A Traditional English Christmas?

England is dark – literally.

When I awake it is always still night so I presume it is before 6am. Light eventually arrives around 8am…just.

Checking tweet updates Kristin Hersh reports the attempted suicide by Vic Chesnutt. A gifted singer, musician and composer in his own right, they worked on several projects together. Having spent almost 20 years in a wheelchair, and at only 45 years old, it makes for a difficult start this morning. He lies in a coma in a critical condition.

Boy and I walk Marley in through the Rowehill National Park and hike up to Caesar´s Point, a look-out point over the Farnham Aerodrome. It´s a mere four degrees Celsius and the ground is still covered in ice and snow. Although, skies are grey for the most part, there is a cloudburst that scatters the soft winter light. The fields and trees sparkle briefly. It´s nice to be out, but it´s certainly not a kora.

heading up to Caesar´s Point

A couple of hard-core mountain bikers and dog walkers also brave the chill as do indeed a group of elderly ramblers with large ordinance survey maps strapped around their necks.

We complete a circuit in less than 2 hours and on our return to Chez Nic, Boy disappears into the kitchen to prepare our Christmas fare. Boy shares my love for the kitchen and produces a high quality turkey and veg. accompaniments.

Boy´s turkeys - 2 for three of us

Boy

Boy´s xmas present to himself is Super Mario Brothers for his wii and he gives me somewhat of a whipping. Not really my thing anymore.

By 4.30 the sun sets and the chill bites further. As I hold a Benny Hedgehog in my hand my fingers turns to ice.

although a lapsed Catholic, Nic still likes a tree

Boy visits the Outlaws leaving me more stuffed than the turkeys – I guess this is something of a “traditional” Christmas although I am not sure i know what that means.

I finally get round to responding to Jen´s morning text and we have a quick blather. She asks how the move went, and it all gets a bit emotional. We´ll try and speak soon, and the good gal that she is, has agreed to come down to London from her idyllic village “Up North” for a proper ketchup.

There is still heaps of turkey left and plenty left to be thrust into bagels. Thank goodness my trousers are elasticated.

The night sky is clear and i can count 28 stars - i guess the best you can expect from urban English skies.

Monopoly is brought out and the game lasts about an hour before Boy walks out in a huff. Brilliant!

I am very grateful to Boy and Nic who both make generous hosts, but i miss my bedsit, the kora, proper starry night skies and absent friends.

Ed Adds: Chesnutt has now been confirmed dead