I woke up at seven, as usual, lacking sleep as I didn't settle down until half past one. That's been pretty normal for Christmas Eve over decades of late night duty, but unintentional. Somehow time seems to be on hold in a strange way during this winter fiesta. I stayed in bed until the day dawned properly with sun and blue sky, and a few beautifully tinted clouds, listening to a Radio Four programme in which several of the actors who feature regularly in The Archers soap opera spoke of their roles in the never ending story of life in the fictional Midland village of Ambridge.
The programme was in celebration of the seventieth anniversary of the world's longest running serial. In addition, each read a favourite piece of prose or poem with selected music. A unique occasion, to which Auntie Beeb did full justice. Over recent years, a change of editors has resulted in a succession of cutting edge story lines about social concerns above and beyond those impacting on the agricultural industry - coercive relationships, child abuse, environmental pollution, and 'modern' slavery among them - none of them implausible. I've listened on and off over the past sixty years, more so as I've headed into old age and had fewer distractions. Now iPlayer makes it easy to catch up if we do miss an episode. I don;t think I missed one when I was in Ibiza.
At ten, the three of us strolled to St Catherine's for the Eucharist of Christmas Day. There were twenty one of us. We heard there were only nine people for Midnight Mass last night, and four of them were choir, the only occasion on which a handful of masked singer were allowed to perform. With there being so many public services cancelled around Britain as a result of the contagion surge and the general ban on carolling I guess casual as well as regular church attenders would have been deterred from attending. I decided not to go, on the assumption that it was better to make space for others - if only I'd known! I admit I enjoyed hearing the Pope's Mass from St Peters - classic Roman Rite in Italian with sung liturgical Ordinary. I was in my element!
We went straight home from church to prepare our feast of a meal, the turkey was already cooking while we were out. A real Christmas treat! The four kilo bird roasted perfectly. It was full flavoured and succulent. On BBC iPlayer, I found and then played through the hi-fi yesterday afternoon's Nine Lessons and Carols from King's College Cambridge as we drank Veuve Cliquot champagne given to me when I celebrated my golden jubilee of priesthood back in September. We had just a main course of turkey and roast veg, followed by Christmas pudding, washed down with a bottle of Blauburgunder, aka German Pinot Noir. It was a little less elaborate than how it would be if all the family had gathered, and there were different tastes to be catered for, but all three of us were happy. We lacked nothing apart from the delight of a full family gathering.
Just after three we listened to the Queen's Christmas message on iPlayer. It was wonderfully affirmative and inclusive, celebrating the spirit of voluntarism and the great diversity of faiths cultures and talents among people of Britain and the Commonwealth, and yet she made it clear that her unifying visions of her citizens was a product of her steadfast Christian faith. She's the lay person who is head of the Church of England, but talked about people of faith, not about the institutional church. A great example to all lay-people.
The sun shone all day in a mostly blue sky, at a crisp cold three degrees centigrade, just right for a walk after we'd eaten. After opening presents, we went to Thompson's Park, then on to Victoria Park to deliver some fudge to the Rectory. We exited the park through a side street entrance to get back to Romilly Road. I was surprised to be hailed by name by a voice I didn't immediately recognise as we walked down the hill. It was Tony Bishop, who was the City Centre Police inspector when we were starting Cardiff Business Safe. Now he works in the management team of Cardiff Bus, having first retrained as a bus driver after retirement. It seems his daughter recently bought a house in that street. He and his wife enjoyed their first Christmas lunch away from home in thirty years of marriage, he told us with relish. It was such a surprise, given that the streets were otherwise so quiet and empty.
After seeing another spectacular sunset, we relaxed in front of the telly and watched a Christmas edition of 'Call the Midwife', a Clare favourite, with a few snacks rather than an evening meal. Then a quick late night turnaround the block for some cold fresh air to clear the head before turning in. It's been strange, not singing carols in worship, nor even socially this year. We attend public worship as often as we can, but it's such a detached unreal experience, but hopefully unique, if the vaccine roll-out in the coming year has its desired effect. It'll be Easter at least, before we know.
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