Boxing Day on the beach

Christmas Day was an unusually quiet affair in our house with just my husband, his mother and me. Our real festive time begins later today when Mr, Mrs and Miss Brit arrive from Bristol and Millie and her Mummy and Daddy arrive from Oxford. At present they are all stuck in traffic on the motorway, leaving me with a few minutes to post some pictures.

Boxing Day was a perfect day for a stroll on the beach. My dear friend D came over from her icy valley to share some festive food, sunshine and conversation. We went to Crow Beach, one of the local beaches that I haven't written about before because we like to keep it secret but I'll share it with you as it is Christmas! D has posted some of the great pictures she took over here.

Crow Point and beach are on the estuary of the Taw and Torridge rivers, at the edge of Braunton marshes.

Across the water is Instow

D's handsome Edinburgh Boy was quite happy with the sand and sea until he spotted the wreck

Excellent sniffing ground!

 

And what could be better than finding a wreck to explore?

Finding another one. At first, D and I thought we might be able to head off to a life of adventure on the high seas in this one but a closer inspection of the interior suggested that would be unwise...

The family arrived before I finished writing this post so  I'm just going to click on Publish Post without editing or completing it.  Tomorrow we are all going further round the coast to Morwenstow. More pictures to follow.

Happy Christmas

The tree has been dressed, the presents wrapped, the food is prepared. There is nothing left to do now but go to church tonight and celebrate tomorrow. Wherever you are, I hope you will be warm and safe and enjoying good company. Happy Christmas everyone and I wish you all a prosperous and healthy New Year.

Angel Gabriel

We had our Advent service of readings and carols this evening and I am pleased to report that my voice held out for my part in it. I am often asked to read in church and at other public functions; I can't sing, dance, play an instrument or act but I do speak quite clearly, probably because of my years of teaching deaf children.

My acting career began and ended around my seventh birthday, when I was chosen to be the Angel Gabriel in the school Nativity play.

Children in the last class of the infant school performed the Nativity every year, with a younger brother or sister playing the baby Jesus. The costumes and staging were carefully packed away and brought out every December; here is my brother wearing the same Joseph costume five years later:

I don't know how they managed it but it seems to me that they used the same baby!

I came across this version of the Angel Gabriel carol on YouTube. It is Aled Jones singing in Welsh, something I'm sure few of us have ever heard. I think it is rather lovely.

Living history

A former colleague and her husband left their comfortable, secure world of work and mortgage a few years ago and set off on series of great adventures. They track down a derelict historic building anywhere in Britain, find out all they can about its history and how it was built, learn the skills needed to restore it and then sell it before moving on to the next. Most of their projects last for about two years and I look forward to the progress report that comes in a Christmas card each year.

They have learned many of their skills on courses run by the National Trust and this year's Christmas card shows them in period costume alongside other volunteers at Buckland Abbey, the 700 year old house bought by Sir Francis Drake in 1581.

I'm sure that Lindsay (in the centre, wearing what she calls her posh frock) has a great deal of fun as she learns about the repair and maintenance of historic buildings. I cannot imagine that she regrets leaving the office behind, even when she is at the beginning of a project and may be living with few creature comforts. I wonder where next year's Christmas card will come from?

A silent recital

I've lost my voice. I got very chilled on the journey home from Bristol last week when the train broke down, making me miss my connection and I had to wait in a biting wind for almost two hours for the next one. I've tried every recommended remedy but to no avail - I have a nasty cough and no voice!

The family might not miss the sound of my nagging advice and encouragement in the run-up to Christmas but I am due to read at the Advent service of readings and carols on Sunday afternoon and I think the congregation might notice that I am only mouthing the words. Perhaps I should project the piece onto a screen and ask everyone to join in? Or could I get away with presenting it in BSL?

Just in case I have to cry off and the poem doesn't get an airing this year, here it is:

Advent 1955 by John Betjeman

The Advent wind begins to stir
With sea-like sounds in our Scotch fir,
It's dark at breakfast, dark at tea,
And in between we only see
Clouds hurrying across the sky
And rain-wet roads the wind blows dry
And branches bending to the gale
Against great skies all silver pale
The world seems travelling into space,
And travelling at a faster pace
Than in the leisured summer weather
When we and it sit out together,
For now we feel the world spin round
On some momentous journey bound -
Journey to what? to whom? to where?
The Advent bells call out 'Prepare,
Your world is journeying to the birth
Of God made Man for us on earth.'

And how, in fact, do we prepare
The great day that waits us there -
For the twenty-fifth day of December,
The birth of Christ? For some it means
An interchange of hunting scenes
On coloured cards, And I remember
Last year I sent out twenty yards,
Laid end to end, of Christmas cards
To people that I scarcely know -
They'd sent a card to me, and so
I had to send one back. Oh dear!
Is this a form of Christmas cheer?
Or is it, which is less surprising,
My pride gone in for advertising?
The only cards that really count
Are that extremely small amount
From real friends who keep in touch
And are not rich but love us much
Some ways indeed are very odd
By which we hail the birth of God.

We raise the price of things in shops,
We give plain boxes fancy tops
And lines which traders cannot sell
Thus parcell'd go extremely well
We dole out bribes we call a present
To those to whom we must be pleasant
For business reasons. Our defence is
These bribes are charged against expenses
And bring relief in Income Tax
Enough of these unworthy cracks!
'The time draws near the birth of Christ'.
A present that cannot be priced
Given two thousand years ago
Yet if God had not given so
He still would be a distant stranger
And not the Baby in the manger.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

Millie (granddaughter #1) is now 21 months old and very articulate. She knows lots of songs and rhymes, her favourite of the moment being Twinkle, twinkle, little star. I imagined her singing to me as I sat out in the garden last night watching the glorious celestial firework display:

Twinkle, twinkle, little Geminid Meteor Shower doesn't have quite the same ring, does it? It was spectacular, though and I hope your skies were clear enough for you to see it.

Off again

I will be taking the train to Bristol Temple Meads tomorrow. It is a splendid station, designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel and opened in 1840. I am going to spend a few days with my son and his wife and I will even get to do a bit of babysitting. I'll report back on what mischief Charlotte and I got up to when I get back.

A message of hope

Regular visitors will know that my husband's family has strong ties with Zimbabwe and that we follow what is happening there with great concern. For the first time in recent years, today's edition of the Bulawayo Morning Mirror carries a glimmer of hope:

JOYOUS TIMES

Its officially the rainy season in Zimbabwe, and rain is one thing that is sure to put a smile on everyone's lips !!
Matabeles especially live for the rain, rain-spotting is an age old pastime born of seasons of dry despair.

This year we have been warned that El Nino is going to rear his ugly head again, but so far we have had several nice little thunderstorms to keep us smiling.

This afternoon we had a glorious, gadget-destroying, typically Zimbabwean electrical storm, it was so fierce we had to galvanize the "Bucket Brigade" in our ancient old mansion.

Thirty mm in just thirty minutes, it was just divine in spite of the waterfall in the indoor garden. The rain flowers on the cactus have been extra specially spectacular, the flamboyants outdid themselves in their glory.

Soon it will be cassia time and those yellow flower laden trees will thrill us all with their glorious perfume.

It is just so exciting to be in Bulawayo this Christmas. Last year and the year before, Christmas was a non-event ... no Christmas parties .... no decorations ... no dried fruit for the cake .... no mince pies to be seen anywhere.

This year suddenly there is a real, almost festive feel. there are even a few Christmas parties, low key, but there are a few just the same.

Loads of new restaurants and coffee shops have opened up in Bulawayo, check the adverts in the Wining and Dining section in the Mirror !!

And what's more exciting is there is FOOD on the shelves.

We forget so easily, we forget that last year you could not buy a chicken or a loaf of bread unless you went under cover of darkness to the back door ! The shelves were empty, totally empty and the feeling of despair was real and gnawing.

The Zimbabwe dollar was running at hundreds of trillions, and you could only draw from the bank daily, enough for a loaf of bread, so life took on a desperate agonising face for many people who did not have the wherewithal to "make a plan"

Fuel was available only from drums kept at the bottom of the garden or on the black market. Now you can drive into a service station and say "fill her up" just like the good old days ! You can even get your oil and water checked, a simple service that we have not had in Zimbabwe for at least five years.

Doctors say that strokes and heart attacks as a result of these peculiar stresses have taken a serious toll on the Zimbabwe population over the past few years.

Last year there were no medical supplies available at all, to get one's daily chronic medication was so difficult, it was a serious medical stress in itself.Now all of ones needs are available if pricey.

I cannot believe we have forgotten those horrors so easily, all brought about by the stupidity of a frantic government that had lost its head.

Wickipaedia has Zimbabwe listed as "nationalizing its food industry", well this ill devised plan nearly nearly brought a once fine country to its knees.

But now with a new man at the Financial helm, with US dollars and Rands as open currency, we are heading for sanity once more, thanks be to God !!

There is still a long way to go, but so many valuable people are returning home, so many of our kids are determined to make their country their future.

The really bad places in the roads are slowly being repaired, there is such a buzz in town, its raining, and if we can continue to hold out against tyrants and troublemakers, the best is yet to come, what more could a man want ?

Wouldn't it be wonderful if this season of hope and peace could become a reality for everyone?