Fiery Red

Red and luscious in colour the holly berries are like tiny little beacons in an otherwise dull and dreary garden at the moment and you can't help but think of Christmas.

Always topping the Christmas pudding while the flames of the lit brandy dance round the edge, the small sprig nearly always has to be rescued at the last minute before it's engulfed in flames. It's been traditionally my job to emerge triumphant from the kitchen carrying it aloft for the last 28 years, my mother's before that and my grandmother's when we were kids. A slightly dodgy job carrying the inferno fiery plate as Hubs gets a bit carried away with the quantity of brandy so there is always a good chance of me going up in smoke like the holly!

Usually by the time it gets to late December the berries have as a rule nearly all been eaten and we have to scrounge a bit from elsewhere - a tad annoyingly! Glad the blackbirds have a feast though too!