Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Holy Supper...part one

You know how, despite your best laid plans, everything goes pear shaped sometimes? Well, that's my Yule. Not necessarily in a bad way, nothing catastrophic or unpleasant has happened, its just that nothing has turned out the way I intended.

Our excursion to the deep, dark, dismal pit that is Leicestershire (no offence intended to anyone who lives there, but I was born there, and spent the first thirty-two years of my life there- I've earned the right to insult it) took longer than expected as I've previously said. The journey home was punctuated by a trip to Glastonbury that, in hindsight, was time consuming and fruitless (every so often we feel the pull towards it, time having dimmed our memories, yet I always come away disillusioned and disappointed). The urge to spend the night of the 21st/22nd somewhere special was still there and unfulfilled by Glastonbury so we did a slight detour on to Dartmoor to visit my tree (a very old beech tree I have developed quite an affinity with). I never fail to come away without some special message or gift and this time was no exception but more on that another time.

After all of this we arrived home utterly exhausted with no hope of a Sviata Vechera celebration for the solstice. I was barely capable of making a cheese sandwich, I hadn't a hope of cooking a full blown meal.

So... we rescheduled. Christmas Day it would be. That made sense in this strange little mind of mine. It's a day I find particularly dull once the presents have been opened, so Holy Supper would liven it up no end, it was a day which would mean something to our ancestors (lets face it, most of us have to go a bloody long way back before we find someone in our blood line who would have celebrated  winter solstice) and it was a day I'd be spending much of in the kitchen anyway. It was a win win situation. Or so I thought.

I hadn't bargained on my thyroid interfering. Its my own fault, forgetting to pack my medication when we went away possibly amounts to one of the more stupid things I've done in the last year. It's quite scary to see how dependant I've become on my levothyroxine and I really don't like that...but it keeps me functioning as near to normal as its possible for me to be so I have to be grateful for that. But a week without it really took its toll, and by Christmas Day I was in that achey, zombie state which indicates my thyroid starved body and mind are on go slow.

I did manage to cook a nice meal; a lovely roast lamb dinner ( my mad druid hates turkey, and Christmas eve shopping means you take whatever is left so no duck for us this year). I hadn't managed to set up my ancestor altar, at least not the way I wanted it (I'm still waiting for a few old photo's my mum hasn't managed to dig out yet) and although we enjoyed a few drinks, neither of us were up to full blown partying.

It was then the mad druid made a suggestion, and from there everything fell into place. The right date for our Holy Supper had been staring us in the face all along. New Year's Eve is not only his late mother's birthday but also the anniversary of my grandmother's death. It is a date significant to both our families, gives me time to collect those extra photos, try out some of the recipes in my Great-Grandma's recipe book (on loan from my mum), and force feed my thyroid with adequate medication. So, rescheduled yet again, New Year's Eve is the new date for our Holy Supper.

But what of Christmas Day? It would have been a shame to let all that cooking go to waste.

And so we set an extra place as planned and filled the room with candles in memory of the forgotten dead, all those souls who have no one to remember them. I don't think our own dead will mind waiting, in fact I know they are looking forward to seeing in 2012 with us, and a little bit of peace on earth and good will to all men- even those who are no longer with us- goes an awful long way.

1 comment:

  1. I love your idea to set an extra plate at Christmas - I'm going to borrow it for next year. I'm sorry that your excursion to Glastonbury didn't turn out how you had hoped, but happy to hear your tree communion was satisfying.

    Cheers for the new year!