Don't bring me Advent calendars of falsehood, myth and lies; bring me the Advent calendar of fact
I've made the pigs in blankets now, by the way. Christmas was nearly cancelled, as apparently some form of butchery-related mishap means we do not have the requisite 47cwt of Cumberland sausage. I mean, we've still got 47cwt of sausage, it's just that some of it is Lincolnshire.
Can you believe it?
I know.
I've wrapped all the Lincolnshire up in bacon and am hoping no one will notice.
Long-term readers will know that me being called upon to link un-linked Cumberland sausage and wrap some of it in bacon is a long-standing Christmas tradition, along with decorating the tree, having a nice fire, and not going out there because it's bloody windy.
This Christmas Eve has been all over the shop. ChrisC and I got to Darlington yesterday, but Christmas Eve being a Sunday has properly messed with everything. The parents have already done the butcher-run, because today is Sunday (butcher closed). Plus what do you have for Sunday dinner, when you know the next day is already going to contain the mother of all roasts? (ChrisC says "a roast anyway, you idiots", everyone else said "corned beef pie". At least, they did once the idea of a corned beef pie had been mooted.)
My parents' church is having some form of volunteer-shortage at the moment, and my parents seem to be stuck with verger duty - that basically means opening up the church, moving various things out of the safe to the place they're meant to be, and doing general set-up. I went along to help, but mostly got in the way.
The mother, handing me a silver box of communion wafers: Can you put that on the credence table.
Me: Sure.
Me: Just one more question. What is the credence table?
I managed to get through twenty-plus years of church attendance, Sunday school, communion-preparation and being in the choir without ever learning that that odd-shaped block of stone with a glass top was a credence table.
And then I stood still for too long, so got given the job of lighting the candles in the Advent wreath during the service.
Similarly, once it was all over and it got to the ecclesiastical washing up stage...
The mother: Can you pass me that chalice?
I did.
The mother: No, the chalice. That's a ciborium.
(If you're curious... silver goblet, contains wine: chalice. Silver goblet with lid, contains wafers: ciborium.)
Anyway, we came home for a soupy lunch and threw some decorations about. Then the parents went off to do various similar complicated things (plus robing small shepherds) for the kids' crib service. I stayed at home to finish the decorating and listen to carols from King's, because I have a morbid fear of being compelled to sing Away in a Manger. (And then King's choir sang it anyway, the miserable sods.)
This year, ChrisC and I have been musing on the slightly deranged collection of Christmas traditions that we have evolved since we moved in together. We have a set structure to our festive season: drive up to his parents for a bit, go to my parents for a bit, back to his parents, back in London for our friend's birthday on the 29th. However there is also now a fairly sizeable list of things we require to achieve before it can properly be called Christmas. On balance, there is something of a risk that it might not be Christmas yet.
1. Pizza. Owing to a historical accident, we have pizza at Ealing's lovely Neopolitan pizzeria on the Saturday before Christmas. Due to poor temporal location of Christmas this year, we got in early and went on the 16th.
2. A pint of Bengal Lancers. This is a Fullers Christmas beer; it's a strongish IPA. It's not my favourite beer by any means, but the beginning of the Christmas period tends to see it appearing on draft in Fullers' pubs, so a pint of it is one of the facts of Advent. Disappointingly, I haven't actually tracked any down this year. It usually just sort of happens. (I do this tradition; ChrisC doesn't like beer.)
3. Listening to Bob Dylan's Christmas album. This is a recent addition of ChrisC's - I have mercifully thus far avoided it. ChrisC describes it as "exactly what you would imagine a Dylan Christmas album to sound like, but you can't believe it exists" and "hilarious for all the wrong reasons". Fortunately, he does this one.
4. Buying a precarious bauble. When I was a kid, we always bought a new Christmas tree bauble in the run up to Christmas. Sadly, with the advent of non-breakable baubles, the attrition rate has dropped sufficiently low that we are a bit overrun with the things. Hence the design requirement that anything we buy must be fragile. Disappointingly, this year we didn't find anything breakable that wasn't also massively and impractically heavy. Really. Ridiculously heavy baubles appear to be A Thing this year.
5. Singing along to Pappy's. So, there is a podcast called Pappy's Flatshare Slamdown. ChrisC is a fan; I can take it or leave it. However, their Christmas episode invariably involves a deeply deranged version of the Twelve Days of Christmas, which can be played at home as a singalong game. You can listen to the podcast here (the song part is at the very end).
6. Listening to compilations of Christmas songs. Now, hang on, you might say: Venta, you famously dislike Christmas songs! Sure, I do. That's because all the Christmas songs, however likeable, have been played to death and I now hate them. However, we have two CDs (ChrisC compiles one, regular as clockwork, every decade) of ridiculously obscure Christmas songs. (The CDs are called, if you care, Who's Got The Crackers? and Gobble Gobble Hey.) They come off the shelf exactly once a year, and so neither of us is sick of them yet. They get played in the car driving north.
7. It has become traditional to eat the two pies of Christmas: a steak pie made by ChrisC's mum (usually consumed pre-Christmas on our way north), and a pie made by the mother which has various names, but is frequently referred to as Christmas-leftovers pie (obviously consumed post-Christmas). We have had our steak pie (it was lovely, thanks) but there is a definite worry that owing to work considerations we will have to head south too early to get the other one. I have promised to construct one ASAP, even if I have to artificially engineer the leftovers. The corned beef pie doesn't count, by the way, even though it was also lovely.
This year's contender for New Tradition is a meal out with friends. A couple of ChrisC's friends still live in the area where he grew up, and we often pop round to say hello. This year the stars aligned and we managed to get out with them, plus their kids, for a pub meal. Which was a jolly lovely evening, and definitely something we should try to repeat.
[Originally posted at https://venta.dreamwidth.org/533712.html]
Can you believe it?
I know.
I've wrapped all the Lincolnshire up in bacon and am hoping no one will notice.
Long-term readers will know that me being called upon to link un-linked Cumberland sausage and wrap some of it in bacon is a long-standing Christmas tradition, along with decorating the tree, having a nice fire, and not going out there because it's bloody windy.
This Christmas Eve has been all over the shop. ChrisC and I got to Darlington yesterday, but Christmas Eve being a Sunday has properly messed with everything. The parents have already done the butcher-run, because today is Sunday (butcher closed). Plus what do you have for Sunday dinner, when you know the next day is already going to contain the mother of all roasts? (ChrisC says "a roast anyway, you idiots", everyone else said "corned beef pie". At least, they did once the idea of a corned beef pie had been mooted.)
My parents' church is having some form of volunteer-shortage at the moment, and my parents seem to be stuck with verger duty - that basically means opening up the church, moving various things out of the safe to the place they're meant to be, and doing general set-up. I went along to help, but mostly got in the way.
The mother, handing me a silver box of communion wafers: Can you put that on the credence table.
Me: Sure.
Me: Just one more question. What is the credence table?
I managed to get through twenty-plus years of church attendance, Sunday school, communion-preparation and being in the choir without ever learning that that odd-shaped block of stone with a glass top was a credence table.
And then I stood still for too long, so got given the job of lighting the candles in the Advent wreath during the service.
Similarly, once it was all over and it got to the ecclesiastical washing up stage...
The mother: Can you pass me that chalice?
I did.
The mother: No, the chalice. That's a ciborium.
(If you're curious... silver goblet, contains wine: chalice. Silver goblet with lid, contains wafers: ciborium.)
Anyway, we came home for a soupy lunch and threw some decorations about. Then the parents went off to do various similar complicated things (plus robing small shepherds) for the kids' crib service. I stayed at home to finish the decorating and listen to carols from King's, because I have a morbid fear of being compelled to sing Away in a Manger. (And then King's choir sang it anyway, the miserable sods.)
This year, ChrisC and I have been musing on the slightly deranged collection of Christmas traditions that we have evolved since we moved in together. We have a set structure to our festive season: drive up to his parents for a bit, go to my parents for a bit, back to his parents, back in London for our friend's birthday on the 29th. However there is also now a fairly sizeable list of things we require to achieve before it can properly be called Christmas. On balance, there is something of a risk that it might not be Christmas yet.
1. Pizza. Owing to a historical accident, we have pizza at Ealing's lovely Neopolitan pizzeria on the Saturday before Christmas. Due to poor temporal location of Christmas this year, we got in early and went on the 16th.
2. A pint of Bengal Lancers. This is a Fullers Christmas beer; it's a strongish IPA. It's not my favourite beer by any means, but the beginning of the Christmas period tends to see it appearing on draft in Fullers' pubs, so a pint of it is one of the facts of Advent. Disappointingly, I haven't actually tracked any down this year. It usually just sort of happens. (I do this tradition; ChrisC doesn't like beer.)
3. Listening to Bob Dylan's Christmas album. This is a recent addition of ChrisC's - I have mercifully thus far avoided it. ChrisC describes it as "exactly what you would imagine a Dylan Christmas album to sound like, but you can't believe it exists" and "hilarious for all the wrong reasons". Fortunately, he does this one.
4. Buying a precarious bauble. When I was a kid, we always bought a new Christmas tree bauble in the run up to Christmas. Sadly, with the advent of non-breakable baubles, the attrition rate has dropped sufficiently low that we are a bit overrun with the things. Hence the design requirement that anything we buy must be fragile. Disappointingly, this year we didn't find anything breakable that wasn't also massively and impractically heavy. Really. Ridiculously heavy baubles appear to be A Thing this year.
5. Singing along to Pappy's. So, there is a podcast called Pappy's Flatshare Slamdown. ChrisC is a fan; I can take it or leave it. However, their Christmas episode invariably involves a deeply deranged version of the Twelve Days of Christmas, which can be played at home as a singalong game. You can listen to the podcast here (the song part is at the very end).
6. Listening to compilations of Christmas songs. Now, hang on, you might say: Venta, you famously dislike Christmas songs! Sure, I do. That's because all the Christmas songs, however likeable, have been played to death and I now hate them. However, we have two CDs (ChrisC compiles one, regular as clockwork, every decade) of ridiculously obscure Christmas songs. (The CDs are called, if you care, Who's Got The Crackers? and Gobble Gobble Hey.) They come off the shelf exactly once a year, and so neither of us is sick of them yet. They get played in the car driving north.
7. It has become traditional to eat the two pies of Christmas: a steak pie made by ChrisC's mum (usually consumed pre-Christmas on our way north), and a pie made by the mother which has various names, but is frequently referred to as Christmas-leftovers pie (obviously consumed post-Christmas). We have had our steak pie (it was lovely, thanks) but there is a definite worry that owing to work considerations we will have to head south too early to get the other one. I have promised to construct one ASAP, even if I have to artificially engineer the leftovers. The corned beef pie doesn't count, by the way, even though it was also lovely.
This year's contender for New Tradition is a meal out with friends. A couple of ChrisC's friends still live in the area where he grew up, and we often pop round to say hello. This year the stars aligned and we managed to get out with them, plus their kids, for a pub meal. Which was a jolly lovely evening, and definitely something we should try to repeat.
[Originally posted at https://venta.dreamwidth.org/533712.html]