What a whirlwind December has been – our first Christmas at home since 2010 when we were celebrating the birth of our littlest and commiserating over our first (and hopefully only) burglary on Christmas Eve. This is also our first month, for some time, living together again as a family. Father of the Tribe works through a long list of things to do; from hanging huge Arabic lights to finding Christmas decorations in our chaotic store room. It’s good to share the frustrations of family life again!
Whilst outside, our Gerald Durrell opens one of the smaller sheds only to discover a dozen hibernating peacock butterflies in a dark corner. With their wings tightly closed, they are well camouflaged as the undersides of their wings are a dark grey, blending in with the gloom of the shed’s interior. We close the door and leave them undisturbed. If threatened, the peacock butterfly will open its wings to reveal large blue ‘eyes’, making it appear to be a much larger animal. This will then give the butterfly enough time to escape from any predators. The showing of the ‘eyes’ can also be accompanied by a hissing sound that can be audible to humans; this sound is made by the butterfly rubbing its wings together. I do wonder if they will survive our mild but very, very wet winter. Damp can lead to fatal fungal infections. We will see. We continue to clear the piles of leaves outside. A job that is still slightly less of a burden due to its novelty and with the mild weather we are outside well after the sun has disappeared. The littlest continues to dive into autumnal piles and our son pushes the wheelbarrow piled high with leaves into the darkness to add more to the growing compost heap.
We finally find our various bird feeders and hang them on the large silver birch outside the kitchen window, together with a couple of big, fat pinecones covered in suet. We are soon rewarded with a return of blue, coal and great tits, chaffinches, wood pigeons, collared doves, green and great spotted woodpeckers and tree creepers. With the onset of the wet weather, our three cats sit on the ledge in the kitchen watching. The birds ignore them completely.
As the end of term nears, we find ourselves enjoying Christmas readings and carol concerts in Amport and Stockbridge. Although the latter one finds us battling a fierce storm resulting in trees down either side of us along Cattle Lane; fortunately Mill Lane is clear, albeit flooded. For us, all this rain is still terribly exciting. Apparently the UK has received 154% of its average rainfall by the end of the month. It is also lovely to enjoy local Christmas church services again.
I fail to send any Christmas cards this year and we just about manage to get a real Christmas tree before the big day, but the smell of pine as you come into the house makes it most definitely worthwhile. This year we also have our true scents of Christmas – frankincense and myrh – brought back from the East where the story began. With life still somewhat chaotic, our upside down Dubai Christmas tree still has its place – I don’t
think that anyone’s seen anything like it, but it makes us smile. The eldest of the Tribe also manages to find some mistletoe in the village and brings it home to hang in the porch. These small traditions have become much more important to the Tribe since living overseas. The mistletoe is laden with sticky, perfectly spherical, small, pearly berries with plenty of healthy, green oval leaves. Mistletoe is a parasite growing out of the bark on the branches of trees. From a distance, big clumps of it can easily be seen high up in the bare branches of trees at this time of year.
Returning to St Mary’s on Christmas Eve for the annual Carols Round the Crib service we enjoy seeing both old friends and meeting new and despite the littlest insisting that she holds the lit candle, both the
church and everyone in it, remain unscathed. A quick visit to The Eagle for the obligatory Christmas drink, before returning home to hang stockings. The only visitor this Christmas Eve is Father
Christmas rather than our previously unwanted intruders. Our home is packed with family over the holidays and it is lovely to all be together again at this festive time, although Father of the Tribe and I do manage an early morning Boxing Day escape, to tramp across the fields in the low lying mist.
As the year draws to a close, we are surrounded by old friends in our home where log fires are burning as the rain beats down outside. We could not be further away from our lives a year ago; life moves on. Happy New Year!
Mother of the Tribe
