Tower and Town, April 2024 (view the full edition)Christmas at IlmingtonHandsome and imposing, the golden-brick Georgian rectory stands at the end of a long, winding gravel drive. The gardens are the kind you can get lost in. There are willow trees weeping in the shadows, antique metal gazebos, a well, a Victorian greenhouse, and a walled vegetable garden that looks formal and wild simultaneously. In winter the oak trees that stand majestically in the field to the front of the house are bare of their leaves, but that winter what was most memorable was a light dusting of snow that decorated the branches, as well as every inch of English soil in sight. As I closed the heavy front door, I left my winter wonderworld outside and entered an eclectic and eccentric Christmas scene. Warm aromas from the kitchen welcomed me - the scent of ripe satsumas, cinnamon-infused spicy mulled wine and homemade mince pies waiting patiently on top of the bottle green Aga. Granny had been waving magic all afternoon. From quilted Italian placemats and glass vases of crazy red flowers to a dozen candles glowing: everything had its place. The walls were as busy as the table, covered in open wooden shelving family photos, flying duck ceramics pottery picked up from travels all over the world and an abundance of Christmas decorations. With her hair pinned back and her apron tied firmly around her waist, she was buzzing about the kitchen, opening and closing cupboard and fridge doors, rearranging pots and pans and seamlessly timing the creation of one of her famed feasts. In the corner of the kitchen, the Christmas tree loomed over the chaotic scene with pride. It was bedecked in red ribbons and fairy lights with a mountain of presents beneath it. Tempted, I picked up a particularly enticing package. It was wrapped in silver paper with a thick ribbon holding a card - but not with my name on it. Reluctantly I placed it back on the pile. The air was heavy with the anticipation of Christmas Day. Thankfully, that very second Granny called out that supper was finally ready. Everyone was chattering and laughing over the sound of familiar festive music. The gravy tasted like caramel. There were six different types of vegetables. Roast thyme and rosemary flavoured lamb took the stage. And there were at least four puddings. The pop of crackers filled the room. As the meal drew to an end, I cupped my hand around the last of the candles and blew out the flame of Christmas Eve. Millie E |