After months of planning, testing and developing over lockdown, we’ve been in the warehouse organising the photography of our new scented botanical pillar candles. I’m so pleased it’s all just come together. Let’s face it, after the year we’ve had, who doesn’t need a little bit of scented joy at the moment?
As I mentioned last month, we are also busy planning our chalet for ‘Bath at Christmas’ on Abbeygate Street, which is planned to run, restrictions permitting, from (erm) Friday 27th November to Sunday 20th December. Whilst the award-winning Christmas Market will not take place in its usual form this year, hopefully there may still be 12 festive chalets dotted around the city streets, with all the atmosphere and magic of Bath at Christmas time, albeit without the crowds. I understand there are plans for some of Bath’s iconic buildings to be brought to life with magical illuminations. Fingers crossed.
Before our David Bailey sessions with pillar candles, we stole a few days away and, as all plans for foreign travel are now a wistful dream, delegated to Sunday mornings over coffee and the Travel section of the Sunday Times my husband, youngest son and I went on another staycation, or, as my mother would argue, “a holiday”.
“Your father and I spent years with you, your brother and sister camping when you were tiny. Devon and Cornwall held wonders for you all. You didn’t need passports, visas and inoculations then. Just a thermos, a cagoule and stout shoes”.
I took her word for it, and we had a very soggy few days in Daphne Du Maurier country in Cornwall. Why is it that one’s mother is always right? Cagoules may have been replaced by Gortex, but once sheathed in waterproofs we were immune to the elements, although this time we did not return to a bunkhouse as previously booked by Hubby for our break in Devon. On the contrary, I was in charge of the itinerary and lodgings so that the hotel that welcomed us back at the end of a day’s wet adventure was everything a damp and clammy family could ask for. For instance, nothing like a fabulous hot tub overlooking an inky black and menacing sea, followed by a sumptuous bed to soothe one’s chilled bones. My feet however stayed on terra firma, soaked by a pedicurist’s foot spa, rather than Cornish rain in which our youngest enjoyed zipping high above the Eden Project on the longest zip wire in the country. Apart from my feet, the only other liquid involved, was the Negroni which slipped down my throat oh, so mercifully.
Back to life, back to reality. It is so easy to forget the misery wreaked on our planet when one has the privilege to escape it, albeit momentarily. The ‘Rona’ as it is referred to in our house, sadly shows no signs of abatement. India, one of my most favourite places in the world has one of the highest rates of infection in the world. It is heart-breaking. And in America, where my god-daughter’s brother lives with his young family, and who have been cut off from all British family members unable to visit, watch the news each day as more and more Americans are slayed by the virus. My daughter’s recent encounter with a very small child at the school that she works in is a reminder that even the little ones are also struggling with this unfamiliar life.
“Bloody ‘Rona”, the little boy cried, tears squirting “Halloween’s cancelled and I can’t go trick or treating”. My daughter kindly overlooked the bad language and comforted the child. She feels his pain, having, like so many thousands of others, had her plans scuppered. The little boy cried for his loss of sweets, my daughter to go to New York next year to do a Master’s degree. Young and old, everyone is impacted by this terrible pandemic and my thoughts are very much with those ill or alone and those facing the toughest restrictions watching their businesses or jobs disappear through absolutely no fault of their own.
So who knows what Christmas holds this year? I can only thank you, once again for your support and your orders and if allowed and you do decide to venture out for some festive shopping and mulled wine, we shall be delighted to see you in our little chalet on Abbeygate Street. Fingers crossed…
Keep safe x