What does Christmas mean to you?

 For many people, this will be the first Christmas when they have been able to do what they used to do after the restrictions of covid have been lifted and it looks like we in the UK will get a 'normal' festive period.

 

But what does it mean to you?

We have all had plenty of time to think about what it has been like NOT to have a Christmas and what we miss out on, but what is it really? What does it convey to you?

For me it is a time which usually starts around now and finishes Christmas Eve because I love the hustle and bustle of all the people around chasing the last present, hunting for the last piece of pink tinsel because it goes with the tree.

I love the run up, when some people are already starting to prepare and like that lady back in September thinking about the various things she will buy and what to put in them. It was clear from the way she was holding up the various Christmas bags that she had already decided what she was getting the child and was sizing up which one would be the best fit. I enjoy watching people like that and doff my cap to thinking ahead.

Then there are the shops and the preparations which they go through; the window display, the items placed strategically by the till ready to be snapped up at the last minute. I like watching the lights go onto the trees which miraculously appear in shopping areas and the lights coming on ever earlier as we approach the shortest day. The cinnamon coffee which is rolled out and the mince pies, ooh yes, the mince pies, warm with a dollop of fresh cream, nothing nicer in my book.

I love going to the Southbank and exploring the outdoor craft market and wandering around the stalls selling ostrich burgers, bratwurst sausages in buns, German beer and freshly mulled wine.

I might select some delicacy or other and standing in the cold, enjoy the excitement which pulsates around, then amble into the Southbank itself and enjoy some jazz or whatever is playing in the open auditorium, after which I would go upstairs to their latest art exhibition/installation.

Everyone is happy and it shows in the conversations around. Coffee and a sit down for a while in the warm before I walk across the bridge to Charing Cross and feast my eyes on the lights in Regent Street.

Time for something to eat so head into Itsu for something. If its really cold I'll have hot noodles with something, but if not too bad one of their cold platters of rice, seaweed salad, maybe salmon and a selection of Japanese vegetables, soy sauce and of course some wasabi.

For me that's Christmas.

By the time Christmas Eve arrives it all seems to be over and people vanish into their worlds and start their get-togethers, parties and social events.

Its about that time I go home and settle in front of the TV with something I picked up at Borough Market.

Trying to study

When the cat next door decides she wants fussing, there's little I can do except capitulate and obey. Who ever said cats don't rule the human they choose to spend time with are surely missing something.

She had already walked over the screen of my phone and created wrong responses so I'd given up using my app and resorted to books. Maybe pick up on the vocabulary I was attempting to understand. She continued to demand fuss and spent most of her time rubbing my face, hands and of course book.

I made a fatal mistake and put the book down on the desk and opening my vocabulary notes began........

Mm. Obviously not on her radar but she did leave the vocabulary list uncovered 😊

A good night's sleep

 I slept well last night. It was a deep, contented sleep because I had been outside the back door and had my secateurs in my hand.

With help from my bestie we had cleared and tidied the area around the house which had borne a reasonable harvest of vegetables and herbs for my kitchen. I did manage to get some of the produce into the freezer to enjoy through the cold and dark winter months and had just started thinking about the Autumn jobs list and what I needed to get done with the help of Jason, a very capable young gardener who was learning as well as doing the work with me.

 

It started well and small plants which became full sized monsters began their lives.

Slowly the French beans were planted, some in a small bed and others onto canes, in pots by the kitchen door.

A celery top found its way into the bed as did wild garlic and a late fruiting raspberry cane. I then got the chard, the radish and various other summer salad crops going, it was marvellous ......

Then I broke the ankle and it all stopped for those precious months when I should have planted out the seedlings for next year's table, but best will in the world that back door step is still about three inches too far. Soon, my bestie says, I'll have a platform and be able to step out with much more security.

And then?

Well, there's this and this and this and I want this sorted and then again this has to be done ...................................

Enlivened with the prospect of my garden being in reach puts me at ease and the catalogue of seeds and advice returns to my lap for regular reading. The order I had so carefully researched will now go ahead with the proviso I will be planting in March by which time I should be able to get to the greenhouse once more.

Ooh, excited and yes, I slept well. It was the best day since the accident and I look forward to the next one..........