Guest Blogger - Merry Christmas from the Squire

At this very special time of the year, ones thoughts turn very much to ones family and friends. One considers ones family, the near and the dear, the far away and the not so dear. One thinks of friends, many of whom are no longer with us, others one is not allowed to socialise with any more because ones wife has decided they are a ‘bad influence’. One thinks of those who want to be near us at Christmas and one thinks; pull up the drawbridge and hide until New Year.

Because if Christmas is a time for anything, it’s a time for copious amounts of alcohol. And traditions. And one of the grand traditions if one resides a home that has enough room to put up a guest, is how to avoid having guests at all costs.

When one resides in, say, a Highland cottage this might be achievable, especially as the current climate means that the roads should be open again some time in May, but when one resides in a large country house things become a great deal trickier. Traditionally, the prelude to somebody inviting themselves begins in early November, when they attempt to show what jolly good fun they are by breathing gin fumes onto the bonfire to turn the flames blue. Innocent questions along the lines of ‘are you ski-ing over Christmas? Or ‘Will you be in Australia for the Ashes?’ or even ‘have you ordered several crates of port yet?’ really mean ‘can I come and stay with you for at least a month and eat all your stilton?’.

Deflecting house guests is part art, part science. Obviously one can cite germs. While he days of scarlet fever, the plague or measles are long behind us, thanks to media hysteria one can put the name of any animal before the term ‘flu’ with total credibility. ‘Bird’. ‘Dog’ and ‘Man’ have all been used with real success. But there’s always some bugger who’s had vaccinations or who thinks they are immune, so one has to be prepared to permanently damage the family name to get some peace and quiet. Current favourites are to make the home a no-go area by hinting that one has a daughter who is associated with a member of a terrorist cell, or who has married somebody who is from quite the wrong set, or foreign.

However, one is expected to do one’s bit when it comes entertaining and, somehow or other, one inevitably has to put up with some house guests at Christmas. The thing to do is to try and enjoy oneself by making the most of traditions. I always enjoy the tradition of hiding all the televisions and pretending that there is no reception, as this rather thins out those who really want to stay for the whole period.

Establishing a real country house atmosphere for Christmas is, of course, a fine art. It requires one to do more than turn down the heating and cheat in an outrageous manner at board games. Nothing marks Christmas quite like a ghost story and I only consider my tales a success if the listener is in therapy for some months afterwards. It’s particularly satisfying if one can weave a tale about the guest room that somebody is staying in.

Games and ghost stories are all very well but Christmas is, as we all know, really a time for young people, as they creep from room to room in the dead of night in order to make their own entertainment. Of course, not having any lights on at night only adds to the excitement, as one really has to make sure that one has the right room before entering. Many a happy relationship has, I am sure, started with the knock at the wrong door and a delighted surprise. Indeed I know two fellas who run an antique shop in the village who met just like that.

Indeed when it comes to the best way to enjoy Christmas, I consider it’s best to hole up in the study with some cold cuts, a crate of scotch, some back numbers of ‘Gentleman and Player’ and a half kilo of Moroccan gold an old school chum is kind enough to send every year.

Merry Christmas!