Brightening bleak mid-Winter

 

In truth, it's not quite mid-Winter, but with only three weeks to go until the shortest day here in the Northern hemisphere, it has begun to feel a bit bleak. Not only has Covid done a dirty on family gatherings, but the weather itself has descended into that grey nothingness that so often characterises December (and is only alleviated by fires, mulled wine and the occasional magnificently fierce frosty day)

There are, of course, ups to the season of dormancy. Bare root trees and shrubs can be bought for a fraction of the price of their potted warm weather cousins. I have acquired two cherry trees and two June berries (amelanchier lamarckii). I read about the latter in an article and am really excited to see what happens in the Spring. While my specimens are quite small and twiggy, I am promised a show of white flowers and berries which are like blue berries. It makes the wait for Spring all the more exciting - watch this space!

Bare-root acquisitions are one way to make this time of the year interesting, but there are other ways too, which, while they require some shopping, do more than supermarket offerings to warm the cockles of our hearts. As many of you will know, I am no fan of the festive season. I dislike the rampant consumerism that characterises a UK Christmas and have forged a reputation as a Grinch. But I also have children and, as my Christmas-loving husband keeps reminding me, I shouldn't `spoil it for them' - or him, I suspect. And, while my Grinch-ish nature is inclined to call it ` a dose of reality', the mum in me acknowledges his point. And so, following on the traditions of Grandma Whyman who used to make our Christmas cake and my friend Margaret, who makes preserves as gifts, over the last several years we have begun our own `making' traditions.  

The first of these is making gingerbread biscuits. We began this `tradition' while living in Mozambique. Unable to find chocolate baubles to hang on the tree (too hot), we decided to make gingerbread decorations to hang instead. It was such fun, that the tradition has stuck. So now we get together to bake and decorate gingerbread on one of the first weekends of December. We make a huge batch and take some round to the neighbours. My middle daughter is now living in Wales, but she assures me that she will also be making gingerbread this year. (I have to be honest, there is a fair amount of gingerbread eating that goes on - not a lot lands up on the tree any more).

The second `tradition' is a new one. Last year, we were lucky enough to be invited along to a wreath making session with a bunch of friends. My youngest daughter and I each made a wreath, and enjoyed it so much, that we decided to do it again this year. 

Our 2019 wreaths were moss based and this year we wanted to make wreaths for friends and family, but the Grinch in me baulked at the idea of all those wire frames which would, inevitably, end up chucked out. (Besides, they would be heavy to post). Inspiration struck while cutting back the Virginia Creeper: it occurred to me that the vines were pliable enough to weave. So I did - making the bases for several wreaths quite easily. This last week, my daughters (eldest and youngest) and I transformed them from woody rounds to festive decorations. I am lucky to have a huge rosemary bush and so we used rosemary sprigs as the basic greenery, attached with easily available floristry wire. My eldest daughter visited Wilko (eek! - but she enjoys the shops at this time of the year) and came back with a trove of wreath decorations, from the natural (pinecones with twine attachments) to the tacky (plastic berries and frosted apples).  

(As an aside: as all the tat - and the pinecones - are reusable, I have to admit that I don't mind it too much.)

There is actually a lot of natural decoration out there. I scoured my rose bushes for rosehips (make sure they haven't gone mushy) and raided the edges of the playing field for berries. Left-over ribbon also comes in handy. And - tarra! We made wreaths which we packaged in recycled cardboard boxes and sent off to Wales, Kent , Hertfordshire and a different spot of Essex!

For our own wreaths, we re-used the moss wreaths from last year. just soaking the moss in water to rejuvenate it. Berried ivy is plentiful along most country lanes, but we actually have our own in the garden, and this formed the basic `greenery' of the wreaths. We recycled many of the decorations from last year and I risked life and limb to gather as many rosehips as possible to add the required red ( I really did - still picking thorns out!) We (my youngest daughter and I ) are really quite pleased with the results and the grey of almost-December seems a little less bleak.

Next stop: hauling out the tree and making gingerbread. But that can all wait a week or two. This grinch needs festive cheer in small doses...

PS: if you want a more comprehensive guide, and loads of ideas, to making your own wreath, have a look at this page:

How to make a Christmas wreath - Gardens Illustrated

Beware - the Grinch cometh!

 

So here we are: mid-November and Kevin the Carrot* has made his grand entrance (with, I have to admit, a very cute hedgehog). The latest lockdown has meant that the Christmas hype has started VERY early. Which has got me started - very early.

If you love Christmas, look away now. No, seriously, you have been warned.

I loathe Christmas and all the Christmas hype on telly is starting to push me over the edge (really, M&S? Gin with gold bits? What if they get stuck in your throat? And what nutritional value could they possibly have? I'm pretty sure you can't taste them!)

Urgh. Christmas.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against the religious ceremony. In fact, I love midnight mass, having had the privilege of first attending in Nazareth as a Rotary exchange student many years ago. My church attendance has flagged over the years, but the spiritual part of Christmas (or mid-Winter) is not on my loathing list. Nor is the `goodwill to mankind', which really should be part of our everyday living. 

What is on my Loathe List is the excess that surrounds this holiday. I have lived in four countries and can honestly say that the UK tops the other three, by a mile, in wanton, excessive capitalism when it comes to Christmas. We all know the story - hours spent trying to find parking at the local supermarket as people shop and shop and shop and shop and shop ad nauseum. This despite the shops only closing for a day (so that we can get out and shop and shop and shop and shop for New Year). On every other day, we are happy to have a meat/meat substitute, a starch and a veg. At Christmas we feel obliged to have two or three of everything. And dessert. And snacks and sides.  And so much gets thrown away. I get it, I do: its that  mid-Winter thing of celebrating that we've made it through the dark days of December (although I have to point out that there are at least two more months of dark days to come...) but really, so much? 

Aside from the food waste, there is also the tat-fest that is Christmas. We are obliged to buy each other all sorts of rubbish that most people don't really want. Every year, thousands of people spend money they don't have on `making Christmas special' and then spend the whole of the next year struggling to pay off their debts. Why? Last year, money guru, Martin Lewis urged people not to buy unnecessary gifts and definitely not to buy gifts that they can't afford. This year, more than ever, with all the uncertainty that surrounds our economy, surely it makes even more sense.

Don't get me wrong - I like presents, but I like them to mean something. When my husband's Grandma was alive, she would make us a Christmas cake each year. I loved that. The idea that she had thought of us. Made something just for us. For me, it exemplified the bonds that should be celebrated at Christmas.

My pragmatic friend, Margaret always gives us marmalade, jams and chutneys at Christmas. I love what has become a tradition. Again, she has put a bit of herself into a gift, making it something no supermarket can sell. (To be fair, she is also the queen of the garden glove and bamboo sock - but they are equally well-considered, useful gifts).

Last year, when my daughters began to ask what I wanted for Christmas (poor things, they should know better by now) I told them that I only wanted something that they had made. And they were brilliant! Daughter One made fudge and infused olive oil with garlic. Daughter Two made soap (not for the faint-hearted) and hand-painted a mug. Daughter Three (not even 11 at the time) turned the caps of my favourite bottled ale into earrings. It was wonderful!

This year, I think I will repeat myself and see what happens. I think of it as a challenge.

As for me: well, I have sloe gin and crab apple gin brewing. I have made pickle and jam and I am a bit artsy on the side... None of which my daughters want for their actual gifts. So I will compromise and get them something they otherwise would not have. I will try to make it practical and it will be wrapped in recyclable brown paper with reusable ribbon.  

While Joan Collins has this week put up her Christmas Tree, mine will go up in early December (and come down on Boxing Day) And here we will go again: the husband (a big fan of Christmas) and I will have the usual meltdown over excess versus generosity. This will result in him doing all the Christmas shopping and cooking (poor thing, you'd think he'd have learned by now) and  I will `happy face' it all through December 25th (even though everyone knows I am lying). 

I suppose you could call it a Christmas tradition...

* Kevin the Carrot is the hero of the Aldi Christmas adverts