‘Twas the night before Christmas. You could tell this from the furiously furtive wrapping activities and mince pie production-lines and excited children pretending to be well behaved whilst sneakily stealing chocolate baubles from the tree. Whilst I’ve never uttered ‘bah, humbug’ out loud, Scrooge’s words do reflect my feelings about being comprehensively ripped off by myth-making so flexible and so divorced from its origins that even Tommy Yaxley Robinson Lennon can seek to exploit it with some level of impunity.
It was in the midst of these dismal thoughts that the lights went out around the town. As householders scrambled to locate emergency boxes of candles, mobiles pinged with messages from electricity suppliers bearing information about supply outages which might take some time to fix – no doubt the work of Putin’s top team of hackers seeking ransom money.
Households met together on our street to discuss the situation and make plans for the night ahead and following day. Blankets and sleeping bags were shared around as needed and those with outdoor heating equipment fired up log fires and camping stoves, first to boil water for hot water bottles and then to sit round for warmth.
In our block of houses it was decided to move the children into a single room and ensure that they were warm and had drinks and snacks available. Whilst the half-baked minced pies oozed and flopped in cold ovens, and turkeys remained unstuffed, the majority of adults grabbed their alcohol of choice and brought their camping chairs outdoors to sit round the wood fires.
Alarm struck when someone remembered melting fridges and freezers, so the best solution was to eat as much as possible before the food spoiled. First to go were the packets of those savory, 3-for- the- price-of-two, supermarket canapes, – not bad as a one off. Someone with a barbecue suggested that, if the electricity was still off tomorrow, it would be quite possible to manage a dinner over several barbecues. Sorted.
It was a good night once we got stuck into the Christmas cakes. Visitors who had been abiding in the fields arrived to get warm round our fires. They were glad of a bit of food too and even gladder to be invited to dinner the following day. People you’d vaguely seen around now had names and started to look like friends. I half expected 3 wise men on camels to drop by, but that came later didn’t it?
So we snoozed and boozed the night away and by Christmas morning the kids, in full possession of their presents, sat around chatting and sharing. Barbecues were set under makeshift gazebos and a contingent of volunteer turkey dismemberers hacked up and foil wrapped the turkeys for barbecuing. A veggie splinter group ensured a meat free alternative.
By the end of a fabulous but not entirely traditional lunch we were full and happy. Perhaps this is the Christmas spirit: people working and laughing and sharing together without the Christmas ads.
