Every year along with a Christmas Card, family and friends receive a letter. An act of contrition, if you like, for not having kept in touch during the year. So I thought I would share this year's letter with you.
Christmas Letter, December 2009
Hello!
On Saturday last, and having done the weekly shopping at TESCO, Jenny was disbelieving when I asked where the light bulbs were. She had purchased six spotlights, (in two boxes of three), for £18, and had complained about the cost as we unpacked the shopping. And perhaps because they were so expensive, and in response to my enquiry, she was able to tell me exactly which bag they were in. So imagine her dismay when I told her that the only items in that particular bag were: 3 bottles of wine and the TV Times. Well, just to be sure, we revisited the car boot, and scrutinised the bags again, and the till receipt, before she got on the blower to our local TESCO - only to find herself talking to someone in Cardiff. And when she phoned again, an hour or so later, and because the local store was still busy, she found herself transferred to a call centre in Edinburgh. Be that as it may, they were able to tell her that the person she had spoken to in Cardiff, had contacted the store, and that the "Assistant Manager" there, had failed to establish that six light bulbs had been left behind. Well, still unhappy, (for reasons that we don't need to go into here), she later managed to speak to Customer Services at our local store; and as you would expect, the young man was helpful even to the point of going off to Check-Out 5, to investigate. But when he returned, after a long delay, it was bad news. And he had wisely taken the precaution of checking beneath the counter as well as on top.
Well over dinner, and because £18 worth of light bulbs still couldn't be accounted for, Jenny had some uncharitable thoughts about the girl working on the till, which caused me to come over all philosophical on behalf of working men and women.
Well we were lucky. It was the eve of our 34th wedding anniversary and we had something to look forward to, for on the morrow, we were off for an overnight stay at The Neptune Inn in Hunstanton. And whatever about the light-bulb situation there, we knew in advance, that they had a Michelin Star. Well back home on the Monday, it was raining and cold, and we were having Shepherds Pie for dinner, when Jenny remembered that she had some custard that might go with the apple crumble. So imagine my shock when she opened the fridge door and exclaimed. "My God"! "What possible insect" I found myself asking, "could have got into the fridge in the short time that we were away?" But I needn't have worried, for there, in two packs of three, and stacked neatly beside a box (of equal dimensions) of GU Mini Puds, were the light bulbs. My fault. But as Frank Carson would have said: "it's the way they pack em".
Now here is an extract from my diary, and no apologies to those of you who have seen it before, for it is worth repeating. It is dated Thursday 30th July:
"22:07 I was sitting here listening to a recording of plainsong and copying an index of poems by Thomas Hardy, when the phone rang. It was Leo calling for a chat. We talked for a while about the music, and of how Jenny had been moved to tears, listening to the plainsong in St. Peter's Square, before he indicated that he had a reason for calling. It was to tell us that he had asked Lynsey to marry him, and she had said yes. She had no idea that he was going to propose. He booked a restaurant and after the meal they went for a walk down by the river. While down on one knee rummaging in his bag he said to her: "I suppose you would like to get married some day?" "Yes" she said. "Well, that's handy", he told her and produced a box from his bag. It was an engagement ring. As he told me the story it was obvious that he was deliriously happy; and he went on to explain that it wasn't something that he had to do, it was something that he wanted to do, that he loved her, and that the time was right. Well, mum wasn't here to hear the good news, so we concocted a plan whereby I will get her to phone under some pretext. And when I told him that she would be delighted and that the news would be enough to keep her talking for six months, he laughed heartily. He asked if I wanted to talk to Lynsey, but I declined, telling him that it was their moment. Though I had told him beforehand that she would make a superb daughter-in-law. So I have left a note on Jenny's desk asking her to give Leo a call, (on the pretext that he needs some advice re a report that he is writing for work. She will fall for it right away)."
Though they have been to several wedding exhibitions, no date as yet has been set for the big day, in part, I think, because they want to do things in style, and have as many of the respective families as possible involved. So watch this space, for it is more likely to be in 2011 than next year.
In September we had a holiday in Sardinia and Corsica, (the first holiday abroad that we have had for several years), but though it had its high-points, we wouldn't recommend it, because a disproportionate amount of time was spent travelling, (on both islands), from south to north and back again, just to get to the holiday locations. But there are some very interesting pictures on my website, especially those of the Nuraghi, stone dwellings that are unique to Sardinia. No one knows how they were constructed, or exactly what their purpose was; and attempts at reconstructing them have failed. Set on the plains, where there was an ample supply of water, rather than on hilltops as fortresses, they were inhabited from 1,400 - 500 BC.
And just to prove that you don't have to go abroad to have great experiences, here is another entry from my diary dated 20th August:
"Yesterday myself and Jenny spent the day at East Bagholt: the birthplace of the renowned 19th century landscape painter, John Constable. We were due to go last week, but as the weather was poor, we stayed at home; and yesterday we were well rewarded. For though it was almost excessively hot, Flatford Mill was bathed in sunlight, and not overcrowded with visitors. As there was a lot of walking involved on the official guided tour, Jenny decided on a boat trip instead, while I did the tour. As it turned out I was the only one, and that despite the fact that the lady selling the tickets, tried a last minute sales-pitch. But for most, I think it was a case of being overcome by the heat, rather than not wanting to have the experience. So I had Patrick as a guide all to myself, on a tour scheduled to last an hour.
"Semi-retired, Patrick was from the same part of the world as myself, which made for an easy introduction. As we stopped at various points along the way, he produced prints of the scenes as painted by Constable. And though the landscape has altered in two hundred years, the visual connection with his work is still there. The one exception being the view from the the bridge as depicted in "Scene on a Navigable River". There, and almost on a straight line, Flatford Mill is clearly in view. Today it is almost completely obscured by trees. The Dry Dock as it is today, is a striking reminder of what it was, when there was no barge building going on. And on Patrick's prodding I failed to come up with an idea, other than buckets, as to how the dock might have been drained in Constables day. As it turns out, and because the dock is lower than the level of the river, it was drained through a culvert into a ditch beyond the river. As part of the tour we had access to the waterfront area of the mill, and so were able to cross to the Island. Standing in such close proximity to the mill and as Patrick explained the type of processes that went on there, it occurred to me that this very rural setting, might not have been as tranquil a place as Constables paintings suggest. And I was struck by the contrast in colour. Constables landscapes do not reflect the natural light, something that Patrick attributed to the fact that he was required to varnish them. And as we stood directly opposite the mill, at the end of the tour, (looking at it across the water), I remarked, (in terms of art and his reputation), on how much Constable had managed to extract from such a compact area. In reply Patrick referenced an art historian from abroad, who had made exactly that point on his first visit to Flatford Mill. Regrettably I don't recall the name."
For her part, Jenny is still at it: Bridge, Spanish, Flower Arranging, (she is events organizer for the flower club), cinema going, book reading, and nipping out with her friends, for a cup of coffee here and a cup of coffee there. And Christmas, that she has packed with activities, begins today, for she is taking one of her bridge partners, age, 92, to the Christmas Show at Thursford.
My life goes on at a less hectic pace, though it hasn't seemed like it lately, as we have had some major alterations made to the garden in recent weeks. A large area of the hedge in one corner of the garden has been removed completely, (by contractors), so I have been busy, in that corner, planting shrubs. And where they reduced the rest of the hedging by 3-4 feet in places, I have been busy manicuring, and doing my best not to fall into the hedge at the same time. For apart from fishing out from the top of the hedge, sizeable cuttings that had fallen into it, I am cutting back protruding stumps to the level of the top of the hedge. There is nothing poetic or literary in the experience, and the aches and pains are numerous, but my newly acquired Black & Decker electric saw has proved mighty useful.
And we are still theatre going. So if you haven't already seen it, and you have the opportunity, don't miss The Pitmen Painters, by Lee Hall, and especially if it is the co-production involving the National Theatre and Live Theatre, Newcastle. It is based on the book of the same name by William Feaver.
A Happy Christmas, a good New Year, to you all'
__________
© Cormac McCloskey
Frank Carson, Northern Irish comedian one of whose catchphrases was: "It's the way I teel em". Here
Note: This blog, "A Christmas Letter" was first published on Windows Live Spaces, by me, on 4th December 2009
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