The smugness and often staggering insensitivity of the Christmas round-robin letter is enough to drive one to drink, but Kit Hesketh-Harvey admits that their awfulness does add to festive amusement.
CHRISTMAS is coming and the robin’s getting fat. Not, alas, the cheery little fellow on the Christmas card, but the newsletter contained therein. Brace yourselves for seasonal blizzards, not of snow, but of round robin letters.
’Self-deluding? Boastful? Solipsistic?Prolix? Or, if one is lucky, containing tidings of—quite unintentional— comic joy? It was bad enough receiving cards personalised with a photograph of the sender’s family wearing identical snowflake jumpers and grinning like Tony Blair in front of the new country house/yacht/chalet/Fourth Of June picnic, but there was at least fun to be had in deciding which of their teenagers bore the most telling expression of quiet desperation.
It’s worse now. Unless you’re alert enough to shake the card out directly over the recycling bin (much as one does in order to rid the Sunday papers of junk), you are as likely as not to be engulfed in an avalanche of unwanted, unintelligible information.
One woman of my acquaintance opened a card that shrieked ‘Have The Best Christmas Ever’. Inside, a chirrupy report crowed over a dizzyingly successful twelvemonth: the holiday in Bali, the selfless charity work, the sun-drenched golden-wedding anniversary celebration. Its author concluded with the hope that her recipient had had just as lovely a year. The recipient had been widowed a month previously. And the sender had attended the funeral.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der December 14 - December 21 2016-Ausgabe von Country Life UK.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
Bereits Abonnent ? Anmelden
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der December 14 - December 21 2016-Ausgabe von Country Life UK.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
Bereits Abonnent? Anmelden
Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
