Tuesday, December 3
Martin bagged a couple of rabbits on Sunday. We hung them in the garage and will eat them later in the week or maybe take them along to the pub on Saturday, as we have plenty of beef for the moment. The rabbits remind me of my childhood when we stayed with my great-Aunt Hilda and Uncle Will in their pub near Midhurst at Christmas, where the cellar was filled with well hung game as well as barrels of beer and cider. The hares and pheasants were given by locals in lieu of payment, which fed us well over Christmas, but didn’t pay the bills, my aunt would complain.
I think Martin’s enjoying his role of hunter gatherer and Stephen is going out with him and learning to shoot, which he must do in case Martin is indisposed in future. An accurate shot with an air rifle can bring down the smaller creatures, but if they go after deer they will have to borrow Neil’s gun.
Yesterday Jane opened the second drawer of the Advent calendar and Anna presented us with a homemade Advent candle. I had been saying how sorry I was that we didn’t have one this year and now we do. She had marked a tall white candle with evenly spaced scratches, engraved numbers with a pin, then painted the etched marks with red nail varnish. We shall burn one section every night, just as we normally would and it will seem as if Christmas, and life, is more like it should be.
Only two eggs again today, so I hope there will be eggs on Saturday.