A Day to Remember

To be honest, I had not intended to write about my birthday celebrations on Saturday, but the day turned out so beautifully that I wanted to make a record of it here. After days of preparation, we were ready to welcome our guests. The dining room table was laden with afternoon tea goodies (to which my friends added even more) and the garden was arranged to be as sociable as possible.

All is quiet Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Perfect weather

After all the changeable and quite frankly wet weather we have had recently, I was being rather optimistic about having a garden party. But the gods were smiling upon us and the day proved to be positively Mediterranean.

Soon seats and glasses were filled. We managed to build our appetites with conversation before loading our plates with sweets and savouries of every kind.

Since many friends brought delicious treats they had made themselves, I could offer a variety that went well beyond my abilities. It also removed a great deal of the pressure. If my scones didn’t rise or the cake got burnt, I would at least have something else to offer.

Entertainments

With such a range of guests of varying ages, who did not all know one another, we thought it wise to employ some activities to encourage mingling.

The most successful was our crazy croquet. Much as we love Hermione, she has done nothing for our lawn, which, in the politest description is a trifle uneven. Croquet, of course, should be played on a billiard table smooth surface, but we do like a challenge.

Jeff had set up a very easy route, but between evading the dog who thinks all balls ought to be chased, and overcoming clumps and bumps in the grass, it took some skill (and a little cheating) to get around.

My niece and nephew (far right) were completely unperturbed by the obstacles and had won before Clare and I had reached half way. Ah well, youth was on their side.

How well do you know your country?

After thirty odd years of living in the UK, my husband has finally decided to apply for citizenship. Of course, now it is a little more difficult and requires learning all about the country (and I mean all about the country.)

The test Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Our parties always include a quiz and here we had one ready made. The questions are seriously hard and I’m not entirely sure that everyone there would have passed on their own. Ironically, the winning team contained a German and a Ukrainian. Though they did have one very clever Brit!

Not wanting the day to end

Eventually, it was time for everyone to go and we said our prolonged goodbyes and tidied up the chaos.

But we were not really ready for the day to end. On Friday, Sussex had been blessed with an amazing display of the Northern Lights, which we had failed to note, being otherwise distracted.

Since the Northern Lights have been on my bucket list for decades, I was not willing to miss the chance of seeing them again. So I prepared to stay up waaay past my bedtime.

As the evening was balmy, my husband lit the chimenea and we waited for darkness to fall. The fire launched itself into the dimming night, sparks twirling like fireflies.

Then, just as the final light was fading, the bats wooshed past, flapping their wings at great speed. They looked otherworldly in the purple dusk.

The stars at night

When the sky was silky black, we set off for Beachy Head, thinking it an ideal spot with dark skies. Alas, everyone else had had the same idea and we were caught in a traffic jam!

Undeterred, we turned around and headed for the churchyard of a quiet village. Perfect. We set up our blanket in the grounds of the Medieval church, wrapped ourselves up in our DryRobes and lay back to watch the show.

The night sky Image: Klemen Vrankar on Unsplash

Since the sky was clear, the stars were brilliant. In this dark space, I was able to see constellations that I seldom observe in the town. Jeff even saw a shooting star and I hope that he made a good wish.

It was truly magical and though the Northern Lights decided not to appear, I was still very happy to have spent an hour in the company of stars.

In so many ways, the day was remarkable. I doubt that every birthday will be quite so special, but I have this one to treasure.

Mazel tov!

When your child gets married, it is a very special day. When your child gets married to someone from another faith, it gives the occasion another dimension. For us, this meant a fresh perspective on what marriage means and the privilege of taking part in a whole new experience.

My son Greg’s new wife, Genevieve, is Jewish. She is not especially orthodox and her parents were also mixed faiths (Christian and Jewish), but she wished to honour her mother’s heritage in the rituals. To help us better understand what to expect, she kindly suggested a book I should read. I’m glad I did. It made the experience less baffling and more beautiful.

A beginner’s guide! Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The Jewish wedding

The Jewish wedding, like its Christian counterpart, is about the joining of two people into a family bond. And in each faith, this bond is part of a larger community in which it offers hope for the future. Perhaps this is in the form of children or perhaps a commitment – as Greg and Genevieve made in their vows- to play their part in making the world a little gentler and kinder place.

Unlike in a Christian wedding, the legal part of the signing and witnessing of the marriage comes first. Under Judaic law, a couple is married when they freely pledge themselves to each other and are witnessed by two individuals who are not related to them.

Signing the ketubah Image: Melissa Gerbert

Only immediate family, witnesses and the rabbi were present for this event. The parents gave their blessings, the rabbi gave a brief and beautiful speech, and the ketubah (Jewish wedding contract) was signed.

The ketubah

When I was married, we were escorted to the rear of the church to sign the register, which would remain in the building, as a record, in perpetuity. In contrast, the ketubah is kept, and often framed, by the married couple. It could take any form, but is usually an exquisitely illustrated piece of calligraphy.

The main event

The business element of the marriage over, it was time for the ceremony proper. I was delighted to discover that the parents of both the bride and groom had a role to play. We were to walk Greg down the ‘aisle’, which here was the path between the seats in a perfect, woodland setting.

I think Greg gripped my hand as tightly as I did his – partly to assuage our nerves and partly to avoid his mother tripping on the uneven grass.

The chuppah

Our destination was not the altar but the chuppah (pronounced hoopah). This canopied space is built by the groom. (I was very impressed with my son’s carpentry skills.) It symbolises the marriage home with God (the cloth) sheltering them above. Being fully accessible, it promises hospitality to all those who visit.

It is a fragile structure though, and the parents and family who stand beside it are seen as those who will support the home in future.

But I get ahead of myself.

Before the wedding ceremony, there came the ring bearer and the flower girl. The ring bearer was Greg and Genevieve’s very well behaved dog and the flower girl my granddaughter. Both performed their duties flawlessly and elicited a huge round of applause!

Two little stars – Moose and Sofia Image: Michael Meier

But they could not outdo the beauty of Greg’s bride, who arrived on her father’s arm and we were ready to begin.

Genevieve and a very proud father Image: Melissa Gebert

The service

When Genevieve asked my husband what was the best part of the whole wedding festivities, he said without hesitation, the service itself. I could not but agree. The rabbi, Tyler, was so perfect and attuned to the couple that it was a very moving event.

As is common in Jewish weddings, it is recognised that not everyone can attend. Loved ones who died before the ceremony are acknowledged and remembered. With Genevieve’s loss of her mother being so recent, Tyler made every effort for her to be remembered on her daughter’s very special day. I confess, it did lead to quite a lot of eye wiping. By including Laurie, rather than politely ignoring her absence, we were all able to welcome her in spirit.

Vows and blessings Image: Melissa Gebert

Joy in sadness/sadness in joy

More often than not, weddings focus on some unrealistic, perfect future. Life is never perfect and suggesting that it should be only results in disappointment. The Christian vows remind us of this when we promise to love and cherish each other through all of life’s vicissitudes – ‘For better, for worse; for richer for poorer; in sickness and in health’.

Tyler spoke of how life is often expressed as an oxymoron – with contradictory emotions often experienced simultaneously. Even in grief, we can feel joy.

The Jewish story is hardly a happy one, filled as it is with persecution and diasporas, yet joy is seldom far from a Jewish gathering. The breaking of the glass at the end of the ceremony symbolises this. The broken glass represents the broken world, which marriage and joyful union hope, in their own small way, to heal.

Mazel tov!

The breaking of the glass signals the end of the ceremony and everyone shouts ‘Mazel tov’ or congratulations to the newly wedded couple.

The breaking of the glass Image: Melissa Gebert

The serious work over, it was time for feasting and dancing. Greg and Genevieve were given a brief respite before the dinner to reflect on the ceremony and perhaps even grab some refreshment. I love that this pause is given to the bride and groom on what is otherwise a whirlwind of a day.

Friends, family, and feasting

Let’s just say, with an open bar, delicious canapes and food, the next part of the day passed very happily. We caught up with friends and family – many who had come a very long way to celebrate with us.

The speeches were well-structured and witty and I was especially proud of my younger son, who managed to combine some gentle British style humour without shocking the American guests. (Outrageous best man speeches are a purely British invention.)

The Best Man’s speech drew some laughter Image: Melissa Gebert

Time to dance

The meal over and the cake cut, it was time to dance. Genevieve’s father and she began and Greg and I followed. After then is was everyone. I’ve never seen a dance floor fill so quickly and remain full throughout the evening.

Of course, no Jewish wedding would be complete without the hora. The young ones danced in circles whilst the bride and groom were hoisted into the air on their chairs. It might have been more enjoyable had I not feared either of them taking a tumble. But all was well.

Just holding on! Image: Melissa Gebert

Finally, exhausted, we headed home, leaving the younger ones to enjoy the remains of the evening.

It had been a perfect day and I truly hope only the first of many for my son and daughter-in-law.

The Marvellous Month of May

I love the spring, but it takes till May to get into full swing. And then what a spectacle it provides: frothy blossoms in every shade of pink; the haze of bluebells in the woods, and at last skies unencumbered by charcoal clouds.

It is the month we put away our heavy sweaters and take out our summer clothes, so unfamiliar now, they feel like new.

The lawn experiences its first haircut (or not if you are observing no-mow May) and a sense of joyful anticipation is born. If ever there were a month made for celebrations, this is it.

The darling buds of May

As May begins, my garden becomes a Monet dream: filled with undefined masses of soft colour. Fruit trees erupt into every shade of pink from almost white to a deep magenta. This year, they are especially lush, since the continuous drizzly rain has nourished the trees.

These blossoms, so pretty to observe, also hold the promise of a good harvest – each bloom the base of a fruit. So far, we have been spared the ‘rough winds’ which often terminate these fruits before they form. My ancient cooking apple tree is the last to blossom. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the days will remain balmy or at least gale free.

Walking on sunshine

This year, in rather uncharacteristic fashion, our bank holiday was enjoyed with clear blues skies. Time, at last, to tackle the garden.

Blink and my garden fills with sticky willy (goose grass), bindweed and a tiny blue, forget-me-not type flower. The bind weed is the worst, slithering its way under the soil to pop up again metres away. It also has an unfortunate habit of strangling things.

I don’t have the energy to work in the garden for long (about 20 minutes is my limit), so I’m taking the little and often approach. It’s taken me three days, but I’ve cleared three rows in the vegetable patch and sown seeds in each.

When I’m tired, I work in the potting shed. Filling containers with compost and planting with seeds is workable even for me and some are already giving rewards for my efforts.

Tiny beginnings Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

My mini sunflowers are looking happy and the cheap dried peas I sowed are now delightful pea sprouts ready for eating. My corn is progressing and so too my salad leaves. Today I need to plant my celeriac and beans to give them a chance to grow sufficiently hardy to put up some defences against the ubiquitous snails.

In the veg patch there is purple sprouting broccoli, some rainbow chard that self seeded, celery from old celery sticks and an abundance of herbs. It isn’t much and would hardly fill an empty stomach, but is it something.

For our ancestors, such bounty would have been a true blessing, for April is the starving month. Winter supplies are almost gone and the first greens only just appearing. Is it any wonder that the 1st of May has been celebrated since Roman times? For it gives the promise of life.

May Day traditions

As a little girl, in Junior school, I remember learning to dance around the Maypole. It was fairly hilarious and nothing as fine as the one below. We had no floral crowns nor white dresses – just the dull uniform of grey and green. Nor did we have a May king and queen. Yet, as below, I believe the boys were excluded from the dancing.

Dancing around the Maypole with flowers in their hair
Image: Social History Archive on Unsplash

The tangling of ribbons and the intricacies of steps to avoid such a fate were all we focused on. The unsubtly phallic symbolism of the pole passed us by, as did the ancient beliefs from which it sprang. For the dance, like most May celebrations, centred around love, fertility and ensuing new life.

To ‘Go a-Maying’ was to set off in the evening (preferably with a romantic partner) to gather flowers and the branches of the newly blossoming hawthorn, whose common name is May. One returned at sunrise to decorate the home – no doubt at little tousled.

The Puritans, despisers of all things fun, attempted to squash the pagan and overtly sexual May celebrations, but succeeded only for the time that they were in power. Such irrepressible joy could not be dampened for long.

All across the Northern hemisphere, May is celebrated as an end to the austerity imposed by a brief growing season. Activities range from dancing to jumping fires; rolling cheeses to eating special foods – but each acknowledges that winter is truly passed and abundance about to begin.

Interestingly, May 1 is also International Worker’s Day celebrating the reduction of the working day from sixteen to eight hours: offering a new life to those caught in the chilly clutches of an industrial age.

Party, party, party!

This month is an especially happy one for me. Not only is it my birthday month but also for many friends and relatives – even the dog’s! And, of course, birthdays require gatherings, Prosecco and cake – lots of cake.

Birthday treats Image: Robert Anderson on Unsplash

Our birthday commemorates our birth, yes, but it also looks forward. When we wish someone ‘Many happy returns’ we are saying that we hope their birthday celebrations will return next year and thereafter. Like May itself, the colourful birthday of the natural world, we look forward to it returning again next year.

And whatever you are doing this month, I hope you will find time to celebrate in your own way May’s promise of good times ahead.

Blue and pink Spanish bluebells Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Celebrate Good Times!

This week finds me in a celebratory mood. It was my birthday on Monday and my head is still fizzing with the energy and pleasure of the day. Blessed with azure skies, radiant sunshine and warm temperatures, my friends were able to join me in the garden for Prosecco and cake.

Thinking about the joy this party brought made me ponder the role of celebration in our lives. After a trawl through the cybersphere, I found what I was looking for: proof that celebrations offer more than an opportunity to indulge and socialise. Celebrations provide a chance to engage with others, often across generations; they dramatically improve our sense of well-being and focus our attention on gratitude over indifference.

Lots of smiling faces Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Need to reduce stress and anxiety? Join a celebration

Hosting a party invariably increases stress, at least in the preparatory stages, but I can’t say that it has ever put me off having more. The pay-off far outweighs the efforts made and if you are lucky enough to be invited to one – even better!

Parties are, to put it in the simplest of terms, good for you. And the science backs this up. While we engage in socialising, our bodies are releasing a cascade of happy chemicals, enhancing our mood. These are: ‘Oxytocin, which is associated with bonding and happiness and is released when you’re around other people; noradrenaline, which skyrockets when you socialize and makes you feel energized and happy; and endorphins, feel-good chemicals that are released when you laugh, dance, and have a drink or two.’ (Dr R Froemke Shape.com)

Raise a glass Image: Amy Shamblen on Unsplash

Further, those celebrations that are part of our national, religious or personal calendar have a soothing effect on our psyche since at most rituals we know what to do and that is, in itself, consoling. Tricia Lavasseur explains that, ‘Laboratory experiments and field studies show that the structured and repetitive actions involved in holiday rituals can act as a buffer against anxiety by making our world a more predictable place.

When Skyping my four-year old granddaughter in the States, she had no difficulty in singing Happy Birthday to her Nana. As she grows, she will have endless opportunities to repeat that rendition and doing so will serve in giving her a tiny anchor of predictability in an unpredictable world.

That time of year again?

I always find it a bit hilarious when folks remark that Christmas has taken them by surprise. After all, it’s the same date every year. And like so many festivals, that is a part of its charm.

Our years are punctuated with such celebrations and there is a great deal of reassurance in that. We are marking, almost like a clock face, the turning of the year and with that acknowledgment (consciously or not) the ever changing and ever returning circle of life.

These fixed festivals give us the joy of anticipation, the pleasure of the day itself and out of the ordinary events upon which to hang the pictures of memory.

Let them eat cake

And festivals seem designed to be remembered. They are replete with sensory experience: physical contact, music, special food and drink, decorations and clothing. All of these help our brains lodge the event in our minds.

The last slice! Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Better still, each time we repeat these pleasurable experiences, our memories are triggered to previous ones and our joy is intensified.

Re-Connecting

This year’s party felt especially precious after two long years of celebratory desert. It is wonderful to reconnect with friends again and the calendar has been pretty full of such reunions of late. As a result, I feel more energised and more cheerful than I have in a long time. If I need to rest the day after a party, so be it. But I would not miss it for the world.

And this kind of lift has quite far reaching effects, boosting our mental energy and making us better at decision making and coping with difficulty. (Dr Madeleine, thevidaconsultancy.com)

A chance to show you care and get creative

Celebrations are a perfect opportunity to show that you care. It is not the cost of the gift that counts, however, but the degree to which the giver has considered your particular interests. Mine were full of flowers and books and journals, vegan treats and gardening gifts.

Radiant tulips Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Realising that people know you is a boost in itself. We all want that. While expensive, generic gifts may be what the shops want you to buy, it is the personal ones that are treasured.

Some used the occasion to bring their creativity to the fore with wonderful cards or brownies baked for my guests. Saving your host time in the kitchen is especially thoughtful. (My husband made the cake and sacrificed half his day off to waitering and washing dishes.) With the cost of living rising at a startling rate, we would be wise to remember that showing our affection need not cost us more than we can afford.

Tiny celebrations

Don’t have a date in the diary for a celebration? Don’t despair. Research shows that a tiny party of just four guests can be perfect too. Ask the neighbours round for a coffee or glass of something. Make it easy, so that they can return the favour and you can repeat the experience. Lock-down limitations have shown that an enjoyable event does not need to be an extravagant, highly populated one.

Make celebrations part of your day. My students are deep in revision for GCSEs at the moment and I’ve reminded them to fit little breaks into their schedule to reward themselves and celebrate learning what they have.

Personally, I love marking my day with micro parties for one. Taking time to make a proper mug of chai or coffee elevates the moment into something more than a refreshment break. Get out the good china, if you have it. A little self-care might well lift your mood enough to get you through those chores with a smile.

Chai and biscuits. Just because it’s three o’clock. Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Getting in the mood

If none of the above has awakened your inner party animal, I have one last gambit. Music, above all, has a wonderful way of putting us in the mood. Just think of all the family weddings you have attended where suddenly the dance-floor is flooded because the DJ has selected exactly the right tune. It’s probably corny and almost definitely old, but it triggers within us memories of more carefree times. So, all you 1970’s disco divas, this one’s for you.

Yes, the old ones are the best.