Family Ramblings... Written by Hanne B
W
reath Making – it said on the pretty little calligraphed note at my local coffee shop. ‘Why not?’ I thought and gave Lizzie a call. ‘I do own a forest, you know. You are more than welcome to collect some foliage to stick your front door if that is what tickles your fancy?’ Lizzie clearly was not enamoured with the idea at first, but, a week later, we knocked on the door to a small cottage in Wiltshire and I could tell she was actually quite excited. We each had a bag full of foliage from Lizzie’s forest and while we waited for the wreath-making lady to open the door, Lizzie opened her bag to let me see the contents. ‘I really just picked Juniper branches’ she said with a cheeky smile. The scent of Juniper hit me the way a cleaning product in a spray-bottle does. ‘And look! I got these adorable little ornaments on Etsy.’ she said with added enthusiasm. ‘They are gin-inspired. Or ginspired if you will.’ I looked at her perhaps a little puzzled, but she continued; ‘This one is a little bell and it says “gin-gle bells” on it!’ She laughed heartily. I pulled out a tiny string of bunting from Lizzie’s bag and read the words on each little triangle as I reached it. “La la la la la la la la Gin.”
Even my daughter, waiting just behind us with the dog couldn’t help but giggle. ‘Welcome to wreath making’ chirps the wreath-making lady. She shows Lizzie to one table while my daughter and I are instructed to share another. ‘Please place your foliage under your tables to ensure you have room to make your wreaths’. My daughter and I are eagerly pinning little pine twigs on to a ring made of straw. ‘This is fun, don’t you think? I ask her, loving our mother-daughter bonding moment – those are so few and stolen these days. ‘Move on now, to your decoration foliage’ wreath-making lady instructs in a loud, clear voice whilst clapping her hands and, for a moment, I feel like I am on bake-off. My daughter ducks under the table to grab some of our forest foliage, but when she pops back up her facial expression has changed to one of befuddlement. ‘Mum? Why is it all wet?’ I do what all mothers do, yet what no mother ever should; I lift the moss to my nose and smell it. ‘Oh my god!’ I say and continue in a controlled whisper through my teeth; ‘where is the dog!?’ The dog is taking a nap under Lizzie’s table. Apparently, the pile of juniper twigs is “the napping area”, whereas the space under our table is “the toilet area.” In all the excitement, I had completely
forgotten to walk him after our car journey. Lizzie laughs, my daughter eventually laughs although the expression of disgust takes some time to wear off. Wreathmaking lady is not laughing. ‘You’ll just have to share foliage with your friend,’ She says and hands me an old cloth with which to wipe the floor. ‘Throw that out when you are done, please.’ As we are unpacking the car back home and just as we delicately extract our homemade wreath from the boot, Esther’s teacher walks past us with her dog. ‘I made a wreath’, says Esther ‘Look!’ At first, Esther’s teacher is taken aback by the smell of Juniper. But her head does not move back quite far enough. I know this, because judging from the look she sends me, I know she’s spotted all the little puns that adorn our masterpiece. ‘Let the festivities be-gin.’ I say. I know when I’ve been beaten… Hanne Bonczoszek is a local author whose first Children’s book ‘Esther’s Invisible Grandma’ is available via �facebook. com/invisiblegrandma. Hanne lives in Salisbury with her husband, her two children and a Cockapoo named Enzo.
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