Well I have had a whale of a time looking up Pendelfin rabbits. They were started by 2 ladies who lived in the shadow of Pendle mountain in Lancashire.A place famed for the Pendle witches.
I cannot see some of the very old pieces my mother has, but I did find three. Rosa rabbit,Uncle Soames and the twins. My personal favourite is of a baby rabbit asleep in bed sucking its thumb. My father bought it for her to mark my birth. My mum must have over 50 of the pieces and I was flabbergasted to see that the rare early ones she has most of, fetch up to 300 pounds !!!
Sorry I can't post pics of them as they are thousands of miles away in my parents cabinet.I will post pics of the wonderful hand painted ornaments my kids have made for me over the years. Along with the jewellery they used to buy me from fairs, with their own pocket money. All of which I wore so as not to hurt anyones feelings.
In reminiscing back over so many years, I was reminded of the greatest loss I encountered when we moved here. We arrived in Sarasota, via NYC on Dec.31st 2005. It was therefore nearly a full year before we had our first Xmas here. I was brimming over with unconcealed excitement as the Americans are so gloriously OTT in their unfettered celebration and decoration at Xmas. I was in my element.
For as long as I can remember Xmas has always been my favourite time of year. I loved it when I was growing up, helping my mum make the Xmas cake and pudding, hiding the sixpence in the pudding batter and the glorious smells which infused the whole house. Then there was the baking and eating of the first mince pies, hot from the oven and bursting with fruit and spices. It was a tradition in our house that you made a wish with your first bite.
Then the argument as dad tried to make the tree lights work, followed by mum and me, pouring a glass of mulled wine and settling down to decorate the tree.My mother's excitement and love stemmed from the fact that she had been orphaned in WW2 and then spent 5 years in an orphanage. Prior to that though, her father who was the village doctor, usually got to spend a whole day with his wife and daughter.The villagers for the most part,managing to refrain from being ill for that one day.So it was one of the very few times my mum got to spend with both her parents.
This excitement she transferred on to me and I was hooked. We would start to giggle as the mulled wine did its work and the end result was a haphazard but glorious riot of decorations on the tree. No designer looks for us. She had some very old and curious decorations which had belonged to her parents and were some of the few things she managed to keep. There was a clown, pierrot, very strange Santa and a tree. There were also some incredible Chinese lantern lights.
No matter how many new baubles joined the party, the old ones were never forgotten. When I married and left home, my mother came round as my first Xmas as a wife approached and handed me her parents decorations. Oh this is making me cry. We both went into my tiny kitchen and started on the mince pies and as we were feeling sophisticated opened a glorious bottle of red that she had " borrowed" from my father's cellar.
Nothing had changed really, it was more a handing over of the baton to the new guard. The same smells drifted out from my kitchen and we started the tree. This continued for many years until my mother became chronically ill and irascible with it. My father took over the tree duty at their house and I did my own. Later as the children arrived they all joined in.I still had my red wine and they had hot Ribena. (blackcurrant juice)
Over the years the Xmas decorations became increasingly more eclectic as the kids added on their school made, snowflakes,Santa's and all manner of baubles. When we moved to a larger house we started to have 2 trees. One in the family room with all the colourful and raffish decorations and one in the sitting room which was very designer, all gold and white. I was I now realise, becoming a little pretentious.
Fast forward and we are about to have our first American Xmas. I could revel in any decorations I wanted, the more gaudy and colourful the better. Americans know how do unashamedly go full throttle into every aspect of the holiday. So as in England, the mince pies went into the oven and the alcohol came out. Now it was champagne and cranberry juice, as red wine had started to give me migraines. (a terrible loss)
No problems with lights, they were all brand new.On they went followed by the tinsel and a whole collection of baubles. The tree as usual was a riot of colour, but there was something niggling away at the back of my mind. Bingo, where were my mums decorations and where were the those made over the years by the kids. With all haste, Nigel was dispatched to the attic to find the missing box, there was none. Of all the things that the shipping company could have lost, I felt the blow of that box most. There was no way to replace any of the items and as it dawned on me that I could never tell my mother what had happened, it also slowly permeated through, that I would not be able to follow on the tradition by handing the baubles down to my own daughter.
So the decorating of the tree has now become a bittersweet thing for me. I have added whole Victorian villages, lights galore, inflatables in the garden, you name it we have it. What I no longer have are my mother's items, or the glittery snowflake made by James, the cotton wool snowman Matt made.The salt dough lantern courtesy of Emma.
I do I realise as I write this, still have my wonderful memories. We have started our own collection here.We buy a new china ornament with our names and the year, every Xmas and they will eventually be handed down to Emma. So my favourite things may only be memories now, but I am creating future memories for my own children. There is a form of continuity after all.Both Matt and Emma love to do the tree with me and although they will not eat a full mince pie, they do have one bite each to make a wish.
I no longer make Xmas pudding, instead my parents send me one, which I open and insert a dime, just as my mum used to put in, sixpence. One day I may even get used to taking a swim after Xmas lunch, instead of a long walk through the countryside.!!
I hope most of all, that in the future, my kids will look back and recall how much they loved Xmas and start to make their own traditions as well as continuing the old ones.