Whatever Twelfth Night means to you - and it means something special to me - I think Christmas really ends on Dec 31st. So that's it, then. Over for another year. And this one hasn't been all that bad- mainly because the village is an ideal setting for an ancient festival - and gets more so by the day. Only recently the local bus company contributed to our lurch into the 18th century by cancelling their service. So it's official. I now live in village with no way in and NO WAY OUT.
In past years our mince-pie, mulled wine and singing on the green around a tastefully decorated Christmas tree was ogled by top-deck passengers - who probably believed they'd strayed back in time - or had had too many extra-strong eggnogs. No more. Now the only mechanical sound is the approach of Father Christmas on his decorated lawn-mower. And while we're on the subject of singing, what is the problem SOME people seem to have with carols? Every year a few of us (never more than a dozen, nothing like a mob) go around the houses and sing- for charity. We practise and we're not bad enough to set the dogs off. AND ITS FOR CHARITY. We're not talking anything controversial, either: just nursing care for cancer patients and a children's hospice. Most of our neighbours (even the music-lovers) welcome us to their doors and often inside to thaw around their also-tastefully-decorated fireplaces. They feed us and give us drink - and money. They wish us Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. It's straight out of Thomas Hardy, for God's sake. But at just a couple of houses, there's bad stuff happening- curtains are quickly closed and tv's turned up. In this way they manage to save a pound and only get one verse of Silent Night (OK, so it's not our best piece).
Here's something for them anyway.
A friend in our nearest town got a knock on the door, Dec 1st. A pair of bulging fifteen year old girls stood there and sang 'Away in a manger' three times. Not the whole thing, just 'away in a manger' three times over. It was all they knew. When my friend suggested they should learn a carol before they set out carol-singing, they suggested she give them money or they'd trash her car. Festive, huh? So for Christmas next year I wondered about arranging an alternative and exclusive to those people who can't be doing with 'The Holly and the Ivy' in return for a handful of change. What about a visit from the Cellulite Sisters?
