Susan Tate’s Year – December

At the beginning of the month Judith holds her Christmas Bazaar for the leprosy charity.  The Bazaar was started by Judith’s mother and her daughter is set to continue the good work.   Along one side of the church hall trestle tables are set out with an array of little gifts collected by people throughout the year, a great opportunity for regifting.  My contributions this year were a set of scented candles and a bar of Lily of the Valley soap in a pretty tin.  The main space has various raffles and games ‘£1 A Go’ set up: guess the number of sweeties in a jar, pick the name of the doll.  Plus traditional raffles for fruit cakes, chocolates and alcohol.  I do most of the games and raffles as a way to contribute with no expectations of winning.  This year was a little different.  I thought when I picked ‘Frederick’ in ‘What’s The Bear’s Name?’ from the list, it didn’t occur to me it would win.  A little girl next to me was absolutely crest fallen, she hadn’t won anything at the Bazaar but her older brother had won the sweetie jar, a plastic train and 3 bars of chocolate.  I really didn’t want a giant polar bear with a pink glittery bow, where would I put it and what would Charles Dickens say?  So with all the grace of a magnificent benefactor I gave the little girl Frederick.  The sense of self smugness was a bit disconcerting.

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I bought some homemade vanilla fudge at the Bazaar.  Delicious.  In one of my ‘Let’s Give Cooking A Go Again’ rash moments I decided to try my hand at fudge making.  Chocolate is always popular with Hilary’s girls.  Well, I slaved over a saucepan stirring and stirring.  It is sort of set, but only if I keep it in the fridge.  Leave it out for more than 5 mins and it starts to go soft and becomes a gooey runny mess.  Tastes sort of ok, but not fudge as you would know it.  Revert to plan B and buy some from the fudge shop in town tomorrow.

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Hilary has booked the Panto at the Marlowe for us all.  I remember going to see Sir Ian McKellen in Aladdin at the Old Vic with Hilary over 10 years ago.  We both commented on how good Sir Ian’s legs were in tights, much shapelier than any woman’s.  In the interval we overheard a young boy earnestly ask his dad, ‘Are you Sure that’s Gandalf?’  It was clear the boy’s parent couldn’t rustle up a response so just said ‘would you like an ice cream?’  I wonder whether the boy was ever reconciled to Gandalf and Widow Twankie being one and the same person.  We had some trouble explaining to Hilary’s youngest about the role reversals.  She is oddly old fashioned for such a young person and couldn’t understand why a girl wanted to dress up as a man.  ‘Isn’t being a girl more important?’ I couldn’t question her sentiments.  There was the usual audience participation, the worst bit.  Even as a child I didn’t enjoy this part.  After the performance we went back to Hilary’s for a slap up high tea with cakes, scones and sausage rolls.  Derek joined us for the tea and drove back to the cottage, settling in for a cosy evening by the log burner with Charles Dickens between us as a lap warmer.

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Rehearsals for the Christmas Concert progress slowly.  Charlotte has gone overboard this year with Rutter.  The worst culprit being the ‘Shepherd’s Pipe Carol’, known to all singers as the ‘Shepherd’s Pie Carol’, beef or lamb? Somehow it manages to be twee and jazzy at the same time.  Quite a feat.  I don’t think there is anyone in the choir who likes the piece.  To be honest I prefer the traditional carols we do on The Green.  It feels more festive and seasonal, there is a spontaneity that isn’t there for the formal concert with the vicar.

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Derek has invited me to a New Year’s Eve fancy-dress party. It is an annual event at the Auction House, can’t remember the last time I went to a fancy-dress party.  This year’s theme is Toby Jugs.  Oh God, how do I dress as a Toby character?  Some of the staff take it all extremely seriously, sourcing their outfits from costumiers in London and those with am-dram connections commandeer the assistance of the wardrobe mistress.  I think with a little effort I can turn an old long green jacket into something vaguely like a frock coat, tuck my trousers into long socks and some buckles made of cardboard covered in tin foil on a pair of plain black shoes with a lacey cravat to finish the whole thing.  Might work?!?  There’s a prize for the best.  After several hours cursing my sewing machine I’ve had a light bulb moment.  I’ve spent the last couple of evenings searching the internet for pictures of Toby Jugs.  I printed them out in colour on the library printer.  We are not supposed to use the printer for personal stuff, except in an emergency.  Have decided this counts as an emergency, my self-esteem is at stake.  I spent the evening cutting round the pictures and then attaching them to a plain dress, I thought of pinning them, but decided that wouldn’t work as the pins might stick in.  Then I tried safety pins but ran out after 9 jugs.  So, I have settled on tacking them onto the dress, time consuming but less liable to fall off.  If I print a few more I can cover myself in Toby Jugs.  When Derek saw it he thought it splendid and we have done the same to his old porter’s overall.  Derek found a couple of 3 cornered hats on the internet to top off the ensemble.  We looked pretty good if I say so myself.

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We didn’t win 1^st prize but we were commended for our ingenuity.  I really enjoyed myself at the party, a great way to round off what has been an eventful and interesting year.