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.