Solstice

I don't know who Sod is but his law is a right bugger. It dictates that if something can go wrong it will, but why did he have to cause everything to malfunction today? It began with the Christmas tree whose erection is generally very simple thanks to the purposely-designed pot I acquired a few years ago. Stick the tree in, turn the three equidistant screw mechanisms to their full extent, and then decorate it. But the trunk was too skinny, and I couldn't get all the screws to fit into their slots. After a couple of hours I decided to have a change of scenery, and set about another necessary task, that of cleaning the masses of mud that has accumulated on the patio by the back door. I duly put on my waterproof trousers, a cagoul and the enormous wellies left by a recent visitor, and went outside. I love this job. I attached the power house and the water supply and switched on. Nothing. There was no water coming out of the patio tap. Undaunted, I hauled up the hose from the end terrace and attached that instead. Still nothing. Clearly the charming plumber who fitted my kitchen worktops has turned the outdoor supply off, but hunt as I would I could not find the problem. So I ended up bringing buckets of water out of the kitchen and brushing the muck away. By the time I finished I felt as if I'd spent a day in a coal mine, exhausted and mud spattered.

It's the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. Living in a rural place, this feels very real. If I hadn't been involved in such frenzied activity today I would have spent some time sitting in contemplation by a window with a long view. One of my favourite pleasures is thinking about who might have lived in my house, and in this village, what their lives might have been like. And what they might have been doing in the depths of winter, on this very day. A document I found lists the occupations of villagers at various times from 1500 to 1912:

1 husbandman

1 yeoman, 1 glover

9 yeomen, 2 linen weavers, 1 weaver

5 yeomen, 1 cooper, 1 clerk,

2 spinsters

62 in agriculture, 11 in retail trade, 9 in domestic service

Shoemaker, 2 blacksmiths, 2 wheelwrights, schoolmaster, joiner/shopkeeper, corn miller, 9 farmers

Sub-postmaster, school teacher, carpenter/wheelwright,blacksmith, 5 farmers, 2 farm bailiffs, shopkeeper, carrier, poultry dealer, thatcher, bootmaker

The mind goes into overdrive. How did the 62 agricultural workers and the farmers deal with the mud on their boots and clothes when they came home from work every evening? How did they dry their wet work things? Did they let their dogs run in and out of the house when weather conditions were bad, or like me did they curse as they washed muddy feet and undercarriages after every outing? Were they warm? Or were they always cold? I hope not. And during this, the longest evening, all those years ago I hope they had candles and firewood and could take advantage of the extra few minutes away from work to rest and replenish their spirits.