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Ancient and Modern

I’m pretty happy here in Melbourn, having been accepted in a way I did not expect.

I’ve always had ties with the village, as my great-grandmother, Annie Janet Cannon, lived at ‘Oakdene’, 89 High Street, next to what now is Premier Food Stores (The Spar to me!). Something in the back of my mind says this shop was called ‘Bands’, (It would be great if anyone had knowledge of this).

We used to cycle over from Whaddon to visit her, and my ‘Aunty Ivy’. My grandmother married Bert Carter, who I seem to recall may have had/worked for a garage or taxi service in the village. However, I digress.

Christmases in Whaddon were poor, but idyllic. In the poem on page 6 I reminisce about making the Christmas Pudding in what seemed to me to be an enormous light brown china bowl. Mum allowed me a few stirs and to drop in the silver sixpence. I always hoped I would find it in my portion! It was then left to simmer for hours on the black lead kitchen range. Then we made the paper chains, cutting coloured paper into narrow strips, then into smaller lengths, threading them into loops stuck with glue from a plastic bottle with a large rubber lip!

Coloured crepe paper came in folded oblong packets Coloured crepe paper came in folded oblong packets which also could be cut into strips, which, when twisted made a lovely curly chain, being very resilient and stretchy.

Mum taught me how to gather twigs and decorate then with tiny paper flowers from this paper, fixing them with fine wire to produce a graceful flower tree.

I hung a stocking made of felt on the bottom bed post and … lo and behold! in the morning I found an orange in the toe, some nuts and sweets, and, oh so treasured – a book! ‘Girl Friend Annual’ comes to mind. I even had the ‘Biggles’ books! I am still an avid reader. Thank you Mum!

I made cards, sprinkling glitter on them from a plastic tube on hand drawn pictures. I even painstakingly coloured in doilies with water colour, to make a pretty place mat. I don’t know from where Dad got the real Christmas tree, but in my mind can still smell it now. And that crepe paper was used to wrap around the bucket in which it stood. It was hung with heavy little figurines and parcels that marched out once a year.

On Christmas Day, at 8.00am we listened to the Christmas Bells from around the world … Mum especially loved those from Bethlehem. Magic times.

Times moved on and so did I. Now in Melbourn I still enjoy decorating, but now only concentrate on my window. Arthritis doesn’t sit well with step ladders! Modern decorations have also moved with the times. The only coloured lights I had at Whaddon were candle wax in coloured glass bowls that I hung on the real Christmas tree in our garden, that was planted by mum when I was born,

Now we have LEDs, crystal salt lamps, singing Father Christmases and beautiful crafted glass and plastic baubles, snowflakes and icicles etc.

I still put holly round the picture frames and TV; Santa doesn’t come down a chimney, but arrives in a glorious flashing sleigh pulled by a local haulier’s lorry, blasting out ‘potted’ carols. But well done to the Round Table for doing this each year, travelling throughout the village, still thrilling the children (and some adults as well).

Yes, I am happy here. Call this nostalgia v modernism: I still call it Christmas. Happy Christmas everyone. Yvonne Chamberlain