As Daughter and I attack the last load of fancy china and put away the rarely used silver serving spoons, I reflect on the privilege of being able to host a Women’s Christmas (aka Nollaig na Mban – written about previously in this list of posts) for the first time here in Newfoundland in my magical home by the sea. The oldest today was 87 and the youngest was 5. Apart from Daughter and Niece, the rest of the friends here were all relatively new to my life in chronology but long in shared tribal origins and in making room in each other’s hearts relatively late in life for new friendships. Living proof that it can be done.
There were 13 of us - never an unlucky number I say - in total, a bit of a squeeze around the long harvest table but we managed. We sipped from delicate china cups and ate many courses, salads, fruits, my Famous Strata, perogies, sausages, blueberry cobbler (I froze blueberries picked from the Barrens in September), Irish biscuits and cheeses, raisin scones, treacle scones and Irish soda bread with organic butter.
Great chat was generated, as only a gathering of disparate women can do, it was interesting watching the youngest and the eldest there bond so tightly even though they had not met before. So much in common, I would think!
I feel so blessed and so honoured that my home can be the scene of such warmth and camaraderie.
Thank you, to the spirits of Granny and Mum and my nine blood aunts for showing me the way!
