Message from Albert

The presents have been wrapped (sort of), mince pies have been eaten (to excess) and every Frosty the Snowman viewed with contempt. Now all there is to do is relax, enjoy time with good friends and family and focus on why Christmas exists.

Happy, hope-filled Christmas friends!


"For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace
there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this."

This is the birth announcement, as told by the prophet Isaiah, about 6-700 years in advance, of the King of Kings; the Christ of Christ-mas. This is where God and history meets.
Celebratory.

Hmm, should I admit to this?

I'm pathetic. I have the tiniest cold but combined with my less than spectacular record for a headache-free life, I have been completely floored by it. At least I can practice having a good moan because I have spent the last two nights alone with only crappy television as consolation; Cameron AND the spaniel have gone Christmas Caroling (is that a word??) around the village streets with a group of friends from church. I wanted to go with them, not flunked out on the sofa with only echinacea and cups of tea for comfort. I am positively wallowing in my own self-pity.

One thing has cheered me greatly—I want to become a MORRIS DANCER! I always have and now the possibility awakens! Three things makes this a viable proposition for me:
(a) there exists a local group (what is the collective name for Morris Dancers?) It's named "Basingclog" and meets in Monk Sherborne, only the very next village away...
(b) the uniforms are cool in that entirely uncool fashion (although I'll have to readdress my 'never wearing a skirt again' philosophy if I go throught with it)
(c) it's a entirely useless hobby and therefore fits in nicely with my collection so far—speaking Gaidhlig, 17th century print production and playing the tuba...


They also wear red socks and the coolest shoes...

Homophone alert

Note to self: Whenever we talk about Australia's "surf culture", ensure that it's not misinterpreted as "s-e-r-f culture"...

(Look John, I didn't even have to reference you as the one that created for us a full night's worth of belly laughter and dreams of Aussie peasants hanging ten!)

On the first day of Christmas...

I've been amazingly slack in updating this blog, but I'm going to put it down to the general run-up-to-Christmas chaos. So, it's no longer officially the "first" day of Christmas and the partridge and pear tree has been a No Show, but we have been experiencing our own Advent Calendar with a new activity almost every day.

Highlights?
1. The evening service at Pamber Priory (warm mince pies and mulled wine nestling nicely with our new warm coats, 12th century oak effigy and candle-lit Norman architecture),
2. The Christingle service for the kiddies at St. Andrew's (rumours of oranges, candles and skewered jelly babies left us a little confused in anticipation of what exactly this could have to do with Christ and Christmas, but we're satisfied now! Check out www.christingle.org if you are just as curious about this widespread European activity as we were...
3. The Nativity play performed by the infants students of Sherborne St. John school. Special applause for the little chap on the left!



I've also come to the conclusion that C & I don't really have a Christmas 'tradition' that we look forward to each year. This may be because we haven't had a predictable Christmas Day since we have been married. The only thing we have done consistently is NOT had a Christmas tree and, instead—whether because of lack of planning or an overabundance of enthusiasm for something a little different—we have had the Christmas "Twig".
This year, despite being in an environment where a spruce, fir or pine would not look out of place in one's living room, we continue to decorate a twig. Welcome to our world!

Even Sasunnach looks underwhelmed at the whole twig-dressing debarcle...