Thanks to Philip and Sheila for sharing this trip to Dyffryn, one of our favourite haunts!
This was four years ago - Dyffryn Gardens celebrating the 12 Days of Christmas with a trail designed and created by Josie Rayworth and the Erddig and Dyffryn volunteers. I doubt Dyffryn is doing anything this year as the house and gardens are closed under the present restrictions, so this is for all who love Dyffryn Gardens to enjoy at home.
We remain really grateful to Sheila and Philip for sharing all their trips with us and during this pandemic they have given us an opportunity and an excuse to "get out" and enjoy what is round about us in the UK. We look forward to safe days when we can experience in person and to 2021 when we shall have more outings with Philip and Sheila.
I have also been sent this amusing take on the traditional Twelve Days of Christmas to share with you. Thank you and see what you think!
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS
( A Correspondence )
by
John Julius Norwich
25th December.
My dearest darling,
That partridge, in that lovely little pear tree! What an enchanting,
romantic, poetic present! Bless you and thank you.
Your deeply loving Emily.
26th December.
Mr dearest darling Edward,
The two turtle doves arrived this morning and are cooing away
in the pear tree as I write. I'm so touched and grateful.
With undying love, as always, Emily.
27th December.
My darling Edward,
You do thinks of the most original presents: whoever thought of sending
anybody three French hens? Do they really come all the way from France?
It's a pity that we have no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some.
Thank you, anyway, they're lovely.
Your loving Emily.
28th December.
Dearest Edward,
What a surprise - four calling birds arrived this morning. They are very
sweet, even if they do call rather loudly - they make telephoning
impossible. But I expect they'll calm down when they get used to their
new home. Anyway, I'm very grateful - of course I am.
Love from Emily.
29th December.
Dearest Edward,
The postman has just delivered five most beautiful gold rings, one for
each finger, and all fitting perfectly. A really lovely present - lovelier
in a way than birds, which do take rather a lot of looking after. The
four that arrived yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm
afraid none of use got much sleep last night. Mummy says she wants us to
use the rings to 'wring' their necks - she's only joking, I think; though
I know what she means. But I love the rings. Bless you.
Love, Emily.
30th December.
Dear Edward,
Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door this morning,
it certainly wasn't six socking great geese laying eggs all over the
doorstep. Frankly, I rather hoped you had stopped sending me birds -
we have no room for them and they have already ruined the croquet lawn.
I know you meant well, but - let's call a halt, shall we?
Love, Emily.
31st December.
Edward,
I thought I said no more birds; but this morning I woke up to find no
less than seven swans all trying to get into our tiny goldfish pond.
I'd rather not thinks what happened to the goldfish. The whole house
seems to be full of birds - to say nothing of what they leave behind
them. Please, please STOP.
Your Emily.
1st January.
Frankly, I think I prefer the birds. What am I to do with eight
milkmaids - AND their cows? Is this some kind of a joke? If so,
I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.
Emily
2nd January.
Look here Edward, this has gone far enough. You say you're sending
me nine ladies dancing; all I can say is that judging from the way
they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The village just isn't
accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless hussies with nothing
on but their lipstick cavorting round the green - and it's Mummy
and I who get blamed. If you value our friendship - which I do
less and less - kindly stop this ridiculous behaviour at once.
Emily
3rd January.
As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are prancing abour
all over what used to be the garden - before the geese and the
swans and the cows got at it; and several of them, I notice, are
taking inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile the
neighbours are trying to have us evicted. I shall never speak
to you again.
Emily
4th January.
This is the last straw. You know I detest bagpipes. The place has
now become something between a menagerie and a madhouse and a man
from the Council has just declared it unfit for habitation. At
least Mummy has been spared this last outrage; they took her away
yesterday afternoon in an ambulance. I hope you're satisfied.
5th January.
Sir,
Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to inform you that
with the arrival on her premises a half-past seven this morning of
the entire percussion section of the Liverpool Philharmonic
Orchestra and several of their friends she has no course left open
to her but to seek an injunction to prevent your importuning her
further. I am making arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.
I am, Sir, Yours faithfully,
G.CREEP
Solicitor-at-law