Misty lanes

It’s a very misty, moisty evening. Driving through the country lanes around Thaxted is quite scary. The fog seems to be rolling in like waves. There was a particularly spooky moment which unfurled when Nathan suddenly asked what was flashing and, after a lot of bloody-hell-I’ve-no-idea-ing, we realised a plane landing at Stansted was passing over us. Its landing lights were being magnified by the mist. It felt like an alien landing!

We’ve been in Thaxted this evening at a little games party arranged for my friend Helen. It’s become a sort of annual tradition. We eat a cold collation, Helen brings a walnut roulade, Sally, Stuart and the kids come over and we have quizzes and play parlour games. The highlight of this evening was very much the resurrection of a high-energy game called Ratfink, which involves a pack of cards and a load of spoons. It was a massive part of my teenaged years. I have incredibly fond memories of groups of us sitting around the kitchen table, shrieking with adrenaline-fuelled laughter as we played it. The kids loved it. I come into my own when children reach their teenaged years, largely because I remember mine so vividly and, as a result, have a good sense of what’s cool and fun.

We came away with a pot of honey from Sally and Stuart’s very own hives, which, this year, were immensely successful, generating over 100 pots of the sticky stuff. It’s absolutely delicious.

Helen, as ever, was great company. The older I get, the more attached I become to my very oldest friends. After the year Helen’s had, which has involved two major operations and peritonitis, I’m genuinely surprised she’s still standing!

The rest of the day has been spent rushing about, trying to buy last-minute presents, and doing the bits of admin we kid ourselves won’t wait until after Christmas, like Christmas is this mega watershed moment which threatens the end of the world.

I don’t know why we do it. Everyone panics about the presents they’re buying. We all think what we’re giving is a pile of old crap, and largely it is. This year I have tried to steer away from the sort of Made-in-China nonsense tat which generates a five second laugh on Christmas Day before being tossed into a cardboard box and never seen again. My presents are therefore mostly either perishable (edible, dissolvable), hand-made or antique. But it really is all such a dreadful and expensive nonsense. Next year, if anyone feels the need to buy me anything at all, buy me a cheap pair of vintage or unusual cuff links which I can add to my collection. Easily stored, nice to look at, and practical.