Christmas Celebrations

Christmas Celebrations

So where has the past month gone?! The days, weeks and the month since I posted a piece on my blog back in November - about our visit to Chartwell, followed by a short item on 4 December, about migrating violas, blossoming in a flower basket hanger in which they had not been planted - have flown so fast, but it has been a very happy time, culminating in a joyful festive season.

It's also been lovely to record our interesting visit to the Draper's Hall in November, and then of course I had a further delay caused by problems with uploading photographs - I just hope that doesn't happen again!

So here I am, back on track at last. Thinking again of our Christmas celebrations, I felt really pleased this year, in that I had been so well organised, and so early! I had bought a fresh tablecloth, and had it all laid on in good time, with crackers and Christmas serviettes; a lighted candle completed the festive show.

Al was working - he always volunteers to work over Christmas and New Year, so that colleagues with children have the chance to spend some time with their families; I'm sure that when he has children of his own, people will do the same for him - at least, I do hope so! - and he was able to phone us during a break from work, so at least we had that precious contact with him.

We are quite traditional - Wendy bought a fresh turkey for us, which I roasted with all the trimmings - I am assured my roast potatoes are truly first class, soft yet crispy…(I shall have to go off now, and cook some more!)... Yorkshire puddings, and a variety of veg. Wendy is very partial to Brussels sprouts, but not the usual frozen ones, or even the fresh sprouts that come loose in a bag; she buys Brussels sprout "trees," and I just cut off however many are needed, before boiling them up in lightly salted water. They certainly taste totally different to the others! We had carrots and peas, sage  and onion stuffing, and gravy; it all came together in good time, and we really tucked in. This was followed by a slice of Tunis cake, and Wendy had also brought along a delicious chocolate log; we were well supplied with treats!

We also made a few phone calls on Christmas Day, to dear friends who live abroad - in Europe, and even further afield - making sure we were ringing at an appropriate time, remembering which countries are in time zones quite far ahead of us! Happily, I don't think anyone was woken up at 2.00 in the morning, "their time," and it was so good to be able to "touch base" with them, to hear their voices, and wish them a Happy Christmas.

We never forget the true meaning of Christmas, and how delighted we were when we opened all the presents we had been given, some of which were beautifully handmade. We were delighted with everything we received; what a treat it is, and what a blessing, to know we have such wonderfully kind, loving and thoughtful people around us; and that got me thinking, about ephemera.

People make such an effort to please us, and wrap everything up so carefully, with thoughtfully written messages attached, and it never seems right to me, just to tear off the wrappings and throw everything in the rubbish bin. I know many people enjoy making scrap books as a hobby, and I have done this for years, preserving these happy thoughts and messages for other folk to read at some point in the future.

With this idea in mind, I was inspired to write a Christmas poem this year; it's called:

EPHEMERA

I love ephemera. I collect

Things other folk throw away. I select

Sparkling paper from presents, tinsel-wrapped,

And gifts tags, with loving messages: if these are scrapped

Then the moment’s forgotten and joy’s just a shade

As life swiftly flies, and our memories fade.

 

Without ephemera, where will historians find

Primary source material, from an old humankind?

Will they investigate in electronic cyberspace?

They’ll find it harder, to find clues left behind.

In my scrapbooks, letters still quietly exist

With postage stamps, cancelled, securely affixed

On hand-written envelopes, precisely inscribed,

With tender love notes, nestling inside.

 

Under layers of dust, in some basement or attic

Treasures remain, as a spider runs frantic

For cover. Turn over the pages; re-live times long gone

Of friends and of lovers; prove what they have done.

Historians will read, and sense their quintessence;

Feeling their presence, from the ephemera of presents.

Alexandra Wilde

December 2021

 Christmas Day 2021