Solstice-mas

Good morning to you. Who’d have thought we’d still be living like this, three months on. I hope you’re keeping well.

I’ve started writing this week and it feels brilliant to be writing.  The writing has been only moderately painful, as opposed to feeling like every word was being dragged out of me with a rusty, steel rope. If you are somebody who writes you will probably know what I mean, if you are not then I don’t really know what to compare it to - the performance of a task which feels difficult, troubling, arduous, but at the same time immensely satisfying. Maybe it’s like running uphill, then coming to the summit and looking out at a stunning view. Not that I’m saying that anything I’m producing is stunning, just that maybe things feel more gratifying when we have to work at them.

What else? Yesterday we had a Summer Solstice picnic.  Sadly this didn’t involve running around naked and jumping into a lake but we did have a lovely, socially distanced picnic with some friends. The kids ran off and made a den in the trees. I’d got the five kids (our children and their pals) a little present to unwrap, to give the whole thing a sense of occasion. This gift was a hot chocolate kit, consisting of a large chocolate ‘spoon’ with a packet of marshmallows, and some novelty sticky notes. The children seemed pleased and promptly ate the chocolate spoons and marshmallows - the kit never made it to the hot drink stage.
For years we’ve been talking about having some kind of solstice celebration, not because we are particularly spiritual or close to nature but because all our birthdays are in Autumn/Winter so the celebrations are always indoor affairs. I used to gaze wistfully at the families having parties in the park, with cake and balloons and think 'that looks like fun'. The lockdown situation has forced our hands - let's really do it this year, we said, let's mark Midsummer's Eve in some way.

We didn’t have cake or balloons. (The Old Man had made a cake but it wasn’t ready in time). But we did have Prosecco and Pimms and strawberries and posh crisps and samosas and some homemade fish cakes, the recipe having been passed down along the generations in my family. The fish cakes are even spherical so, at a stretch, could be said to be representative of the sun. 

Rustic cooking

It was one set of friends’ wedding anniversary that weekend so it felt like a double celebration. Our bladders held out admirably (the public toilets being closed), a good time was had by all and a bunny rabbit scampered away in the distance! 


When we got home we exchanged our main presents - something we had decided would be a part of our personal Solstice celebration. The kids were very pleased with their Harry Potter Lego and the Old Man was happy with his new bread knife and I was over the moon with my bound set of Jane Austen novels!

But Solstice isn’t just about the presents - the best thing about it was being able to meet up with friends and have a chat and share our food and relax a bit. Of course we talked about the situation but we also talked about many other things. And for once the kids didn’t moan about being dragged out for a walk because their friends were at the end of it!

Oh - we didn't watch the sunset because you can't really see it from our flat but we are going to be fine tuning this celebration so we'll definitely make a point of watching it next year.