Christmas at the Shepherd's House

Yeah, I know; it's been a while... been busy... but the natives are restless, so here's some bloggage to tide you over ;) More soon...

Christmas Eve saw us adding to the congestion on Britain's motorways and whizzing Cambridgewards in the dusky evening, car packed to the gills... not QUITE as impressive a sight as last year, as we were sans wheelbarrow, and we didn't get to stop at the King's College porter's lodge and ask for a budgie, but some things should only be done once...

Anyway, despite some hellish fog just as we reached the turnoff to the Wilbrahams (Great and Little) which forced us to slow to a crawl, we made it ok, and were soon crunching over the frosty gravel outside the Shepherd's House and being regaled with food and drink.

Before I go any further, let's take a smalle toure of the Shepherd's House, shall we? it's well worth it...

The Shepherd's House is actually The Shepherd's Houses, as it used to be two cottages which backed onto one another. The two have been knocked together for some time, however; things made extraneous (like the second staircase) were removed, and things which would be jolly handy (like a bathroom or two) were added... there is still some evidence of the original state of things, however, like the two enormous fireplaces back to back in the middle of the house (see if you can spot the one with the Baron's Nook, Andy ;)). Juliet's parents have been gradually restoring things to as close to the orginal state as possible, whilst keeping comfort and beauty a priority, and the result is a fabulous old place spread over three floors, with many bedrooms, loads of space, lots of comfortable nooks in which to curl up with a book, an amazing kitchen, and a gorgeous garden...

After feasting and laughing and talking for some hours, Juliet, Jenny and I decided to attend Midnight Mass at the church in Great Wilbraham, so we piled into the car and drove the couple of miles, parking in a little churchyard amongst trees, SO atmospheric in the freezing misty moonlight that it would bring you out in goosebumps, were you fortunate enough to see it. Everything seemed a little too quiet as we approached the heavy door, and we asked Jenny in whispers if she was SURE it started at midnight? as it was one minute to... Juliet had to wrestle with the massive doorknob and it made a clanging sound inside as someone came to our assistance, and we entered the church... to find the congregation, who had been there since the service began, at 11.30pm, staring at us... we scampered over to where there were some empty places and tried to stifle our giggles as we sat and listened. Unfortunately, even though the ancient church, with its massive pillars and lofty ceiling and medieval statues, was well able to inspire us with awe, the (woman) priest was having trouble with her microphone, so that things would proceed normally for a time, and then some interference would start in the speakers, and her voice would turn robotic and metallic for a phrase or two, and soon the stifled giggles started all over again...

Thankfully, none of the above detracted from the real reason for being there - to think a little about what Christmas is really about, and to SING! The three of us together made about as much (harmonic) noise as the rest of the place put together, and that's saying something, as it was rather full. But there was something very right and correct about standing in a medieval English village church at half past midnight on Christmas Day, singing 'Yea, Lord, we greet thee; born this happy morning' with our breath steaming in the coldness and the old organ carrying the tune...

The next morning started late, as there were no children to consider, and we gathered in the old kitchen as people woke. After a leisurely breakfast, the pink champagne was poured, and the gift-giving began...

And of course, after that, the only thing to do was sit down to a proper English Christmas dinner, with turkey and ham, baked vegetables, pigs-in-blankets, gravy and cranberry sauce in a plenty, wine, and of course a brandy-flaming pudding topped with a sprig of holly, and the choice (or not ;)) of custard, cream or brandy butter.

And after THAT, just as of course, the only thing to do was to find somewhere to sleep it all off...

"HE'S BEHIND YOU!!!!"

I went to the pantomime last Thursday (it's Christmas in England, after all)... and not just any panto; the one at the Old Vic, Aladdin, starring Sir Ian McKellen as the Widow Twankey. I'd missed out last year because I'd never got around to getting a ticket, and had been mad with myself ever since, so when I heard the great Sir Ian was reprising his role, I booked a ticket as soon as I could.

What can be said about such an experience? If you've been to a panto you know what it's like; if you never have, nothing can really describe it fully... and this one had it all; music and dancing and groanable jokes and audience participation and great sets and a wonderful villain and Sir Ian McKellen :D I haven't laughed as much in a long time; it was absolutely hilarious... such a totally English experience; very clever jokes mixed in with totally (and deliberately) awful ones, double entendres galore, lots of slapstick, loads of local references (really made me feel like a Londoner; I understood most of them!! ;)), a villain to boo and hiss at every opportunity, and of course the classic panto tradition of the Principal Boy played by a woman (Frances Barber as Dim Sum) and the Pantomime Dame played by a man (Sir Ian, as mentioned, who seemed to revel in his many costume changes and his many ridiculous lines... and dancing... the man has a fine set of legs...) ...see, even now I'm not coming close to describing it. You'll just have to imagine it...

I think I just HAVE to finish with the words of a London critic, who showed true panto spirit when he ended his review thus:

'Well, we'll be able to tell our grandchildren that we saw McKellen's Twankey, and it was huge.'

*grins and groans allowed* ;)

[These photos aren't mine, of course; no cameras allowed; but I was able to find some on the web. And you can click here for a tantalising little glimpse of the action in a videoclip from the Old Vic website.]

How to have Christmas

Ingredients:
One London terrace house, Victorian era (next to a park, if possible)
One tiled fireplace (must have proper mantlepiece)
One Christmas tree (Blue Spruce is recommended)
Sundry decorations (buy some from the V&A if you can; their selection is lovely)
A garland for the fireplace (may have to be ordered off the internet as they're VERY hard to find)
Ilex or holly or other seasonal flowers, as desired, from Columbia Road
Assorted friends to come around and drink red wine and eat roast pork and admire all of the above


Method:
Purchase Christmas tree, bring it home by any means necessary. Wrestle it into the living room, release it from its net and set it up in its stand. Fill stand with water. Decorate tree with lights and baubles and lovely gold lametta.
Liberate garland from the over-large box it arrived in and unbend all the tips. Hang from brass hooks in the underside of the mantlepiece. If you should discover that the mantlepiece is actually metal, and brass hooks cannot be screwed into it, wedge the hooks into crevices and hold them there by sheer willpower and reverse gravity. Decorate garland with decorations from the V&A.
Invite friends to celebrate St Nicholas' Day. Buy pork, apples, parsnips, potatoes and other vegetables. Buy pudding, brandy sauce and double cream from the Channel Islands. Buy wine.

Serves four.