"The Ever Changing Face of Tradition" OR "Gingerbread Houses"

This blog will include a number of traditions - those that we share with millions of others, and those which are (to the best of my understanding) unique to our family.

The tradition which I'm going to go into a bit of detail about now if one which many people seem to enjoy a variation of.  That of the Gingerbread House. 

There are reasons for the appearance of all new traditions and, it should be remembered, that at some point all traditions were new.  Some of the reasons behind them get lost into time, or else three or four conflicting origins are presented for their existence.  Our family tradition of the gingerbread house, however, is one with a very definite origin.

In Summer 2009, our house in Lincolnshire had been on the market for what seemed like an age.  We knew that we wanted to be back in Scotland (where I was born) but weren't sure if it would happen for us at any time soon.  So we booked a cottage in Argyll.  

Actually, we sold the house in the Autumn and moved up to Caithness in the middle of December.  Our new house was full of boxes and, whilst we were very excited to have moved in, none of us would have fully enjoyed a Christmas in that environment. 

It was a really beautiful holiday.  The six of us who went were surrounded by magnificent, snow-capped mountains and spent Christmas Eve opposite a stable, which reminded us all of the simplicity of that First Christmas in Bethlehem.  There was "Carols at Kings" on the television (the only time I've ever watched it), and, when we went to Oban to pick up our brother from the train, there were snow and ice crystals glittering on the road.

But there were things that were missing.  Mostly Mum's cooking and baking as, although we ate the most lovely foods that the shops could muster, it wasn't the same.  Trying to get something new and different, Mum and Dad bought a gingerbread house.  

On Christmas Eve, we broke into it, sharing out the large pieces and dividing the icing between us as well.  As the house itself was a Hansel and Gretel scene, a headless witch followed shortly, causing much amusement and hilarity.  The bright red bow, which had held together the plastic wrapping, wrapped around the ear of my teddy bear, where it remains to this day.

Every year since then, there has been a gingerbread house.  Another tradition to follow and, last year, my sister sent off for one from John Lewis to make sure the tradition stayed alive.  We eat it each Christmas year and, since my brother can no longer eat gluten, he now gets all the icing!