The Castle Pillock Chronicles 2018 (8 January)

Here at Castle Pillock we take our Christmas decorations down on 6 January.  If it was up to me we wouldn’t put them up before Christmas Eve, but long ago I was whinged to a near death experience by
the Scion and the Princess, and we compromised. They go up on 21 December (the Solstice) and come down on 6 January (traditional Twelfth Night).  We therefore nod to Paganism and medieval revelry, and raise an acknowledging eyebrow at religion. 

Actually I was a bit worried about the Scion this year. 

‘You did what?’

‘Me and Girlfriend went to Midnight Mass in the Cathedral.’

‘The Catholic Cathedral?’

‘Uh-uh.  I went up and took Communion.’

‘That’s a mortal sin.  Not only are you not confirmed and not a Catholic, you’re an atheist.’

‘I just wanted to see what it was like.  It was quite nice, actually.’

‘Taking Catholic communion is not ‘quite nice’.  You are slowly dissolving the body of Christ on your tongue.  If I believed in Hell, you would be on your way.  It’s disrespectful.’

‘To who?’

‘Whom.  Catholics. Grammar.  What was ‘quite nice’ about it?’

‘I dunno.  It just was.’

‘Did Girlfriend take communion?’

‘Nah.  She fell asleep half way through.’

The higher they climb, the harder they fall.  To comprehend the gravity of this, you have to know that since he was about fifteen I have had frequently to remind the Scion that people are entitled to their religious
beliefs.  Being religious does not – necessarily – imply intellectual incapacity, a desire to oppress and murder others who are not religious, or a predilection for paedophilia.  I adopted a Venn diagram approach.  There are places where the circles overlap, but there are more where they do not.  I am an atheist myself, but in my formative years I went to Sunday School and church and can still sing most of Hymns Ancient and Modern without looking at the words.  I also think the language of
the King James Bible is a beautiful work of art, whatever my opinion of the contents.

‘You’re getting religion,’ the Princess informed her brother.

‘Not.’

‘Are.’

Ah, the essence of childhood Christmases.  ‘Not.’  ‘Are.’  It is good for my old heart to know that although physically they may be twenty-nine and twenty-three, put them together and it’s Yesterday Once More.

It’s a few years since the Scion’s been around for the ritual removal of the Christmas decs, but he was keen to participate this year because, assuming all goes according to plan, we have had our last Christmas in Castle Pillock.  The old girl’s being sold in the spring, on account of her being too big just for one permanent and one Uni vacation resident, cats notwithstanding.  Next Christmas, if all goes according to another plan, we shall be in New York for the festivities.  For once in our lives,
we have a bit of money, thanks to the Will of the Dowager Lady Pillock, who has looked after us in death as she did in life.  Because we are also the descendants of the late Lord Pillock, who unlike his sensible wife thought money is only worth the memories it buys, we are collectively blowing a portion of our modest inheritance on a trip we have
always fancied but never thought we would do.  Assuming the Scion and Girlfriend can manage the dates, it will be the four of us, freezing our bits off as we admire that enormous outdoor Christmas Tree you always see in the movies, take a ride on that pony and trap thing you always see in the movies, and generally pay out money for all that stuff you always see in the movies and only gullible tourists ever actually do.  By next December I have to be able to stay in a lift long enough to get to the top of the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty.  So far I can manage
about three floors if I’m with someone I can trust not to eat me if we get
stuck, but I have to be next to the door, which will obviously be extremely helpful between floors.

‘If you have got religion, we can go to that New York cathedral you always see in the movies, and meet an Irish priest with a twinkle in his eye, and come out feeling warm and that there is a Santa Claus.’

‘Yeah.  Or we could go and throw things at Trump Tower.’

‘For heaven’s sake don’t put anything anti-Trump on Facebook or Twitter or Instachat or whatever.  We’ll never get a visa.’

‘Yes, because the CIA will really be looking at my Twitter feed.’

‘It’s not the CIA who monitors everybody’s Twitter feed…’

Here’s to 2018.  It could be interesting.  One way or another.