Candlemas and Plastic Tulips

We will take our tree down today. This one has maintained its appearance pretty well for the whole 40 days, albeit drooping slightly at the tips of the branches for the past week or so. Over the mobile phone, my Beloved and son tried to persuade me to give in to having an artificial tree this year, whilst they frantically scoured the country looking for a bargain on Christmas Eve, and found that the recession had made everyone mean - they weren't dropping their prices, as they usually do in the garden centres (and there's no way we could afford the full price.) I tried to convince myself that the convenience of it would far outweigh my repulsion at a "man-made" evergreen, and told them to do what they must.

I remember an Art history lecturer at University, telling us that the word "artificial" originally had a good connotation, ie that it meant something that had been made by art, something considered beautiful. When I was a little girl, in the days before supermarkets (gosh, am I that old? ) a great big bus used to drive to the town where we lived, and my mum would go into it to buy groceries. On the driver's dashboard at the front were some tulips, and I loved them so much that I longed for my mum to buy them (I think I asked her to once, but she told me they belonged to the bus-driver). They were artificial, but not like the modern-day silk flowers, no these were full-blown red plastic, and I don't know why, but I thought they were gorgeous! By the time I was a teenager, and my parents gave up on the yearly hassle of Christmas Tree needles ruining the carpet, I was no longer in love with artificial things, or rather, I now considered the word to be one of insult, and so loathed the green and tinsel monstrosity they put up one year, with bright red plastic tips on the ends of the branches. Suspended from this brash thing, the usual sparkle of the decorations seemed to be somehow diminished.

So it was with a heavy heart, that I agreed to allow one into my house this year. Imagine my delight when the intrepid explorers returned, (despite having been on the brink of purchasing the dreaded artificial item, they had given one last garden centre a try,) bearing one of the loveliest trees we've ever had. What was almost as much of a delight, was that it had been reduced in price from the usual 30 or more quid to £3.50 - a bargain indeed! It has barely shed a needle, (but we don't have carpets to worry about anyway!) and the decorations and lights have twinkled merrily against its dark green backdrop all the way to Candlemas.


But it was when my husband prayed the prayers of the Blessing of the tree, that we both realised that it wouldn't have been the same to utter them over one made of plastic!

Yes, I still do like gaudy things, brightly-coloured objects, and shiny glittery stuff, maybe when this lot comes down at the end of the day, I'll start researching whether one can still purchase plastic tulips; I'll need something to cheer me up!

It's Still Christmas and Epiphany in our house!!

Our fireplace is falling apart - our house was built in the 1940's so has what is known as a backboiler somewhere behind the open fire grate in the front room. As I was cleaning it out last spring, a big lump of metal fell off, consequently, we didn't know what to do with the fire, where the smoke would go etc., if it were lit. This year we haven't had an open fire; a shame, as our son bought a bag of chestnuts in order to roast them over it, as in the song he hears us try to sing around Christmas time. In our "second reception room", a.k.a. the dining room, the fireplace was blocked in a long time ago, but a peculiar little wooden alcove with a hidden light fixture was left just above floor-level. We decided we'd get a man in to estimate for fixing the fireplace in the front room.
I suppose people who have to enter other people's houses, for their work purposes, must be used to seeing some odd sights.

He did very well on entering our front room for he batted not an eyelid about the lovely Mexican crib we have above the fireplace, nor the Christmas cards festooning the walls.

We then took him into the dining room to quiz him about the possibilities of opening up the other fireplace. He again kept his cool, when confronted with our other crib nestling in the strange alcove -

Not to mention the Christmas tree in the corner!







He was very professional, and kept his mind on the job, and has since sent us a reasonable estimate, though we still can't really afford to have the work done. I do wonder what he was thinking though!





The Christmas tradition in our house is such - we put up our tree on Christmas Eve, and sing no Carols until then either (although the occasional silly song about chestnuts on an open fire does sometimes slip out). We try to maintain that spirit of anticipation and preparation for our Saviour's birth, which Advent was once all about, before the "shops" took it over.


Christmas day we celebrate with Mass in the E F, as one is now supposed to call it, if we can get to it. We don't really open presents on This day, although there's usually some small gift for each of us. (We've already celebrated St. Nicholas' day with sweets in our shoes). Then we have a lovely meal with whatever special meat we can afford to get - there are usually some good bargains on Chrismas Eve! We desperately wanted to try goose one year, but they were prohibitively expensive, we settled for duck this year, which we all loved. One day, maybe, we'll be blessed with a goose!


When we see people within the Christmas octave, and they say "did you have a good Christmas", although I usually try to politely answer, "yes, thankyou", I do think to myself, we're still having a good Christmas! - and it's not over for a long time yet! It saddens me to hear people moaning about it, and saying "thank goodness that's all over for this year"


Present opening comes at Epiphany for us. When he was little, our lad believed the 3 Kings brought the presents, as they did for baby Jesus. Now he still enjoys the thought of it, and understands that that feeling of expectation, mystery, and joy, all relate to the gift of Christ to us, and our longing for Heaven.


So, we keep our tree up as long as we can, usually it's shedding fast by the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, and often I take it down then, (which, I think, is when Epiphanytide ends, liturgically speaking). However, this year we were blessed with a lovely long-lasting, non-shedding, tree, so it's staying up, along with the cribs until the Feast of Candlemas, (which is when we always take the cribs down) as we celebrate the Presentation in the Temple of the Baby Jesus, as well as the Purification of Mary, on February 2nd. Then the remembrance of Christ's infancy and Divine Childhood gives way to our preparation for Lent, although since that starts so early this year, we won't have long to wait!






(Hans Holbein's Presentation in the Temple)