A Christmas Story

A Christmas Story.

We lived in the parish of Busbridge which was once owned by the Squire of Busbridge Hall who thankfully fell upon hard times and had to sell off large areas of his estate. Our house and garden rested in part of what was
once a large orchard , hence all our old apple trees that we climbed and from which came all the huge Bramley apples that my mother served up to us , baked or stewed until the season was over. I still hate baked apples!
The parish of Busbridge was a very respectable area , full of snobs and people pretending to be wealthier than
they actually were. Our little school stood opposite the church . Every year, for Christmas, the children were forced to put on a nativity play which was much rehearsed , then performed , in the church , for adoring parents
and local residents.
In those days, one had to be seen to go to church and I can still picture the miserable little women in their black hats , tight faces and primly pursed lips, walking up to the church every sunday.
We, my brothers and I,were looked upon with barely concealed dislike, disgust and distrust by these pitiful crones because we were scruffy urchins dressed in cut down, altered clothes that had recently belonged to an uncle who was killed by the Germans in the war whilst fighting for the freedom of these paragons of virtue and the vicar, who despised me.
Anyway, this one year we assembled in the church to decide which child should have which part in the Christmas play. The vicar sent me out for laughing and told me not to come back. Rehearsals got under way and the days passed and it came to pass that they needed someone to operate a machine which turned on the sun which was a large light bulb in a biscuit tin. There was a sliding lever which when moved slowly up it's slot, made the bulb glow and become gradually brighter to represent the rising sun. I volunteered to operate this and without the vicars knowledge, was reluctantly given the job with many warnings to behave.
So the big day arrived, the church filled and Jesus prepared to be born. The three wise men were waking , ready to find the baby in the stable . When one of them uttered the words "Ah, the sun", I was supposed to begin sliding the lever to make the sun rise, slowly bathing the darkened stage in light.
Unfortunately I had gone to the other side of the church so that I could peer through a gap in the curtains to watch proceedings. "Ah, the sun" said the wise man . Nothing happened. "The sun" he said again in a louder voice, tinged, it must be said , with a hint of panic. A titter was heard from the audience. Probably my brother.
A voice hissed at me . "The sun , you idiot!" Realisation hit me and, my hobnailed boots clattering on the marble floor of the aisle, I flew across, threw the lever fully along it's slot and dawn exploded on the sacred scene.
There were splutterings of mirth from the less reverent watchers , the vicar was sobbing quietly behind the stable and I fled to the vestry , out of the side door and walked home.

The vicar was made an arch deacon and left for new pastures soon after this and his son , who played Joseph in the play became a vicar and I heard recently that he is in prison, a convicted paedophile!

A Christmas Carol

My Christmas Story above inspired my brother to send me this. I'm sure he won't mind me sharing it!

A Christmas Carol written by my brother

And it came to pass, that during the days of Advent, in the early hours of night, some carol singers went forth to spread the spirit of Christmas to the ordinary people of Duncombe Road. With cardboard in their shoes to keep out the chilling cold and icy damp, they pulled their lumber jackets about them and came upon the first house. There, under the cold night sky, they began Good King Wenceslas. Even though the four part harmony fell apart, their voices floated into the air and carried to the people within - who could affordeth coal and were warm and cosy by their firesides.

At the ending of the carol, their voices fell still and they looked upon eachother with creased brows. Perhaps the people within had not heard them. Perchance they should sing another offering? Michael, the eldest caroller, nodded his head wisely and spake unto the others. "We shall give 'em Hark the Herald Angels Sing," he proclaimed. "And if they don't come, we'll stamp all over their roses."

The others nodded wisely, in agreement and cleared their throats, ready for another go. Yet another carol rose up in the silence of the night but to no avail. Not even yet a twitch of the curtains.

They finished their offering, then looked upon one another again.

"We've made fourpence h'appenny," Michael announced. "I think we should calleth it a day."

So saying, they made their way to the gates, pausing on the way to stamp on several Peace floribundas and to trampleth upon marigolds and wall flowers.

"That will teacheth them!" David muttered.

"Yeah," Michael agreed. "Got any Brock's cannons? We could shove one in the letter box."

"This is Christmas, not Guy Fawkes," David sayeth unto him. "The season of good will. Letteth us go home."

"Very good," Michael replied, "Let's just knock on the door hard then run away."

Foxy.

I gave up keeping chickens a couple of years ago because of a rash of foxes. they were eventually dealt with but there are one or two around again. Saw one cross our field the other day, bold as brass. When we have a fall of snow next, I'm going out to follow it's footprints. I bet it investigates next doors chicks before moving on.

Jeffrey Farnol.

Have any of you ever read any of J. Farnol 's books? They are collectable now. We had two or three in our family bookcase. Black Bartlemy's Treasure, Martin Conisby's Vengeace, and The
Broad Highway. There are a lot more. Beltane The Smith, The Amateur Gentleman,
Peregrines Progress etc. , all highly recommended . I've read all of those about six times in my life
and will probably read them again! I've found a shop in Hay on Wye with a lot of them for sale
from two pounds up to ten pounds each.
Whilst on the subject of books, You must find, buy and read, Twenty Years Agrowing by
Maurice O'Sullivan. I bet if you do, you'll be taking the ferry to Ireland and visiting a certain west coast island!

Hat!

This is K's new hat . I really like it.

Homemade bread.

Just in case anyone has NOT got a bread machine , take my advice and go for it!
It is SO easy. The white loaf pictured was so light, I had to nail it down to take the photo!
Get a PANASONIC SD 254.

Nothing day.

I'm feeling depressed today, like a lead weight in my forhead and chest. No one to tell because you don't , do you? Want to go for a walk but can't quite do it. K is at work. Here's a thing, once I was feeling really down, on my own and I started to cry and my dog , sitting in front of me put his nose in the air and howled! I was so ashamed to have upset him that I hugged him and found I'd forgotten my own woes! There, that's told someone and I'll go for a little walk now.

Our river.

This was last year. Wonder if this winter will bring lots of rain. Terrific power in this water, you couldn't walk across the bridge with the river like this.

At this time of year, the grass is long and horrible, the trees are bare ,
river high, fast and threatening and the planks on the bridge wet and slippery.
How I look forward to spring, primroses , daffies and bluebells
with blossom on the blackthorn, damson and apple trees.

Saucepan handles!

What's the old fool going on about now? You might ask. Well I'll tell you. Have you noticed how most of your saucepan handles are loose and wobbly? Well, they are held on by a screw which works loose and could conceivably work so loose that the handle could come right off when you are carrying that lovely lamb stew across the kitchen! This is what you must do. Go to your ironmonger and purchase a tube of Loctite Fix and seal or some such name. Go home and find a screw driver to fit the head of the saucepan screw. Then , one by one, take the handles right off, clean the screw, apply a drop of thread sealant and screw it back on nice and firmly. Lots of swear words later , you will have a set of saucepans with lovely solid handles that are unlikely to ever work loose again. You will be surprised at how much your life will be improved , you will look forward to boiling that egg or those potatoes!