23 Dec. 2025

At the WI Christmas party last week, I'd gotten a tip that the best charity shops in the area were to be found in Alderly Edge, about 45 minutes south of Didsbury. Alderly Edge was a very charming little village but every few minutes the air would be punctured by the incongruous sound of a souped-up car aggressively revving. We had a modest haul, although I was sad to see that one of the four charity shops in town was shut for the day. The lady at the "Scandinavian Lifestyle" store told my mom that there was an illegal car meet somewhere in town that would go on until the cops came, and that all the store owners hate them because people don't like going out when they happen, and if they are the reason that the last charity shop had closed then I join them in their opprobrium. She also told my mom the larger sizes are piling up in the store because "Everyone's on the skinny pill."

People keep telling us we simply MUST go to the Peak District. A chatty man in the train station told us about a spot where the cover of a Verve album was shot.

22 Dec. 2025

Thursday

I had to go to the London office so my mom came down for the day with me. After I was done with work we went to Fortnum and Mason. It was packed so we got through tea, produce, and cheese, but didn't make it up to the floor where they have the luxury hampers.

Next time I'm getting a marzipan mushroom.

The Harrod's food hall had about the same amount of crowds, but while I'd happily never set foot in Harrod's again, I think I'll go back to F&M when the seasonal hubbub dies down. It was bright and cheery and you didn't feel like you'd been shunted off into a basement for the only department where the proles can actually afford to buy something. By now I've pretty much stopped mentally converting all prices from pounds to dollars, and I think if you can manage that, their products are a decent value. I got a jar of Stilton with madeira and a box of their extra-smokey Earl Grey blend for T. Dinner at Brasserie Zedel which was very festive with lots of groups exchanging gifts at nearby tables, and felt preserved in amber. We were slightly late and sternly told that we only had the table booked until 7!!

T went to the kids' school carol service. I looked at the program, and they made ten year olds try to huff out "Sleigh Ride" on woodwinds? Lord. For once, an event that prompted no FOMO.

Wednesday

Christmas Jumper day at school and the kids got a special lunch with tablecloths in the cafeteria. N said it was turkey "with an EXCELLENT sauce". Crossing Guard Santa also stopped by with chocolates.

Sunday

I am starting to appreciate the fact that the Christmas season in the US is somewhat fenced in by Thanksgiving, because man could you get Christmassed out here. Today was Christmas crafts and a showing of The Snowman and Snowdog accompanied by the Royal Northern College of Music student orchestra. N told Santa (excuse me, Father Christmas) that he wanted a Play Station. Likely to be disappointed. There was a workshop with an illustrator who showed us how to draw a Christmas pudding with arms and legs. I am still figuring out this pudding business. I had one from the supermarket that I found really waxy and unpleasant, only to found out later that I should have cooked it first.

Saturday

A performance of the Shaun the Sheep Circus. I'm always trying to push Shaun the Sheep on the kids, a. because of the gentle wit and craftsmanship of the claymation and b. there is no dialogue or loud music so very easy to tune out. In this live rendition, acrobats dressed as sheep did flips and pyramids in a series of vignettes from the show. The first half was moderately entertaining, and the second half (see: no dialogue or loud music) offered an opportunity for a brief nap to a weary parent. Afterwards we had dinner at Pizza Pilgrim, a chain that serves decent pizza in flair-heavy surroundings (the bar is a deconstructed Fiat). It was not the type of place where I would have expected to need a reservation if we were in Boston, but it turns out there is no type of place in England where you are not met with pursed lips and frowning at a tablet if you say you haven't made a booking. We were told that they could squeeze us in without a reservation but only if we promised to be done by 6!

Friday

Women's Institute Christmas Party. It was in the function room at a health club and you could see people splashing around in the pool while we had our appetizers. At the bar, the woman in front of me asked where their white wines come from. "Anything from New Zealand?" It did not appear to be a question the staff at the health club bar (a phrase that no longer seems incongruous to me after a few months here) were prepared for. They studied the labels. "Chile?" "Oh no!" the woman said. She turned to me and said "If it's from Chile, it gives me wind!". Instead she had a G&T "with three cubes of ice."

Dec. 12 2025

If you are an American of a certain age in Britain during the holidays, you might be viewing the surroundings through a red sparkly haze of mania called Love, Actually.  I do not have anything to add to the L,A conversation and consider Bobby Finger's writeups in The Hairpin to be the definitive word on the subject. It's just futile to deny its imprint. At minimum, every holiday outfit I have worn in the last twenty years has been measured in my mind against Natalie's ruby red sweater-black pencil skirt combo and been found wanting.

How did it measure up? Let's start with my younger son's nativity play. Have you ever registered the thought, deep down, that any language or accent other than yours is somehow just an affectation? I’ve dropped off my kids at this school every morning, interacted with the other children countless times, and yet when the play started and the first narrator stepped up to the microphone to say LONG AGO IN THE TOWN OF NAZARETH THERE WAS A LADY CALLED MARY (layday cooolled Mehhhhray) there was a moment when I thought ahhhh even the kids talk like that! 

There were no lobsters, as L,A would have you believe.  There were two centurions who were clearly very jazzed about their swords.  There were three girls dressed as sheep whose jobs were to lean into the microphone like the Andrews Sisters and, after a weighty pause, say “BAA.” (Pause).  “BAA.”  One boy was too nervous to do anything other than mumble for a second before scurrying back to his seat, so all the parents made what were probably meant to be "There, there" sounds but in aggregate came off as perhaps a bit disapproving? The kids sang a few songs I now know by heart because we’d been instructed to watch this video of blank-faced young women demonstrating the accompanying hand motions as practice.  

I'm not allowed to share pictures of the kids, so instead here's the sign that was outside the fismonger's.

All in all a successful event, even if the prime minister didn't make an appearance. When B got home, he told us that because they had all been so good, they each got a chocolate biscuit.