Family time

Once again, and despite two significant absences, the carol evening worked its magic. Both of the missing were long-term - maybe even founding - participants. One we knew in advance would not be there: he committed himself to a band a while ago, and has since then been even harder to pin down. But he was so appalled to discover that they had a booking for the night of the carol evening that although we muttered serves him right!, it was hard to men it. Anyway, he was much missed... The other had e-mailed to say that he would definitely be with us, but has for some time been finding socialising difficult, and we weren't entirely surprised that he didn't turn up (worried, yes, but not surprised). But there were new people, who fitted in admirably; there was another regular returned after missing a year for medical reasons; and there was someone so physically transformed since last we met that I didn't recognise him (until the singing started, and then he was unmistakeable).

The mulled wine mysteriously required much less honey than last year, but was still very good. Each year we consume less of it: we are getting older, more of us don't drink at all - and then, as boybear pointed out, those absentees are among the most enthusiastic consumers. Memo to self: the original four-bottle batch would probably have been enough. I refreshed it with another bottle at half time, and then worried that I am turning into my mother - but no, she would have insisted on adding the last bottle in the case. There were fewer mince pies than usual: as the person responsible for warming up the mince pies for the half-time break, I was happy not to have to find baking trays for additional contributions. M. had baked the usual supply, and I think they were ample, but certainly there were none left over.

This is all good, but it's all about the carols. We sang our way through our songbooks (compiled long ago, duplicated and illustrated by our absent friend). We seem to have given up arguing about the order of the carols (mostly as in the book, but starting with O Come Emmanuel because it's an Advent carol, and ending with We Wish You A Merry Christmas because we do), and entertained ourselves instead with the confusion of the musicians, whose books are in alphabetical order. We couldn't find the supplementary sheets (which turned up at the end of the evening under one of the music books) but we sang the Sans Day Carol and Shepherds Arise regardless. I would have said that I left Shepherds Arise to the musicians, who have a fine harmony arrangement, because I don't really feel I know it. But I woke up a couple of days later earwormed by it, so I must know it better than I thought. A. and I disagreed about the pace of In Praise of Christmas (I'd like to try it a little faster, she feels that people take it too fast), but agreed that we would like to sing O Come All Ye Faithful in Latin...

Bonus carols: we did not listen to Radio 4's Sunday Service that morning, even though it was about the Sheffield carolling tradition. But I listened to it today, and enjoyed it.

After this, we were ready for a very quiet Monday. It was cold and bright, and we took the bus to East Finchley, to lunch at Egg and Bake. It's a slow bus ride but a scenic one, through Highgate Village, and it was an excellent lunch, with a choice of vegetarian breakfasts (East Finchley has become trendy since durham_rambler and I lived there.

On Tuesday we visited durham_rambler's family in Essex. In complete contrast, the day was grey and dark, and I decided against taking my camera with me: I very rarely photograph people, so it's just a dead weight on family visits. This was a mistake, as durham_rambler's brother suggested a quick visit to a local nature reserve (the Essex Wildlife Trust Thurrock Visitor Centre), on a former landfill site by the Thames, in aptly named Mucking. The café - because we didn't explore beyond the café - is an impressive circular building, with a ramp around the outside so you can walk up to the roof and admire the view: the silver grey wood of the building, the hazy grey of the river, the darker smudge of Kent on the far side, the leaden grey of the sky. At the top was a poster, one of a series of 'Watermarks' artworks. Inside the building, another ramp leads up to the café itself, circling a shop and providing display space for some fun textile hangings by the Kite Spirit textile group (and I wish I could find some better pictures).

And on Wednesday we came home. That drive doesn't get any shorter, but it went smoothly enough, and we had time to eat and to read the last chapter of Swallows and Amazons for the pub quiz - which we won. So it's good to be home, too.