Merry Christmas from Iford

The crib scene at Iford this year was 'housed' in a gnarled piece of a yew tree's roots which had to be dug up this year.

Happy Christmas from everyone at Iford!

And there were in the same country...

...shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night.  Or so the story goes.

A recent arrival to the Iford nativity scene came courtesy of our very kind Bavarian cousins; on a recent visit to the Christmas market in Salzburg, and recalling our small collection of traditional, carved wooden figures, they rang up enquiring whether or not there was a pressing need for any characters from the story.  After a little thought, it was considered that the arrival of a shepherd might complement the ox and ass already assembled in the scene, awaiting the arrival of the key protagonists.  And so it was that a parcel arrived in the post a few days ago containing a small flock of beautifully carved sheep, along with their shepherd (to join the sheepdog which for a number of years had been keeping the ox and ass in line).

You might also wonder what the "stable" is formed from - it is in fact a piece of ivy, stripped of its bark, and sand-papered to give a very smooth finish akin to ivory.  Ivy forms the most wonderful shapes, often joining back on itself as it winds around a tree trunk or stump.  In a separate post I'll put up some images of other ivy creations from cuts taken off trees on the estate - anyone can make them (you just need to find some interesting ivy - ask the owner first though!) and they are wonderfully organic, tactile and engaging pieces when finished.

Arboreal de-decoration supervisor

A few days ago, when removing the decorations from our Christmas tree on twelfth night, our matriarchal cat Lily (who had 'supervised' with interest the tree's decoration two weeks previously) was once again on site to make sure that we performed the task to her satisfaction. Each bauble was inspected as it came off the tree, and was placed back in its box, and on occasion she would lean through the banisters, as if trying to join in more proactively.

It was only once the tree was fully denuded and we had retired for a cup of tea (quite late by this point), that she began looking at it wistfully, walking up and down the stairs taking in its grey-green nakedness.  A little calling ensued, and being a talkative sort she came to 'tell us all about it' (as cats do).  She has been extremely dismissive of me since, and I get the distinct impression that she feels strongly that no sooner had she organised for her beautiful tree to be erected by us, it had been dismantled again and now look how boring the stairwell looks...

And so in honour of Lily's prima-donna attitude to life, here's a photographic example of her showing off to the camera.