(Anna Dillon - The Ridgeway series)       

 HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE

I see my last post here was in April. A lot has happened in my life since then as my wife for 63 years died last May. But life goes on and Christmas is here. A verse of Joyce Grenfell's seems appropriate:

If I should go before the rest of you

Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone

Nor if I go speak in a Sunday voice

But be the usual selves that I have known.

Weep if you must, parting is hell.

But life goes on, so sing as well.

I had intended that this blog should close (running since 2006) since most of the others seem to have faded away. But it is something I have always enjoyed and interacting with your replies (which have likewise tended to fade away). So, "life goes on" and so will this blog.

CHRISTMAS ELEVENSES

Christmas morning 2020. Very quiet. No frost but extremely cold north wind when I took the dog for her morning walk at about 8.00am.

No visitors either that day to cater for, so no traditional lunch for us to worry about. Mrs Avus was cosily ensconced in an armchair engrossed in a crossword (what's new) so I decided on a Christmas morning bike ride.

The temperature meant that I did not intend to go far and since no cafes are open I decided on a route that would bring me home in about two hours with an elevenses break halfway. That would mean somewhere to sit off the bike and that would mean looking for a churchyard on the route. They are usually equipped with a seat somewhere for weary pilgrims.

An ebike means that I am still able to continue cycling, thank God, at 82, post stroke. However I don't manage to work up any body heat since the electric genie does most of the work. However the fact that my arthritic legs revolve on the pedals helps to keep them from seizing them up! But with the temperature at 5C and the chill north wind it was going to seem like below freezing.

So layers of clothing were needed. A Damart thermolactyl long sleeve vest (top grade 5), heavy shirt, fleece sweat shirt and then a Corrine Dennis waterproof/windproof cycling jacket (in fluorescent yellow - I like to be seen). Legs were taken care of with knee length merino wool socks and full length woollen legwarmers, topped with a pair of Hebden Cord traditional cycling trousers, a make long gone. (the fact that these I have worn for 20 years and are only the third pair in my 65 years cycling shows why the firm went under. They are too well made and Lycra, which I abhor, has taken over).

I put on a silk balaclava under my cycling helmet, donned a pair of golfing mitts and was ready to go.

By golly it was cold, but the northerly was behind me and I reached Bilsington church for elevenses, a mince pie and whiskey laced coffee.

Here is the view in the opposite direction the close up blur is because with cold fingers I couldn't be bothered to go for a larger "f stop"! I think it was colder sitting there than actually riding along.

So it was a case of finishing off the flask of coffee then back on the bike to dive down the escarpment and circulate a bit of Romney Marsh before heading for home. Into that north wind,

Only about 13 miles home but even with all those layers I felt close to hypothermia when I got there! My feet were like solid blocks.

GOOD WISHES TO ALL OF YOU

A Christmas Card to wish all my fellow bloggers good health and happiness over this curious Christmas and for 2021 which I hope will be better for us all.

It is by one of my favourite artists, Anna Dillon and depicts Whitefield Hill, Wiltshire in February. I suppose she could claim copyright, but it is a good introduction to her work if you don't know of her.

2020 has been a poor year for Mrs Avus and me. My heart attack in June led to me being infected by Covid whilst in hospital, which I then gave to her as well. Soon after we emerged from that (fortunately mild) she turned yellow and stopped eating and was eventually diagnosed with a small tumour on her pancreas.This was successfully removed by a "Whipple Procedure" .

But I expect you all have encountered enough doom and gloom this year. So who would have thought that our best, joint Christmas present  was a phone call from our doctor inviting us two 82 year olds in for the first of the two anti-covid jabs tomorrow. Hurrah! Grey skies clear and angels sing Noël!

Try to keep safe and well, folks.

 

SEASONS GREETINGS

It has a been a somewhat unsettling time for a while now but hopefully things are now beginning to settle. So a couple of videos for you all, for this Christmas season.

First, I thought that that "Changes" sung by Alan Price, seemed appropriate

And then, to get a feel for the old time traditional Christmas spirit, poet John Betjeman reading his poem "Christmas". He wrote this in 1940 when Britain was standing alone against the might of Nazi Germany, bombs falling all around. To be living at that time puts our petty current troubles into focus.

A very happy Christmas to everyone. With a peaceful and progressive 2020 (I hope!)

SEASON'S GREETINGS

No wonder the sun was seen as a god by the ancient races. Agriculture and life itself depended on its benediction. It was so important that, to mark is passage, 5000 years ago, a long forgotten people built Stonehenge. The alignments of the mid summer and mid winter solstices can be seen from the stones.

Many now believe that the mid winter one was seen as the most important to those peoples. The gradual darkening of their days towards winter must have filled superstitious folk with terror as the sun "left them." Thus that mid winter solstice must have been the cause of great celebration as the priests "recaptured" the sun and brought it back to them.

When the fledgling Christians decided to superimpose their feast days on the old Pagan ones it must have seemed natural that their most important one, the birth of their Christ, should coincide with that mid winter solstice.

I tend to experience SAD symptoms at this dull time of year, so the lengthening of the days after 21st December gives me a shot of pagan joy. Slowly at first but then quickening, the the light at mornings and evenings increases - over the next 6 weeks we shall get 33 minutes of longer daylight. It cannot lengthen fast enough for me!

So Seasons Greetings to my readers. These times seem somewhat stark, so I am signing off with not a pretty Christmas carol, but "Fairytale of New York", by The Pogues, with Kirsty MacColl. Its opening lyrics are:

It was Christmas Eve babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me

Won't be seeing another one

And then he sang a song

The Rare Old Mountain Dew

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you.

Got on a lucky one

Came in at eighteen to one

I've got a feeling

This year's for me and you

So happy Christmas

I love you baby

I can see a better time

When all our dreams come true.

They've got cars big as bars

They've got rivers of gold

But the wind goes right through you

It's no place for the old

When you first took my hand

On a cold Christmas Eve

You promised me

Broadway was waiting for me

You were handsome

You were pretty

Queen of New York City

When the band finished playing

They howled out for more

Sinatra was swinging

All the drunks they were singing

We kissed on a corner

Then danced all night...

CHRISTMAS GREETINGS

It has been a weird and upsetting year for many. On the local and international front unexpected political changes have caused dismay and mistrust. Also the terrible situation in the Middle East, that supposed genesis of civilisation and the original home of someone who preached, "Love thy neighbour as thyself", shows no sign of abating.

So it is hard to wish everyone a "Happy Christmas", a phrase which trips lightly off the tongue. Let me just hope that yours will be peaceful and that as we enter yet another year, somehow, things will, gradually, resolve. That very Middle East was the originator of this phrase:

"This, too, shall pass" 
(Persian: این نیز بگذرد‎‎, īn nīz bogzarad; Arabic: لا شيء يدوم‎‎, lit. "nothing endures"; Hebrew: גם זה יעבור‎‎, gam zeh ya'avor)
it is an adage indicating that all material conditions, positive or negative, are temporary.

In this year, too, Leonard Cohen entered "The Tower of Song". I published this clip some years ago, but make no apologies for sharing it with you again. After all, shepherds are supposed to have heard angels singing "Hallelujah" on that first Christmas Day.

                         

A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS PRESENT

I am not hoping for a similar Christmas present to the one I received last year (a stroke), but did treat myself to a little something:

Roxy is a medium size little bitch, cross breed, about 6 years old, in residence at the local  RSPCA kennels. She had been taken into care because her female owner had to seek sanctuary in a refuge centre where pets are not allowed. My wife and I spent some time with her and became good friends. The inspector came to look at her new home yesterday, pronounced it "ideal" and we pick her up on the 28th December. (It did not seem fair to take in a new dog until after Christmas day when we shall have about 8 people in the house).

She is a bit different from my previous, large/male GSDs, but I no longer have the physical/mental strength to control such dogs, who need strong owners otherwise they can "take over" and become pack leader.

I have had dogs in my life for over 50 years, but did wonder, when my last one was put down, whether I should get another, particularly after the stroke. But the wound of loss never quite heals over. Even after 18 months I still expect a dog to welcome me home as I open the front door.

 I was looking at dogs at rescue centres on the internet. Many appealed but  Roxy had something that said "take me please" so take her I shall. It may have had something to do with her colouring, reminding me of my last black and tan GSDs. It may have been the expression on her face. But my dog-friendly daughter (HHnB) has always maintained that " when the right dog needs you, it will find you".

May I wish you all  a very happy Christmas and a peaceful and healthy 2016.