Oh yes, Anonymous, my rather sparkly house sharer, this one is definitely for you!
I love fairy lights. And, it is fair to say, now that Christmas is over, that my house still boasts it’s fair share of colourful twinkly things. There is the set of glowing red flower-shaped ones in the lounge and the delicate woodland glow of a garland of tiny green lights that creep along the picture frames above my piano in the dining room. I have also acquired a set of multi-coloured fairy lights in my bedroom, trailing around a pair of black metalwork candle sconces. This set crept in stealthily – appearing at Christmas and then proving so irresistibly pretty that I couldn’t take them down.
And this is just on the inside!
Go into my garden at night and you will find a magnolia tree garlanded with glowing balls in shades of pink and green and blue (if the sun shone that day, of course – the lights being solar-powered) and various lanterns standing sentinel at the corners of flower beds. One of my favourite things to do is to sit in my conservatory (festooned with wooden cut-out lantern fairy lights, of course!) on a summer’s night with a few candles added to the mix, looking out on a garden that is pin-pricked with lights, holding a glass of good single malt (as peaty as possible) in my hand.
My lodgers, too, have shown a great fondness over the years for these multiplying mutants, festooning the beams and angles of my attic room with light and colour. My favourite were a set of beautiful pink flamingos. Another quirky design was to be found in a friend’s kitchen, where glowing red chilli peppers ran around the ceiling as you chopped and sautéd and blended.
Of course fairy lights are not always trouble-free. I positively dislike the icy glow of the newer LED lights – they may be low energy but they do not have the warmth and beauty of the good old-fashioned types. These you don’t appear to be able to buy any more – which is a pity because the bulbs eventually blow and cannot be replaced leading to the necessity of early disposal or intermittent gapping if you can by-pass the fuse bulbs. (No, I didn’t advise that!).
One of the problems with the appreciation of fairy lights is that people go into overkill. They use them everywhere – up every wall and window – until you might as well have put in a couple of giant search lights instead. At Christmas I feel sorry for the National Grid – and for all my eco-minded friends who have campaigned and scrimped all year to reduce power consumption only to have their targets blown in a week or two by people who think that the front of a house is not complete without snowflakes and santas and reindeer lit by a thousand watts.
But fairy lights, as their name would suggest, have a bit of magic about them. You can’t be sad when there are fairy lights. Well, maybe you can be sad in a slightly melancholy way, but the fairy lights are bound to keep you company and cheer you up a little. If I’m feeling low I simply switch them on and everything feels instantly better.
On reflection – and the reflection of fairy lights in a dark winter window is hard to beat – maybe fairy lights should actually be in a list called: ‘In Praise of Ten Rather Over-Appreciated Things’!
The huge long lonely drive all the way down to Cornwall on my own in pouring rain (necessitated by my promising man walking out on me the night before) – Oops.
Cornwall itself – healing, peaceful, crashing waves on lonely beaches to match my mood – with the additional surprise bonus of tea and biccies with the wonderful Dawn French. Oh, and a talk on Tall Ships in the Parish Hall. And the logburner. And…
© Anne de Gruchy