkey.

Lynn, our very conscientious OT, insisted on coming to prepare some more hand splints for me as she would be off until 8 January and didn’t wish to leave it that long. Wasn’t that kind and considerate of her bearing in mind the proximity of Christmas and the amount she has to do in preparation for her own family celebrations. What I now have is purpose-made splints that not many keep my wrist straight from my arm would also stretch my curling fingers. The hope is that, over time, we managed to stretch the tendons back a little or, at least,  delay the curling process.

Sadly, shopping today is now turning more and more towards the Internet. I suppose I should be grateful because it’s perfect from my point of view. For example, I was able to secure a book from Amazon, for which  Alice really did not have time to go and hunt, and it arrived yesterday, despite the bad weather, which was a great blessing, as did another giant present ordered as a surprise for somebody, from Smiler.

For many years now, when it comes to Christmas, birthdays and wedding anniversaries, I have always allowed  ‘my lovely’ to buy her own presents. This is not really as chauvinistic as it sounds. In the early days of our marriage I would wander round the ladies departments and select some attractive lacy negligee, or whatever, and, perhaps having found something I thought suitable, ask one of the lady assistants, who looked roughly the same size as Alice, to hold up against herself. I’m not sure that this was particularly popular! Even taking this precaution I would often end up with the wrong size, and after ‘my lovely’ had made the usual kind comments about how thoughtful I was and she really loved it, and so on, receive the  enquiry from her ‘ did you keep the bill’. I soon realised that it would be far better if, during the year, on  her almost weekly visits to antique fairs, she found things that she really loved that I could buy from her and put away Then I could bring them out, On an appropriate occasion, hoping perhaps she’d forgotten what it was, and therefore it would be somewhat of a surprise. I thought would really work best, and it has. The only problem now is that I can no longer even wrap up the wretched presents  – there are  usually two or three, particularly at Christmas –  or write a nice little salutation in the card. The poor old thing as to do the whole process herself. The only saving grace being that, at least, I still pay for them but even then she has to make and signed the cheque as I can no longer write.

Talking of shopping there is a move afoot, it seems, to phase out cheques. ‘My lovely’ does not subscribe to Internet banking., She does not really like giving her credit card details over the telephone and I have a great deal of sympathy with her and the thousands of other elderly people who are just not ‘into computers’. In fact she accosted our local MP in the supermarket yesterday  – I’m sure he was thrilled to bits! – to make the point, as, only this very day she had received notification from her bank informing her that they would no longer guarantee her cheques if she did not have sufficient money in her account to cover the amount being drawn out.  In her case this is unlikely to be a problem-unlike, when I married her when she had happily run up a large overdraft, mainly spent on hats and dresses!-but is this the beginning of the end of cheques and what will replace them for people like ‘ my lovely’ -Postal orders?

22 December 2010

They say the British speak about nothing but the weather but it would be remiss of me not to mention that the sub-temperature freeze continues and that many people’s Christmas’ may end up quite different to what was planned. I received an e-mail from a cousin of ours in Toronto, who is a regular blog reader, who was rather amused to point out that they were having one of the milder winters, with only about an inch of snow, and the problem was not ‘planes taking off from there, so much as not being able to land here.

For obvious reasons our Christmas will be different this year than any other but nevertheless I am looking forward to it. Smiler and Kimberly will be joining us on Christmas Eve and Chloe and family come down for the day after Boxing Day when we’re hoping that Michael, from Australia, will the with us, for a couple of days, en route to Sweden.

‘My lovely’ has done her very best to create a festive atmosphere with a limited amount of laurel and tinsel. We also have a very dear little Christmas tree in the breakfast room.

We are still going to be able to use our drawing room, and enjoy our log fire, despite one end being occupied by my bed. Of course, normal Christmas shopping has been severely limited by the unusually inclement weather, so I think Alice has done wonders under the circumstances and we will have just as good at Christmas is over. (We still have to collect our turkey!)