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...
Well, the two ex-pats of Lansdowne Drive celebrated Australia Day in fine style... the flag, which I had spent such pains to find for last year, was brought out with all due ceremony, and hung from the study window (the thumb I crushed between the sashes seemed a small price to pay for such a great looking declaration of 'Aussies live here!'), and, also continuing a tradition begun in 2005, Bron and I made ANZAC Biscuits. Last year they were all for us, but this year Bron decided to win over the grad students of the London School of Economics, where she was due to give a two hour lecture, with more than just witty banter...
