Firstly, apologies for not mentioning today is St Andrew's Day - our patron saint. Us northerners prefer to celebrate Hogmanay - that heathen festival of seeing out the old year and welcoming in the new, with drinking, feasting, music, dancing, and stories - most of them to excess.
Us Highlanders have always been a bunch of unruly nonconfromists - we like to dance to our own tunes! But the focus is always on fun, and the celebration is all about friendship.
Instead my musing today is about living simply.
I'm fed up with those online images of textured, tonal, metallic, grey, white, or whatever-the-ontrend rooms with no life on display. I mean, where are the tea towels, dirty dishes, breakfast guddle, stacked up plastic containers, clothes airers etc? Who lives in these pristine rooms with no dog hairs on the sofa, or crumbs on the floor? Who can be bothered karate-chopping a V into every cushion?
I remember my granny's cottage in Caithness as being a home with an uneven flagstone floor, that eventually cracked the floral linoleum covering it, in several places.
However, it was an amazing surface to skate on with two dusters tied to my feet. This activity achieved a high polish on the lino - that pleased Nana and kept me amused for solid ages! Albeit that the cracks stopped a good slide in its tracks!
Her cottage had no definite colour scheme, although she preferred warm colours. She chose curtains and crockery that she liked the look of, for their own particular pattern and colour. And she accommodated hand-me-downs and gifts into her schemes, but only if they had a useful purpose. Her home was small, after all.
The kitchenette consisted of just a dresser, stove and sink. The table sat in the livingroom next to it. But the kitchenette's size was not restrictive. Because hearty meals, soups, stews, puddings, cakes and jams were all produced, effortlessly, there.
At the centre of the livingroom was the fire. It only heated the livingroom. There was no central heating.
We kids got up after we heard the kindling crackle, leaving it another 5 minutes or so until we judged the coal would be well alight, taking the edge of the overnight drop in temperature.
In winter, if we left our jumpers and trousers downstairs, Nana would prop them against pails round the fire to steam the overnight dampness off them, and warm them up. They felt so cosy once we dared to take off our duffle coats, and then our pyjamas, that had moulded round us overnight, to become like an extra layer of skin.
No wonder we congregated round the fire! Warmth was everything in winter. By day, there were pans of soup and stew left to bubble on the drop-down front plate; and if there was an empty paper bag not needed for anything, we could dip the corner of it into the fire and send it up the chimney to wish a wishie, that would surely come true?
In the evening, when the fire calmed to an even orange/red, we took it in turns to use the heavy brass toasting fork to hold a slice of thick bread in front of it, until the slice furled like a dry Autumn leaf. Then we turned it over to toast the other side. It was a delight to spread with thick butter and jam, and have with a steaming cup of strong tea.
Our faces would be bright red, hot and flushed, while our backs remained frozen cold!
The fire was so important to us that it took no stretch of an active imagination to believe that Santa could come down it on Christmas Eve. He filled our stockings with an apple, a tangerine, some small toys, a selection box of chocolate bars, and an annual.
We were happy with that because Mum & Dad gave us our big present. I usually asked for dolls. Then I cottoned onto twins. I don't think I was actually fascinated by the concept of twins, more that I could get x2 dolls!
Times were simple then. Life was simple. I didn't know what other kids got for Christmas. I frankly didn't care. I was happy with what I got, glad for being with family, and the conviviality of games & stories & dancing that fanned the flames of the roaring fire.
Even when times have been poor, I've felt rich in spirit. Being able to be positive is something I've relied on and taken strength from, through the years.
In these austere times, I hope we will all spare a thought for those without the basics this winter. Those without heating. Those who can't see the positives. Those who depend on others.
Be kind this festive season.
: )
