It is with some relief that I can report that the commencement of today’s record of Christmastide merriment began with the cheerful whoop of a cork being removed. Abstinence has been narrowly averted. In a move of particular specialness, Keith threw out the corkscrew yesterday on the grounds that it, and most certainly not he, had made a howk of removing a cork from a bottle of claret earlier in the week. He threw it out before the replacement had arrived (currently storm tossed in the Christmas post, and possibly doomed to the tender mercies of Evri..). I was directed to an elderly Swiss Army knife. I note at this point that this was perhaps designed especially to keep the troops sober. After much puffing and blowing, and utilising the holding the bottle with slippers technique, we were envinulated. Only Keith…..
Today, with Lachlan over to walk Lyra, I decided to set to making some Christmas wreaths. An exchange with someone a few days ago had confirmed my suspicion that purchased frames were little more that twig rings. Well I have whippy twigs in abundance so as soon as the son and co-heir was off I nipped out and cut an armful of red cornus stalks, as long and as straight as I could find. I find that anything thicker at the base than a pinky finger is a bit too tough to bend but there were plenty that fitted the bill. In the past I’ve made hoops by stretching around a pan to maintain the shape – but I wanted a big one this time and whilst mum’s idea of using the top of the Tardis compost bin would have worked, it would have been mucky. I decided to utilise the laws of physics and it worked splendidly (Mr McPherson would have been mightily surprised as I don’t think I ever had an experiment that didn’t land on the floor – I was a theory and equations girl).
I used the first twig to make a rough loop by securing the thin tail to the thick end with wire, ouroboros style. Because the thick end was stronger this pulled the shape more into a pointed ended speech bubble. However, by weaving in a second strand, twisting it around the first loop, with the thick end of that twig directly opposite the first the opposing forces of the two strong thick bits were equalised and the shape moved more to an oval. Yes, you guessed it – by adding two more twigs with the thick ends at 3 and 9 on the clock face (assuming the first two were 12 and 6) hey presto – it was a passable circle.
Stands back and bows to receive applause
To this I added some lengthy sprays of bay from the big bay trees and the broad framework was done. At this point Mum and I hared off in the car to the woods to denude a holly tree we had spied last week of its well berried branches. Someone had beaten us to it, removing all the lower branches, so we had to stretch up on tippy toes to yank the remaining ones down, getting wet and prickled, but there were plenty. We topped up the haul with some fir and yew and a few strands of Ivy and pootled back. The haul was tipped on the table and woven through, with the ends being secured between a couple of bits of twig and any poking out bits tied in with twine. It was, in retrospect, an error to put the holly in before the other bits. I was prickled and pierced for the rest of the project, as gaps were filled with santolina and rosemary. The whole thing was twisted through with ribbons and we were done. Lachlan went home with the smaller one and I went off to hang the big one. I hesitated over front and back doors but then concluded that the front seems only to be used for ambulances, people selling “spare” tarmac and the incredibly rare occasions the Evri driver finds us. So the back door it was, so that the people who matter get the benefit.
PS – Jumper back’s now done – I’m on a sleeve and have added a bit of cabling – just because.
Tricky question today: What is pannage?
Yesterday’s answer (and a book recommendation): An unexploded bomb. The novel, Small Bomb at Dimperley is rather lovely
