Another Notch

Today

Hurrah! Today's my birthday! And not just any old birthday. It's my 60th. In fact, I'll have to see about changing my blogger profile.

It does feel as though I'm moving into a different age slot this time; very strange. As though I'm about to morph into a person who likes to shop at Edinburgh Woollen Mill, has short fluffy grey hair, breasts permanently at half mast and who's idea of partying is a small sherry (preferably Harvey's Bristol Cream). I expect to start calling people "dear" and to become suddenly unable to cope with my computer.

Actually, I'm really looking forward to my party tonight and very much like the fact that my birthday is always party time.

In My Day

I was due to be born on Boxing Day but very wisely hung on until NYE. My parents never made me have combined Christmas and Birthday presents so I never felt short-changed by the birthday's proximity to Christmas.

Mamma always made me a special birthday cake (chocolate, not to confuse it with the fruity Christmas cake) with candles. I remember one year Daddy did the chocolate icing and very proudly pointed out to me the unevennesses (perhaps that's where I get my cake icing skills from) in the surface as though they were geographical features.

I often had a party - sometimes fancy dress - and - best of all, I was always allowed up to see in the New Year.

We always sang "Auld Lang Syne" - often just me, my parents and my brothers. Beatrice was too young so I felt especially privileged.

One year I awoke on New Year's Day without any recollection of having seen in the New Year. (And even now, with copious Champagne intake - I can't say that it's happened since).

I asked Mamma about it. "Well," She said, "You were so fast asleep - I couldn't wake you up." I felt very hurt and didn't understand . In fact, I didn't really forgive her until I had my own children and found out how hard it can be sometimes to wake them .

Anyway, I really love my birthdate, with its sense of new beginnings. And I'm looking forward to being able to apply for my bus pass. Sherry, anyone?

Set the table

Today

Christmas went with a swing, as usual. During the preceding few days people would say "and are you all ready for Christmas?" And we'd say "getting there!". Friends described how they'd bought the turkey, made the stuffing. We popped in to drop off cards and found them all hard at work: putting up the tree and decorations, tidying the house for visitors, preparing food, stocking freezers.

On Christmas morning, once we'd opened stockings, we all got cracking. Paul vacuumed floors, laid the fire, sorted out crockery, cutlery, glasses. Lizzie made Dauphinoise & roast potatoes, and helped me in making a Tiramisu.

I made the main courses, kept the kitchen tidy. Becky did the vegetables and tidied up the candles on the tree. Niece Ruth did the rubbish bins and put out tea lights. The dishwasher kept pace with the tide of pots & pans.

When all was done, we went and had a wonderful feast.

"It's a just like "A Christmas Carol" at the Cratchitts." I said. "Everyone had their duties".

In My Day

When I was a child, Christmas morning in our household was basically devoted to domestic work. After breakfast (which was always a bit on the scrappy, get-it-yourself side) we all had our duties. The fires would be laid (Daddy and Christopher's job). The last bits of Lametta were hung on the tree. The table was laid with a white cloth hung with ribbons. The final vegetables were prepared, (How I hated the filthy job of doing the chestnuts - but loved to eat them later), the Turkey tested and prodded, the ham put on to boil.

We tried to keep on top of the dirty washing up in our minuscule kitchen. (However did we produce such a feast? We barely had two feet of work surface.) The gifts were all arranged in the other room. During the meal we would each in turn wash up the used plates etc from the course we'd just eaten and dry up the previous lot. That way the work was all pretty well done by the time dinner was over.

Then Daddy and someone would collect David from St Paul's and the feasting would start at about 3.00 pm. after we'd finished the food would be left for us to pick at at will over the next two days. And we'd all be ready for revelling, gift opening, singing and games until bedtime.

Somehow, the hard work in preparing the celebration gave point and extra relish to the actual feast.

And I'd like to keep it that way.

Oh Tannenbaum

Today

Have actually put up two Christmas trees. The first one at home is a real tree - one of those spruces that doesn't drop its needles and is quite dense. We've hung many baubles on it in many colours, some resembling sweeties in colour and shape. The clever German tree holder worked a treat (for the first time for many years we haven't had to support the tree by tying a string to the ceiling).

I've hung all the remaining metal lametta and attached bright red candles using clip on holders. And - so sorry, health & safety chaps - we actually light the candles.

The one at the flat is altogether different. As we're in a first floor flat and only occasionally visit we decided on a fake tree. Now, I've not much time for those that pretend to be spruce; instead ours is made of silvery metal branches with crystal droplets at the ends.

We've hung chaste baubles in silver, black and blue and draped white LED teeny - tiny fairy lights all over it. And Twinkle the fairy graces the top.

In My Day

Our big Victorian pile allowed us to have Christmas trees of 10 foot or more. Daddy used to turn up with the tree on some unspecified day before Christmas. I think he must have carried it home on the bus.

He would jam the tree between logs wedged into a galvanised bucket. I don't think he ever watered it. We always called the tree a "fir" and perhaps it was. The branches were always thin and well spaced out. Mamma liked this because it meant less risk from the candles.

She always bought Prices "Mini Spirettes" in multi colours. there was always some anxiety about making sure we'd get enough in time for Christmas. These were carefully placed but as the tree settled they always had to be adjusted so that they weren't hanging upside-down or too skewiff.

Then the baubles. These were saved from the previous year and more added each year. They became a time capsule of fashion in tree decoration (you can sometimes find similar baubles in fancy retro shops). They also became covered in wax as the years went by. Finally, the lametta. This was made of lead and hung like icicles from the branches. Each piece was draped string by string and it was never possible to have too much. Mamma had a huge bundle that had built up over the years.

When the candles were lit the hot air made the lametta spiral and twinkle like the very stars.

It's almost impossible to buy that lametta these days and I've almost run out - any suggestions?

Tight Lacing

Today

Had a very pleasant afternoon, lunching with friends. We noticed and congratulated each other on some improvement in our figures. We noticed how our midriff "bagels" had grown smaller.

Regrettably, however, we still all had them and I doubt whether all the exercise and diet will entirely get rid. It's down to clever clothing and holding ourselves in, I suspect.

Today's fashions rely on the what's underneath being in good nick, so to speak, or covering up what shouldn't be shown. And those pin-thin models don't really help us to judge. Trinny & Susannah help in showing the way, but flab is flab.

In My Day

'Twas not always ever thus. When I was a child women were still corsetted. My mother used the services of a company called Spirella. About twice a year the "Spirella Lady" would call. She would closet herself with Mamma and measure up for the new set of corsets. I think I was sometimes allowed to be present on these occasions.

"Spirella" was a patented systems of flat metal spiral whalebone. They were flexible but held you in in all the right places. The corsets were salmon pink in colour (I don't know whether they came in other shades but that's what Mamma had) and did up with about 50 hooks and eyes. They also had laces for fine tuning and suspenders to attach to your stockings. They were very practical and a far cry from French underwear.

They also took a deal of getting into and, once hooked into them, there you stayed till bedtime.

I remember reading in one of those funny "overheard" books of a woman calling from her bedroom window to her husband "Will you be needing the use of my body or can I put my corsets on?". With Spirella in mind I can fully understand it.

The corsets conferred splendid posture as it was impossible to bend much once you'd got them on. However my mother did move with the times and, by the late '60s was wearing elasticated "corselettes".

Magic knickers do work, however, thanks, M&S. And I'll keep up with the exercise.