A GOOD NEW YEAR TO ONE AND ALL.

New Year is upon us again, as I get older the speed with which it comes around is astonishing, it really seems no time at all since last New Year, but the intervening months have wrought a change which , this time last year could have hardly been imagined. The possibility of moving out of London had only just been mooted and not one of us believed that this move would take place before the end of summer.

Pa's health and my own have improved in many ways, thanks in a large part to our new G.P. who unlike our London doctor actually seems to give a damn! His fine tuning the massive amounts of medication we both take has eased many of the debilitating side effects which our medication has caused for some years. In many ways it is almost as if we had all been given a new life, it is certainly a new beginning for us all.

This time last year my son had been writing for just a few months, one year on and he has written eleven books sales of which have soared to heights he could only have dreamed of, his ratings have taken off like a rocket and the five star reviews have flooded in.

Yes, we all have much for which to be thankful and I am sure I am......very !

Tomorrow he begins a new novel and is full of ideas for a completely new series in a totally different genre to be written early next year, he can hardly wait to begin.

Whatever the New Year holds for the three of us we are all happy on the last night of the old one, we shall watch together as the last moments of 2014 tick away and toast 2015 with thankful hearts for mercies received.

A Very Happy New Year to one and all and may 2015 be the the year in which all your dreams come true.

FIRE AND FROST

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The past couple of nights have been very cold,covering the roofs, the ground and the trees in a glittering white blanket of frost while rising mists and skies tinged with pink have made for some very pretty sunrises. The downside of all this is of course the perishing cold which has been more than sufficient to cause the customary damage to the legendary “brass monkey”!

I have now taken to wearing a thick fleece dressing gown over my thick fleece nightdress when I get up to look after Pa during the night ,or to check the status of the fire in the library at six in the morning. Both of our cats have found for themselves warm winter roosts, Twiggy snuggles down on my bed during the day taking advantage of the thick fur throw which keeps me warm at night.

During the night she sleeps on Pa's bed where she spends the night being cosseted by it's sleepless occupant.

Moth has chosen to remain downstairs in the library where the fire remains burning throughout the night, often sleeping on my chair beside the fire on yet another fur rug, or in her own snug cat bed in my son's study. Neither of the cats has shown any real interest in going outside since the severe frost began, I suppose it must be unpleasant to have ones paws in contact with the freezing ground and they are very wise to remain indoors where it is warm.

Cats are popular as pets in the village and our garden is regularly visited by seven different cats, one in particular, a handsome gentleman sporting a jet black coat, four white feet, long white whiskers and who rejoices in the name of “Socks” has taken things a step further and now comes in doors to warm himself before the fire and to explore.

His attentions are not exactly welcomed by the ladies, in fact this morning he was given “the bums rush” in no uncertain terms by an irate Twiggy when he had the temerity to venture upstairs. Small and dainty she may be but when she is angry she is a fearsome beast indeed.

The buggy repair man came today and I now have my wheels back,for which relief, much thanks, I do so hate to be grounded and must get out into the fresh air every day or I very soon become sleepy and sluggish. It really was very kind of him to come out so soon after Christmas and it is easy to see why he came so highly recommended.

I expect it is a combination of spending too much time indoors, eating too much and of course spending half the night awake which has made me feel so tired of late, oh well, only a couple more days of over indulgence and then it will be back to “Doctor Doom's Death or Glory diet!”

With the New Year will come forays in to the lanes to pick catkins and pussy willows for the vases,already daffodil bulbs are pushing through the frozen ground and are several inches high among the leaf litter under the trees at the bottom of the garden. But for now the pleasures of hearth and home are more than enough for a tired but very happy Avie.

SELECTIVE BLINDNESS

During a conversation with at a party I recently attended the conversation turned to the problem of the homeless. Having recently moved here from London this is a subject with which I am all too familiar, and although I lived in the city for twenty five years I never got used to the sight of some poor soul huddled in dirty clothes on a road side bench or a shop doorway.

The company I found myself in recently took a dim view of “Vagrants”! Considering them a bunch of deadbeats, down and outs and beggars and listening to their , at best ill informed at worst down right bigoted opinions made me realise how little people actually care about their fellow men.

I gently pointed out that many of these wretched people once had ordinary lives,had families and homes, knew the joy of Christmas, loved and were loved in return. Each one has a story, usually tragic, a history of what brought them to their present state and that I believed that it vital for us all to understand how very easy it is for any one of us the become reduced to the same condition.

The problem is that of course my acquaintance, like much of the world live in comfortable surroundings with enough, or more than enough to live comfortable and happy lives, they never stop to think of what they might become in the extreme circumstances that can catapult a person in to destitution.

The death of a loved one, divorce, depression, mental illness,loss of employment are just some of the causes and there are many more. When a person loses their home, for what ever reason and find themselves on the slippery slope the slide in to vagrancy,alcohol abuse and drug addiction can be devastating and rapid. Yet it is easier for the comfortably well off to believe that these unfortunates are just a bunch of feckless wasters, drunks or drug addicts who have brought their predicament upon themselves.

Yet they are not heartless  happily donating money or their time to helping the needy in third world countries, yet the homeless old man trying to sleep on a park bench or the bag lady with her scant belongings loaded in to a decrepit pushchair they totally ignore because, quite literally their plight is too close to home! 

Smug in their own well being they cannot countenance the possibility that this awfulness could possibly happen to them.... and yet it so easily could, to any one of them.

People who earn plenty of money tend to have an exalted opinion of their place in society, the scourge of middle class life that it blinkers those who “belong” to it, and makes them oblivious to the needs of others less fortunate than themselves.

You hear such remarks as “We have to work hard to maintain out comfortable lifestyle, why should we waste out hard earned cash on such wastrel’s?”

The truth is that no matter how much a person earns each month if they have to work for their living they are “working class”although to tell them this calls forth howls of denial.

If any one of these self satisfied individuals lost their employment and were unable to service their vast mortgages, credit card bills ect, how long would it be before they found themselves with nothing?

How long before they used up all their savings,assuming they have any ,for these days many live up to the limit of their earnings to maintain a good appearance or fund their holidays abroad? A few months,a year maybe, then what?

With their cosy homes repossessed, their bank accounts frozen, their possessions sold off to repay their debts and no job how would they cope. The best they could hope for in these enlightened times is totally inadequate emergency accommodation in a Bed and Breakfast or one room in a run down hostel.

Unable to afford their children's school fees they would have to place their offspring in school near to there new address and the culture shock of these change would be devastating for the youngsters and parents alike.

Many couples divorce during times of such stress and one partner always comes off worse.

The fact is that most of us are just a couple of pay checks away from becoming homeless ourselves, and this fact is hard to face.

It is so much easier to dismiss the homeless as scroungers and scum, to disassociate ourselves from their plight and go on enjoying our cosy lives.

This attitude was summed up for me by one of the ladies at the party who, having listened to what I had to say considered for a moment and then said “Ah yes, but why don't they help themselves, there must be a way out if they were willing to find it,”

Ignorance, sheer unpardonable ignorance, or denial? For what ever reason these people of more wealth than imagination will always believe it impossible that they could find themselves in such a position.....let us hope for their sake that they are right!

AN INVITATION

Boxing day was every bit as wonderful as Christmas day,we played games,ate lots of chocolate and drank a modest amount of Scotch!! The severe weather warnings for snow amounted to nothing more than a few flakes and a good deal of heavy rain,a little disappointing but one cannot have everything.

After dinner we sat together in the library,my son had placed a small sachet of crystals among the burning logs , and the resulting display of vivid blues and greens, purples reds and the most amazing shades of turquoise kept us enthralled for almost an hour. It was during this unusual display that we heard a knock at the door.

The caller was a neighbour who had brought with her an invitation for all of us to a small party at her home on the evening of the next day and although Pa and I seldom go out in the evenings these days we accepted with pleasure. I knew my son would refuse if we were unable to attend and I knew that he would really like to have an evening out,and besides,it might be fun.

My son is not writing at the moment and this gives us more time for fun,in the afternoon we divided our time between playing board games and preparing for our evening out, I even put on some make up, a thing I seldom do these days and by the time we were ready to leave I looked quite presentable! At five fifteen we all trudged up the dark lane, the rain had stopped and the sky was clear,quite a novelty these days, yet another puncture meant that my buggy was grounded but with the aid of my trusty walking stick and my sons arm we arrived at our destination without incident.

Out hosts live in a very pretty cottage at the top of the lane quite small but every bit as lovely inside as it is out. We were ushered in to a cosy room beautifully lit with fairy lights and filled with interesting old furniture. Since all the other guests were neighbours there was no awkwardness and everyone chatted away while our hosts very busy filling our glasses and handing round delicious plates of smoked salmon and small pastries.

All went well until the talk turned to the Boxing Day Hunt, and occasion where the “County Set” get together on horse back with a pack of hounds and chase an unfortunate fox until, dropping with exhaustion it is torn to pieces by the excited dogs. Although I was born and raised in the countryside I have never understood this barbarous practice, surely it is possible to exercise both dogs and horses without the need for such brutality?

I agree that it is a picturesque sight, the beautiful horses with their red jacketed riders streaming across the open farmland in the clear frosty air but for me that does not justify the end result. Supporters of this ghastly business tell you that it is sport, but believe me there is nothing sporting about blocking up all the fox earth,s for mile around to ensure that the poor creature has no refuge and this is common practice.

Some years ago a law was passes to prevent the killing of foxes in this way, this law is universally ignored by the hunters who excuse their law breaking by claiming that it is vital to the economy of the countryside,this is absolute tosh!  They will also claim that it is only town people who fail to understand the importance of being able to take part in this rural farce, yet many farmers dislike the hunt which can cause considerable damage to their fields hedges and livestock.

The problem for them is that many are tenant farmers, dependant on the goodwill of the land owners, most of who can be found following the hounds themselves, it would not do to complain and so they comply with the hunters,it is often their task to locate the fox earth,s and block the entrances. This compliance while understandable is ,none the less despicable and cruel.

Back to the party, where I was asked if I  approved of fox hunting and  if I been to watch the hunt assemble at a nearby public house for the “Stirrup Cup” and I am afraid that I gave my opinion in my usual forthright fashion and it went down like a lead balloon! None of those present actually ride to hounds although one of the ladies arrived wearing jodhpurs , booted and sporting a tweed waistcoat(naff!) and none of them belong to the “County Set”, and it was the overt toadyism which made my blood boil, such people associate themselves with “The Hunt” so as to feel they belong to this fraternity of upper class landowners and increasingly these days the newly wealthy aspirational middle class, professionals.

These types consider the lower orders of society,who keep dogs for the purpose of such activities as dog fighting and hare coursing to be far beneath them when in fact there is no difference between them what-so-ever. They are all engaged in the torture of defenceless creatures purely for their own sick pleasure and their behaviour is every bit as disgraceful.

My family once owned great tracts of land in this part of the world, my own father was a land owner in his own right and he fought against this barbaric sport all his life, as have I...they asked my opinion,and I gave it,that is all. Obviously I refrained, for the sake of politeness from placing them in the “toady” bracket, and they would not have recognised themselves as such even had I done so!

In spite of this disagreement it was a pleasant party,and my son enjoyed himself so it was worth the effort in the end.

At any rate my forthright comments did not seem to offend our hosts , were invited to dinner, and they accepted my sons invitation to our own party to be held early in the New Year.

Unused to evening engagements Pa and I were very tired by the time we returned to our home so I made a quick supper and we all prepared for bed.

I do not regret my remarks,it is well to be honest about ones opinions, otherwise it is easy to get sucked in to the “County Mafia” as I know to my cost. I am certain that my shocking comments will have done the rounds of the village by nightfall tomorrow and although I may now be persona non grata in some quarters it is much better to be notorious than it is to be dull, and frankly as you see from today's pictures I would prefer to spend my time with the fox!!

COUNTRY CHRISTMAS

Christmas morning brought with it a bright blue sky and brilliant sunshine,which caused the crystal hanging in my bedroom window to scatter the walls and ceiling of my bedroom with dozens of tiny rainbows. The air was still and cold and early as it was the village was astir,for young children seldom sleep late on Christmas morning and as I drank my first coffee of the day I watched several new bicycles and their proud owners riding up and down the lane.

A little girl was giving her dolly its first outing in a brand new dolls pushchair and somewhere in the distance the sound of a remote controlled car could be heard, along with excited shouts from it,s lucky owner.

I took the boys a cup of coffee, well laced with Brandy and very soon after we were all assembled in the drawing room for the ceremony of exchanging our gifts My son has presided over this event since a child and hands out the gifts in turn, he is quite the showman which makes for much merriment all round.

I received some beautiful gifts both large and small ,my favourite being a large mug decorated to look like an owl and with it's own knitted cosy to keep my coffee warm.

Breakfast was a cheerful occasion with lots of hot bacon rolls( we were too hungry for just toasted crumpets as we had planned) after which we squirrelled away our gifts and made ready for visitors.

Our friend arrived and we were delighted that her boy friend had been able to come after all, he is a great favourite with us and always makes us laugh with his funny stories and jokes, the next three hours passed pleasantly and so quickly that we were all surprised to discover that it was past four O clock and beginning the be dark outside. We parted with hugs and arranged to meet again on the weekend, as we waved them goodbye it was beginning to freeze so hard that we were glad to return to the fire again.

Later we enjoyed a relaxed dinner of cold meats and cheeses followed by wedges of Christmas cake, and iced cream and were joined by one of our cats who has been in seventh heaven since the turkey came out of the oven yesterday. With her own little of turkey snippets she sat like a queen next to my son whom she openly adores. I have never before known a cat so fond of human society as this little bundle of love.

We spent the evening quietly in the snug library talking over past Christmases and remembering happy time with loved ones no longer with us. I t has always been a source of sadness to me that my dear father died when my son was only a year old. In my heart I keep the memory of his last day with us which he spent holding his grandson in his arms ,and ,ill as he was amusing the little child with funny faces and funny songs.

He would be so proud of the young man who now loves to hear stories of the grandfather her cannot remember but who,s memory we have kept alive for him always. There was no sadness in these memories, my father laughed his way through life and even at the end his courage made the parting easier for us than it might have been and I bless him for this.

Three sleepy people made their way upstairs to bed and we all agreed that this had been one of the best Christmases ever, perhaps even the best and since none of us wanted it to end it was quote some time before we settled down to sleep.

It is now three a.m on Boxing Day morning and I have been awake for about an hour, thankfully the painkillers I took half an hour ago are beginning to take effect and soon I shall be tucked warmly in my snug bed and hopefully asleep again before long.

There is just time to take one last look out of the window across the frosted lawn ewto admire the twinkling fairy lights in the Rectory garden and the bright stars, made still more brilliant by the clear frosty air.

There will be time to count my blessing one more time before I fall asleep, or maybe not, there are so many of them to count. Goodnight.

A MERRY CHRISTMAS

The turkey is roasted and we have feasted like lords,I have spent all day preparing this special meal and how I enjoyed myself,it is such fun to have such wonderful ingredients to play with.
We pulled crackers and drank toasts,even the cats joined the festivities, then we sat for a while in the library toasting ourselves before the fire, where I fell fast asleep.

The boys, bless them cleared the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher so that by the time I was woken gently by my son the chores were all finished, a lovely surprise and one for which I was very thankful.

Tomorrow the only cooking to be done will be the muffins we shall toast on the fire for out Christmas day breakfast, we shall have guests in the afternoon and among them will be children and I am looking forward to this immensely.

And for now, after a very busy and very happy day I am very tired, it is time to take a hot shower and try for an early night,after all, the sooner I am asleep, the sooner Father Christmas will come!

Right now I would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas,  just in case I am too busy to write tomorrow. Enjoy every moment of this wonderful day, Love and hugs to you all.

AN OLD FASHIONED FEAST DAY

Yesterday was entirely given over to the making and icing of a pair of traditional chocolate logs (one for our table and the other a gift for a friend) and the decorating of the Christmas cake. The cake was baked almost two months ago and has been “fed” each week with whisky, now in the peak of condition it smelled like a small distillery when I removed the lid from it's tin.

I decorated the cake with glacé fruits and blanched almonds rather than the ubiquitous white sugar icing and marzipan as Pa prefers this more traditional style (yesterdays blog picture shows the finished cake).

The chocolate logs used masses of butter cream icing, took ages to do and make the devil of a mess in the kitchen, there is nothing quite like melted chocolate for making a mess and by the time the job was done I was fit to play Othello!

After this marathon we had a late dinner of melted Camembert with fried Haloomi and crisp rashers of bacon, served with fresh crusty bread, hot tomato sauce, a warm apricot sauce,and a big salad with lots of celery,simple, fast and gorgeous.

I am overjoyed to report that Pa slept well last night and as a consequence I too spent more time than is usual asleep. This mornings chores required an early start as my son had the bins to do and I had to prepare the whole leg of Gammon for cooking and get it in to the oven by no later than noon.

This piece of meat will take at least six hours to cook it took two of us and considerable brute force to get it in to the oven....pheeeeeew!!!

Our turkey arrived yesterday and will be cooked for dinner on Christmas eve a family tradition, which , happily leaves me with no cooking to do on Christmas day and plenty of cold turkey and ham for a bumper meal of cooked meats and cheeses.

The gammon actually took over six hours to cook and we were hungry enough to do it justice by the time we sat down to dinner. The cat ,moth sat beside my son as usual during the meal daintily accepting morsels of ham placed on her own little plate,her table manners are better than those of some people I know.

The evening news brought a weather warning, apparently another “weather bomb”,(what the hell is a weather bomb and why have I not heard of it before)!! the last one .a couple of weeks ago wrought chaos far and wide and I am thankful that I asked my gardener to dead wood the trees last week. We had noticed the rising wind during the course of the afternoon and were not at all surprised to hear that another gale is expected.

The problem is of course that in spite of all their sophisticated satellites and and tons of technical hardware the Met office cannot really tell exactly when of for that matter exactly where, but judging by the shrieking wind out side I should say that there is a fair chance that if will be here... and quite soon!!!!

My son has done the rounds of the house, bolting doors and locking windows, the fire is well stoked and should stay in all night...with luck, and we are all relaxing for an hour or so before bed. Before dark my son went out in to the grounds to make sure that the doors of the out buildings were secure and no windows open. Everything that can be tied down or put under cover has been dealt with so all we can do now is wait.

I am very glad that I managed to persuade the boys to put log pile by the door and kindling wood in the porch, come what might we shall at least be warm and need not venture far while the worst of the weather passes through. Many years ago a neighbour of mine was almost killed when a tree branch fell on him while he was outside filling the coal scuttle, it made quite an impression on me and I'm sure it did him!

It has been a lovely day, and now, weather,the cat and Pa permitting I intend to try for a good nights sleep, Failing that it will be Whisky and coffee at two in the morning,as usual for Pa and I.....it's a hard life, but I love it. I really do.

NIGHT TIME IN AN OLD HOUSE

All houses take on a completely character during the hours of darkness,it is almost as if they have a secret life which only begins when its daytime occupants have retired to bed for the night. In the ordinary course of events this dual personality remains the houses secret when its residents sleep soundly ,only now and then do they truly inhabit the house at night and often they are awake because of illness of some other less than pleasant reason.

At such times the house quickly returns to normal almost as if it is self conscious, preoccupied we fail to see anything different even when we take the house by surprise!

It is , however quite a different matter for those, who , like myself spend a good deal of time not only awake at night but out of bed and fully alert. Every sound is unexpected and strange, old floor boards make creaks which can seem as loud as pistol shots and windows and doors rattle for all the world as if someone were trying to get in!

It is easy to imagine why, in the days before electric light ,people were convinced that evil spirits roamed about at night ,making them draw their bed curtains or hide under the blankets.

There is no doubt that wandering around a large old house in the dead of night is a spooky experience, even inanimate objects like chairs,hat stands and coats hanging behind a door take on a life of their own and become vaguely sinister .

Many years ago I lived in a modern house and I almost missed the frisson of fear that encountering a strange shadow in the wall or hearing a rustle or a creak can cause. In this house there is no shortage of night time noise, especially on a windy night like tonight ,when everything rattles and groans as each new gust buffets the ancient roof and walls. Stove pipes rattle , stems of climbing roses, detached from their moorings by the gale tap at the windows like Heathcliff's Cathy and the same wind blows across the chimney pots where it's moans are amplified by the cavernous old flues.

From time to time small lumps of soot or maybe old mortar break free and these rattle down the chimney,sounding like scurrying mice...or rats.... and doors creak slowly open, or even slam shut when caught in a particularly fearsome draught.

I have ,with only a years exception lived my whole life on houses of considerable age and am used to this strangeness, it can be almost comforting, when one is alone to feel that the house is sentient, aware of ones presence and putting on a show.

If ,as in this house there really is the odd ghost stamping about there can sometimes be a little too much variety, speaking personally I prefer to have the place to myself as a general rule. Bumping in to a pipe smoking old gentleman in the library at two in the morning can be more than a little disconcerting I find.

Often the only clue to his presence is a wisp of smoke floating in the air,or the pungent whiff of tobacco, at least he uses a pleasant smelling brand.

On still calm nights when there is no wind the smallest sounds become noticeable,the ticking of the library clock, the rustle of a scrap of paper blown across the kitchen floor by the draught from the cat flap. On such nights the comforting sound of the crackling logs burning slowly in the wood stove make cheerful company for those who cannot sleep.

Some times I almost believe I can hear the a different sort of of crackling from the windows as the frost forms fantastic ferny patterns on the glass and when snow falls the sibilant whisper of flakes blown against the same frozen glass can change in a moment to a loud rattle as the falling snow becomes a swirling blizzard of ice crystals.

I often write at during the at this time, when everyone else is fast asleep so often that the sounds of my home at night have become like old friends. When even my little cat is fast asleep the house and I keep company, both wide awake and full of life in a dark and silent world, and when at last my eyes begin to grow heavy with long awaited sleep I pad in slippered feet along the dark landing to my room at the end of the house.

The last sound I hear as I drift into oblivion is the gentle creak of my wooden bed as it accustoms it,s self to my long delayed presence.

Four o clock....it will soon be morning.....goodnight, goodnight.

OUR CHRISTMAS BEGINS

In the normal course of events our Christmas festivities would have begun early last week but with a much less than merry round of hospital appointments, tests and so forth for Pa and myself we decided to delay matters until we could give having fun our undivided attention.

Pa returned from hospital yesterday evening exhausted by the battery of tests which had taken most of the day. My son brought him home and we gave him a good dinner before tucking him up in bed with a cup of cocoa,poor boy, they really had put him through the mill.

This morning we launched out holiday with a breakfast of hot bacon rolls and then set about enjoying ourselves. Pa took it easy at first, just pottering about while my son and I went out to deliver boxes of cookies to our friends , and to collect a few goodies from the village shop.

They stock some of the finest cheeses I have ever tasted at prices it is hard to believe after years of living in rip off London!

We brought a whole Shropshire Black Bomber, a chunk of Shropshire Blue and a lovely creamy garlic cheese which we all love, especially Pa.

I love going shopping with my son, he talks me in to trying new things and I usually love the things he chooses, of course there was the incident with the Welsh Dragon Sausages, my God! They were hotter than the fires of hell and it took a quart of cider to douse the flames. Days later I still had a croak in my voice!

We played games in the drawing room in the afternoon, Scrabble and Dominoes mostly, It is such a cosy room and the two sofas make game playing a comfortable experience, too comfortable for me for I fell asleep half way through a game of Boggle!!

We treated ourselves to a box of chocolates and at four I poured for myself my customary glass of Scotch, sat back and enjoyed watching the sky turn red as the sun set over the hills.

We ate dinner early ,a platter of cooked meats,a selection of cheeses, with pickles and salad, a pork pie and iced cream to follow. I had been ordered to take a day off from cooking so this was a nice easy meal. My son had managed to buy some fresh Cray fish tails for my favourite fresh water fish, perfect with granary bread and fresh mayonnaise.

The village looks so pretty now, houses covered in fairy lights and Christmas trees in all the house windows. The children have finished school for this term and are to be seen about the village chattering excitedly and shouting Merry Christmas to everyone they meet.

Throughout the day cards pooped though the letter box and parcels arrived by courier, the later put away until Christmas Day and I am almost as excited as the children.

I am still trying to decide which lap top to buy, mine is so old it is powered by a hamster on a tread mill! This time it will be one with a bigger screen and graphic I can see. I must also play DVDs and store pictures.... to blazes with “The Cloud” what ever it is! My son says I am getting old... I shall settle with the cheeky young shaver later!

CHRISTMAS PAST

I grew up in a tiny hamlet in the depths of the Staffordshire Moorlands where the countryside is an amazing mixture of wooded valleys,rolling hills and heather covered moorland. It was peppered with rocky out crops which had strange names like Hen Cloud, Ramshaw Rocks and Clouds End,and I loved every one of them.

Of one thing you could be certain,in the winter it snowed, not always in time for Christmas to be sure but I do not remember a single winter when we were not snowed in for a time.

House holders would be sure that they had a healthy log pile close to the house and the women would begin to fill their store cupboards with dry goods in September so that by late November there would be enough food in the house to withstand a siege! This was in the days before refrigerators were common but all the old stone farmhouses like my own home had large pantries with floors and shelves made of stone.

These pantries were always situated on the north east side of the house and trees were planted close by to shade the stone walls in the summer time. I doubt if our refrigerator today is any colder than those pantries for chickens, rabbits and sides of bacon were stored there all the time. At this time of the year there would be half a dozen pheasants still in feather hanging behind the pantry door and the shelves would be filled with home made jams. Jellies pickles and chutney.

Wine too, the home made variety made with the fruits of autumn and summer were plentiful on most homes, cider was not common but beer was often brewed. The top shelf was reserved for the Christmas puddings, my mother usually mad six,one , the taster pudding would always be eaten at the end of November,the rest were reserved for Christmas day or were destined to be gifts to relatives or friends.

Turkeys were uncommon in these times and most families would roast a huge cockerel (fattened for the purpose) for Christmas dinner well stuffed with chestnuts which had been gathered by the village children a few months earlier. A whole gammon, usually home grown would be spread with marmalade, stuck with cloves and roasted, this would provide sandwiches for guests and children's parties, some of it would be made in to pies after the holiday and the bones would be boiled down to make soup, Nothing was wasted in these less than affluent times.

Many of the farmhouses like ours had massive fireplaces in which several people could stand,if they so wished and these were utilised for the smoking of ham and bacon. Every Christmas eve my father would bring in a huge log, specially cut for the purpose, the Yule log. Which would burn for days and ensure a cosy venue for festive gatherings, it was a wonderful time.

By Christmas eve amazing smells would be emanating for the kitchen as a succession of mince pies, pork pies and game pies left the oven and were stored in the pantry until needed.

I remember the mounting excitement of us children as the great day approached, although presents were far less generous that those expected by today's children.

One year my gift was a wonderful dolls house which had been made by my father and furnished beautifully by my Mother and Grandmother, and every year my grand father would give up smoking his pipe in September and save the money to buy presents for my brothers and I.

Christmas Eve was a time for visiting and being visited and we would do the rounds of family and friends delivering gifts of home made sweets or other delicious home made comestibles.

Knowing that we were too excited to be put to bed my father would allow us to fall asleep downstairs before the fire and then carry us up to bed, then he and my mother would make the magic, helped by my grandparents who live with us on the farm.

Christmas Day began with a massive breakfast of eggs and bacon with fried bread, mushrooms fried tomatoes and sausages and then....time for opening our gifts

The men had boxes of cigars and to this day the smell of a cigar whisks me off to those far of times again. For mother and gran there were chocolates and for us children what seemed like dream a come true.

Once again, after many years an exile in a big city I have returned to the countryside and to my everlasting relief I have found that little has changed,the simple joy this season brings is still there, undimmed by commercialism as it so often is in the city.

I can honestly say that I have never been happier than I am right this minute, it's great to be home.

WEIGHTY MATTERS

I set off this afternoon in the pouring rain to have my final weigh in before Christmas. A lot was riding on the result as I hoped to have lost enough to enable me to eat my head off through out the holiday with a relatively clear conscience. Having no scales in the house I had no idea how much weight,if any I had lost in the past month, although the fit of my clothes did suggest that I was considerably slimmer than I have been for quite some time.

The Gods were smiling, I had lost half a stone since my last weigh in a month ago, I headed for home with a song in my heart.

Unfortunately our Christmas food feste cannot begin until tomorrow evening after Pa's hospital tests,to sit around stuffing our faces with chocolates and eating mince pies would be no fun at all while poor old Pa is having to fast for almost thirty six hours.

My son and I ate a modest dinner of grilled chicken (Pa hates chicken) and potato wedges with a salad while Pa remained in his room and had a cup of beef tea. Roll on tomorrow evening,that's all I can say.

Pa was unwell last night and as a consequence neither of us got much sleep. I made hot drinks for him and hooked him up to the T.E.N.S machine in the hope that it would ease his pain a little,and it did. He finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning....I was less fortunate.

The cat Twiggy decided that she wanted to play and for over an hour she cavorted noisily around my bedroom,on the bed,under the bed,in the blasted bed. In the end I got up,switched on my computer and went surfing.

Worn out with the exercise the perishing cat eventually collapsed in a furry heap on my armchair and slept like a baby until lunchtime!!!!! I went downstairs to feed the fire and check on the other feline at around six. It was still dark and the wind had begun to howl....again....With these duties done I hauled myself wearily up the stair and climbed in to my neglected bed where I slept at last,not waking until after nine!

Throughout the day the rain has lashed our village and the wind,getting wilder all the time has caused more than the usual chaos as today was refuse collection day. With all the bins out on the roadside we did not just swap bin lids today, we swapped rubbish as well... nasty!

Late in the afternoon the electrician arrived to fix a broken light fitting,we were all amazed as it normally takes them at least a couple of weeks to get here when we call them out. They did a great job, even fixing another electrical problem on a two for the price of one basis, they were such nice boys, I gave them a box of my home made shortbread each as a thank you and they went away delighted.

The question is,what will tonight bring.....sleep I hope but I am not exactly sanguine as to the likelihood of this rare event. Still ever the optimist I shall prepare for bed and hope for the best. Wish me luck.

PROMISES.PROMISES!

Why in the name of a thousand wonders do on line stores insist upon giving a definite delivery date and, often as not a time when they have no intention of delivering........if you'll pardon the pun? On two separate occasions in the past couple of weeks alone I have received, unsolicited, categoric assurance that my parcel would,a: arrive at my home on a specified date and, b: at a particular time. On both occasions the parcels did not arrive when the were expected,instead I was obliged to chase the supplier two days after the promised date to find out the cause for the delay.

One of the ditsy females who took my call told me ,and I quote. “You need to be patient as the Christmas rush always slows things down!”

Well of course I pointed out,with more courtesy that she deserved that had her company not given me a date and time in the first place, I should not have been concerned when the item did not arrive at the time stated, a concept which seemed to baffle her completely.

After much hanging about and muffled whisperings at the other end of the line both companies came up with the same excuse.....their delivery vehicle had broken down! Naturally I was inclined to wax satirical at these rather obvious untruths. Stung by my sarcasm one of the the young ladies then vouchsafed that “In fact we cannot guarantee a definite delivery date!!!!”

The mind boggles!

Having spent more time than is good for me on my feet for the last few days(and incidentally I enjoyed every minute of it) I found myself this morning in a good deal of pain and with a badly swollen knee. This meant that I was obliged to spent most of the day sitting about ,not my favourite occupation. My trip to the Doctor's surgery this morning had meant an early start to the day which did not help one little bit.

Still I managed to find things to do, including ordering a bespoke picture frame for a lovely picture of my son when he was a child. The picture is an unusual size and I have found it impossible to buy a ready made frame for this precious object. Finally I bit the bullet and paid the extortionate price

asked by an on line picture framer....who insisted upon giving a “definite date for delivery”

This is where I came in!

THE WORLD WEEPS

Somehow it does not seem appropriate tonight to talk about trivial things like baking and getting things ready for Christmas,in the face of the latest Taliban atrocity such trivial pleasures fade into insignificance.

We were at breakfast when the B.B.C began to report on these dreadful events in Pakistan and suddenly the the laughter and jokes died away as we watched the unfolding tragedy in stunned silence.

By dinner time it was obvious that there had been over a hundred deaths,mostly children. I cannot forget the look on the face of a school boy as he told how he had seen two of his tutors shot in the stomach and a third set alight, while all around his class mates were being raked by gun fire. I watched anxious parents searching for news of their children,as a parent myself their terror was only to easy to imagine.

Politics in Pakistan has always been has always turbulent for it is a nation divided by religious differences, and today’s events are a direct result of the unbridled hatred these factions feel for each other. This is no new thing and it is,unfortunately not confined to Pakistan.

Every day in Israel we see similar atrocities carried out by the Jews against the Palestinians. Of course both sides are responsible for acts of terror but it is the Jewish nation which deliberately targets children, bombing schools and children's play areas, they recently dropped a bomb on a beach on which there were only children present claiming afterwards that there were terrorists present. The Jews are engaged in genocide and I find it unpardonable that they, of all peoples can justify such a course.

Mainland Britain was well used to terrorist actions long before the Islamic extremists bombed London. For over twenty years the I.R.A vented it's frustrated rage upon our major cities,killing and maiming hundreds. The United States too has been targeted in one of the greatest outrages of all.

What all these groups have in common is the unassailable conviction that they are right and the rest of the world is wrong. Many of these freedom fighters are manipulated by political leaders who seek power,control,what you will.

I make no attempt here to make any judgement as to who ,if any,has right on their side, I have only one comment to make in today's madness and it is this.

There can be no cause, no faith, no political partisanship which can justify the wholesale slaughter of innocent children, and I hope with all my heart that this tragic event will cause the scales to fall from the eyes of the Pakistani people so that an end can be made of this nightmare .

To all nations I say, the killing of children is an attack upon all humanity and those who carry out such acts must be made to understand that their extreme actions will do nothing to further their cause, not only in Pakistan but all over the world.

Any faith which teaches it's practitioners that they can find their way to their own particular heaven, Promised Land or paradise, by such means is not the product of any God,or Prophet. It is proof that God only exists in the hearts of men, and weather the God is good or evil depends upon the man.

It is time we took responsibility for our actions instead of attributing our baser actions to the greater glory of some none existent and despotic deity.

CHRISTMAS CAROLS

Thankfully my bad mood of yesterday has evaporated and I am myself again, Pa has taken to the chrome book which gave me so much trouble and so I have given it to him,a happy ending since he has needed a new computer for ever so long.

With the holidays approaching fast I got up early this morning and after making a stack of bacon rolls for the boys I divided my time between packing home made shortbread in to boxes and writing Christmas cards, the later a pleasant occupation as I sat at my small desk in the library with a blazing log fire and the cat for company.

As I sat stroking the cat a little later I thought how wonderful a change has taken place in my life since last Christmas which was marred by my own ill health and Pa's sojourn in hospital. What a transformation. Although we are both still disabled we have seldom been so happy ,and the fact that this happiness has been brought about by my dear son's kindness makes it even more special.

It is a wonderful thing he has done, and each day now brings new happiness for us all as we grow accustomed to our new home and our new life.

I am by no means a religious person in the accepted sense of the word, in fact you could say that I am a pagan,and yet at this time of the year I always feel the need to sit in a candlelit old church and sing carols;I expect that this comes of singing in a church choir for most of my childhood.

We ate dinner early and the three of us made our way along the dark lane to the lovely old church. For a thousand years the people of this village have gathered there at Christmas to give thanks and count their blessings, so it seemed right that we, who have been so fortunate and have so much should take our place in it's history and give our thanks that we have been so blessed.

How beautiful the shadowy church looked, the flower ladies had made the alter bright with holly and evergreens and candles cast long shadows on to the old walls. I could almost hear those voices from the past joining us as we sang the old carols.

Afterwards we ate mince pies and drank mulled wine with our neighbours before returning to our

snug home . We had left the porch light on and it welcomed us home as we walked up the drive and the garland on the door looked so pretty in the twinkling light.

We ate our supper in the kitchen, cheese and crackers with chutney and pickle, we were tired after our long day but so happy, Now it is getting late and all is quiet out side,for one there is no wind and the rain has ceased. My little grey cat Twiggy wants me to make her a paper ball to play with and what Her Majesty wants, she gets, so I must go.

Goodnight world.

TEETHING TROUBLES

My new computer has arrived and I am finding its doings completely incomprehensible. My son set it up. but only up to a point! Quite apart from not being able to get in to my e mail,log on to Amazon,Ebay and several other vital sites, the new machine is so tiny that I can barely see what is on the screen ,even after much fiddling about.

 My son tells me that it is the greatest thing since sliced bread and yet it has no caps lock, which means that I have to hold down the shift key to write headings, a retrograde step as far as I am concered. While I admit that it is a cute little thing. the emphasis being on the word little, it does not play DVDs, I cannot download, and instead of having lots of memory I now have a cloud?

 I am realistic enough to know that there is every likelihood that I shall become accustomed to it.s strange ways but I have to admit that the Android mobile phone he talked my into purchasing a couple of years ago is still a mystery to me, apparently I do not touch the screen in the right way.

 Thank the Gods that my contract has now expired and I can acquire a nor simple communication device,one better suited to a little old lady, such as myself! That blasted Android phone has about a million apps, none of which are any use to me. Sat Nav... never go anywhere. It can sound like a guitar or a piano and hold endless bits of music. Great, but just try answering a call, one false tap and a load of information appears from nowhere and by the time you have sorted that out the phone has stopped ringing and you have to return the call.

 Not one of my friends has has to pay to converse with me since I acquired the pestiferous thing!! I have just discovered that I cannot upload photos on to this machine, which seems to me to be very little more advanced that the word processor I used about thirty years ago! Of course the fault lies with me, I am far too ancient,short sighted and computer illiterate to learn a load of new tricks.

In my favour however is the fact that I am as stubborn as a mule and I detest being beaten by anything, least of all a new bit of tec! I mean to soldier on….. even if it does take me a couple of hours to write a short blog……...and if I hit that blasted magnify key which is situated where the caps lock used to be the whole “ kit and billin” is going out of the window….and me after it!!!!!!

SIZE MATTERS

For most of my adult life my feet were a size seven,yes I know that's quite big for a woman, we can't all have twinkle toes! Around ten years ago give or take a years my feet suddenly became a size eight. Now this was very odd as the size sevens shoes I had been wearing for some time were still a perfect fit,my feet had not grown...the shoes had shrunk.

When I made enquiry s as to why my already large feet had suddenly become (for the purposes of buying shoes even larger) I was and I quote told “Erm...I think it's something to do which the E.U.”

So it seemed that some idiot in Brussels with nothing better to do had decided to tinker about with our shoe sizes. OK. I asked the bored young shop assistant for a pair of the blue boots I liked in a size eight. “Oh,” she said, “We don't carry then as stock, there's no call for these big sizes.”

History had better not record my answer to this piece of incomprehensible logic!!

When I remarked that I was calling for them she just shook her head

After this encounter it was, for a while difficult to find fashionable shoes in my (new) size .but by and by things returned to normal and I was able to buy ladies shoes again.

In the intervening years there has been much fiddling about with clothes sizes so that now anyone who is a UK size twelve is a plus size, and anyone who is size fourteen is obliged to look among the triple X,s, it's ridiculous.

For the past couple of years I have been suffering from oedema (swollen feet) and shoes have posed such a problem that I have worn Croc's throughout the summer and Ugly boots in the winter, and very sartorially challenging I found it. Now, hoorah,my feet are there normal size again and I can again wear my old size eights.

Having decided to treat myself to a new pair of smart leather boots for the winter I searched long and hard to no avail, for in the past year or so shoe sizes seem to have changed yet again and I require a size nine in a fashion shoe.

Naturally I am not at all pleased by this turn of events as it is now only possible to acquire a pair of fashionable boots in my size at an on line shop for Cross Dressers!!!!!!

A few days ago I ordered a leather jacket for my son as a Christmas gift, the last jacket I purchased for him a couple of years ago was a 2XL ,and he has recently lost quite a lot of weight. Even so, allowing for the vagaries of garment sizing these days I ordered a 4XL, (no size chart was available ) and he could always wear a sweater underneath if it was a little large.

This morning the jacket arrived and my son tried it on,or should I say that he attempted to try it on for it was much to small. He checked the label to see if they had sent the wrong size but no, it was indeed the 4XL which I had ordered. I sent an e mail to the supplier explaining the problem and asking for a refund and he replied that he would be willing to sent the next size up if I would return the garment, the postage for this return was £15.00.

I told him that unless he had, perhaps a size 10XL we should all be wasting our time and he was forced to agree.

So how does in come about that I can buy a dress in one shop and get a great fit from a size 18 and in the shop next door find that a size 22 is way too small. Buying on line is even more hazardous,especially from Ebay as some of the sizes from Malaysia or Hong Kong are even more ridiculous. Of course it is understandable that different countries have different sizing methods but in the UK every blessed shop has it's own peculiar way of sizing their garments.

Until this anomaly is sorted out I have resolved to wear nothing but fleece Kaftan s in the winter. Cotton ones in the summer and on my feet either flip flops or Uglies all this aggregation is turning me into a grouch!

TRIAL AND ERROR

Yesterday’s weather forecast predicted a lessening of the strength of the wind and in our region…..they lied! Throughout the night the storm raged about us, the wind came in great gusts and rain fell in torrents. At odd times during the course of the night, awakened by the deafening racket we met each other on the landing and discussed the possibility of a:losing the roof :b our old fruit trees withstanding yet another buffeting and c:would we ever get to sleep .

 This restlessness had consequences,it was almost eleven before we were all up and about so that we spent the rest of the day playing catch up and I have to report that we failed in the attempt! Realising that it was useless to attempt any major tasks I set about ordering the fuel supplies which will last through to the New Year. In this rural spot there is no piped gas and so we have a large cylinder which fuels the gas rings on the kitchen range.

We have a large oil tank which supplies the central heating system and provides hot water. As a back up there is an immersion heater for hot water if we run out of oil and ,of course there are the wood stoves should all else fail! Logs, already ordered are arriving on Monday, oil will be delivered on Tuesday and coal on Wednesday. Once that lot has arrived the blasted weather can do as it pleases, we shall survive and be warm.

 A couple of years ago during a snowstorm the electricity was cut off by falling trees and it remained off for a couple of weeks. This upset the residents and they kicked up a rumpus, soon afterwards the cables were installed underground so we are no longer at the mercy of the elements as far as lighting is concerned. My other task has been trialing my son’s computer to see if I like it,my own lap top is even creakier than I am and I am in the market for a new piece of kit. I am typing this blog on my son’s new Chromebook……...at present the jury is still out.

 Darkness has now fallen and the wind has risen to screaming pitch,the sound of the rain on the conservatory roof and on the kitchen light well is terrifying .I am consoled by the fact that this house has withstood almost four hundred years of storms gales and even the odd hurricane. It is my intention now to pour myself a large glass of Scotch, put on some seasonal music and ignore the weather for an hour or two. Then with the aid of some newly acquired ear plugs I shall, with luck, sleep through the mayhem….if my cat will let me!

BUMPS IN THE NIGHT,SKITTISH CATS AND A BIRTHDAY FEAST FOR PA

We have had some wild weather in the past couple of months, one gale after another. I grew up in hill country very similar to this so I am used to strong winds, even so I must say that last night was one of the noisiest I've encountered.

When I opened the curtains yesterday morning the sky was a livid shade of red,not just streaks, the whole sky seemed to be on fire so that I knew at once we were in for a stormy day. The redness faded quickly and then the wind picked up,buffeting the house and rattling the doors.

By lunch time it things the gusts were so strong that on looking out across the fields I saw a crow flying backwards, caught by a terrific cross wind as it attempted to land.

I settled down in the kitchen to make Lebcuchen,a spicy chocolaty cookie topped with large sugar crystals, my first batch of gift cookies.

Through the kitchen window I had a grandstand view of the effects of the still strengthening wind, first the bird table toppled over scattering peanuts across the patio, next a large white plastic bag blew across the garden and caught in the pear tree. From time to time bangs and thumps on the west wall of the house testified that the usual exchange of dustbin lids was taking place and by the time the children were heading home from school the wind was strong enough to be dangerous as chunks of tree fell in to the lane .

We ate dinner to the accompaniment of more loud bumps and bangs and by the time we were turning in the win was howling like a banshee and the stove pipe rattled alarming with each great gust!

There is something about windy weather which makes cakes silly, our ran around the house all day long, chasing their own tails, each other, and anything else which moved and generally causing a serious hazard to anyone who got in there way.

By morning the wind has dropped. Just a little and the clear up was beginning around the village and the three us us feeling a little rusty met for breakfast a little later than usual.

Today is Pa's sixty fifth birthday and it is a tradition in our family that the birthday boy can order anything he likes for breakfast and dinner. Pa ordered a cheese omelette and my son decided to have the same, I rustled up a couple of large three eggers and I had a boiled egg (I am still on Dr Dooms death or glory diet!).

We gave Pa his gifts and cards, mostly stuff for his model railway and the usual bottle of Port which he loves and then he went of to his study to play. Three days of complete rest have improved his arthritis sufficiently for him to be able to enjoy his special day. My son began tidying up the garden and I set about the preparations for Pa's birthday feast.

He had chose a fore rib roast and Black Mountain Beef to be served with Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes and mushy peas, a very traditional north of England meal. This was followed by an enormous Pavlova well stuffed with whipped cream and topped with grapes,strawberries and blueberries, and as I decorated this delectable concoction I resolve that for once I would ignore the damned diet and have a large slice at dinner!

We ate in the cosy kitchen and we toasted dear Pa's birthday with a bottle of red wine. He suffers so much pain and is so very brave about it all,we love him very very much.

The weather forecast for tonight is not promising although at the moment it is quieter than yesterday so I hope to get a better nights sleep, we shall see!

ACHES AND PAINS!

Pa is still poorly and has spent another day tucked up in bed with the cat Twiggy,who is ,of course delighted with this turn of events. For the second day running she has not left his side and this arrangement seems to suit them both.

My lovely cleaning lady arrived early this morning and as I suspected had not had time for breakfast, knowing that she was going straight to work at the corner shop after cleaning for me I insisted that she sat down had ate some breakfast. Pancakes were on the menu and I happen to know that she is very fond if this dish.

She works harder than almost anyone I know and never thinks of herself, bless her heart. She wanted me to stop half and hours pay from her wages for the breakfast break and I had a hard time convincing her that there was no way that was going to happen so at last she gave in but with her eyes full of tears. I think perhaps her other clients are not always kind to her, more fool they, for she is a dear soul and I am proud to call her my friend.

Today I paid a heavy toll for yesterdays reorganisation of the kitchen, my arms and my back ached dreadfully all day and my knee and wrists were almost unbearably painful. However I do not regret my busy day and tomorrow, if all goes well, I shall make my first batches of Christmas biscuits, Lebcuchen I think.

These biscuits from Eastern Europe are so pretty ,covered in dark and white chocolate and decorated with large sugar crystals, nicely packaged they make a lovely Christmas gift for friends.

For today I am resting as much as possible, just a little cooking and looking after Pa, even my son is taking a day off from his writing as he too is very tired today. I am certain the the low light level affects him and although we have daylight bulbs in his study where he works there is no substitute for real sunshine.

Today has been gloomy, wet and bitterly so cold that I live in hope that we shall soon have some snow. I have never outgrown my love of the fabulous stuff, even thought it makes life tricky for disabled people I cannot find it in my heart to dislike the glory of a really snowy day!

My mother says that I have never really grown up, perhaps she is right for I look forward to sledging again next winter if my operation is a success.

Here is another of my mothers old sayings. “A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?”