Stir-Up Sunday
FAMILY SHORT STORY BY GAIL WARRICK COX
Is the family’s best-loved tradition about to fall by the wayside? It certainly seems that way…
It’s one of those sparkling November days, bright, sharp and crystal-clear. Perfect conditions for a walk to the top of Craggy Tor, the steep hill that overlooks Lisa and Nick’s hometown.
They set off wrapped in scarves, hats and fur-lined hiking boots. It’s a bit of a trek, but well worth it on a clear day.
The view from the top is spectacular.
About halfway up, they see something black and glistening in the ragged tufts of grass beside the path. It’s a spent rocket, a relic from Bonfire Night a couple of weeks before. Nick picks it up.
“I’ll pop it in the bin at the top,” he says. As they walk on, he chants, “Remember, remember, the twenty-fourth of November.”
“Surely, that should be the fifth of November,” Lisa says.
But she knows what he’s referring to. Stir-Up Sunday, the last Sunday before Advent – the day she makes the Christmas pudding and the whole family descend to give it a stir and make a Christmas wish. This year, it falls on November the twenty-fourth.
Nick drops the rocket into the bin and they sit on the wooden bench provided for weary walkers to catch their breath and take in the view. He slips his arm around Lisa.
“I thought you might have forgotten about Stir-Up Sunday,” he says. “You haven’t bought any ingredients.”
I haven’t forgotten.
Lisa’s eyes are firmly fixed on the view of the town below. “There are a few days until Sunday. Plenty of time to pick up the ingredients for a Christmas pudding.”
Nick squeezes her shoulder. Something is clearly bothering her; she’s usually so excited about Stir-Up Sunday. Their grown-up children, Max and Amy, never miss it. Even if they can’t make it home for Christmas Day, they always come down for Stir-Up Sunday and stay for the whole weekend.
There’s usually a house full. Max and his wife Bella visit with the three grandchildren, who absolutely love to stir the pudding, and Amy will often bring a friend. It’s a family tradition, one Lisa loves more than Christmas Day.
“I’ll write a list tomorrow and pop out to get what I need,” Lisa says.
“Good.” Nick smiles at her.
Lisa’s face remains expressionless.
“What’s up?” he asks. “I thought you loved Stir-Up Sunday.”
Lisa turns to him, her eyes a little glassy.
I do. But I’ve not heard from Max or Amy. I think they’ve forgotten. They’ve usually let me know by now that they’re coming, who they’re bringing, what time they’ll arrive…
“Why don’t you contact them and ask if they’re coming?” Nick suggests.
“I don’t want to put pressure on them,” Lisa explains. “They’ve probably got far more important things to do than come down here and stir a Christmas pudding.”
“But at least you’d know for sure,” Nick says. “And even if they can’t make it this time, it’s not the end of the world.”
Lisa’s glum face suggests it might be.
The following morning, Lisa is up early. She riffles through cupboards, taps away at her tablet then writes a list.
“Anything I can do to help?” Nick asks cheerily. “I could come to the shops with you if you like.”
Lisa shakes her head.
No, it’s alright. You’ve got golf this morning, go and enjoy yourself. I’ve only got a few things to pick up and it’s such a lovely day. It will be nice to walk.
Pleased that she seems to have rallied a bit since yesterday, Nick is hopeful that she may have heard from Max or Amy.
“Any news on who’s coming for Stir-Up Sunday?” he asks.
“No.” Lisa sighs. “Nothing yet.”
Patches of icy dew shimmer on the golf course in the late November sunshine. The sky is blue and cloudless, the day brisk and bright with a bracing chill. Nick meets his buddy, Jeff, in the car park and the two pals set off for a relaxing round of golf.
“Doing anything nice this weekend?” Jeff asks as they tee off.
“Not sure, exactly,” Nick says. He swings his club and fires a golf ball up the fairway. It drops into the long grass.
“Aw, bad luck,” Jeff says. He fixes his eyes on the flagpole in the distance and lines up his shot. He takes a swing and his ball lands squarely on the green just a good putt away from the first. A satisfied grin appears on his face.
“So, still finalising your plans for the weekend, are you?” he asks.
“It’s Stir-Up Sunday this weekend,” Nick says.
“Stir-up what?”
“Lisa makes the Christmas pudding on a special Sunday each year,” Nick explains. “Max and Amy come home to give it a stir and make a wish. It’s a family tradition. Lisa loves it, but this year she hasn’t heard from either of them so we don’t know if they’re coming.”
Jeff scratches his head as they walk towards the green.
“Why doesn’t she just ask them?” he says. “Janey would be straight onto our two if they hadn’t let her know about something like that.”
“Lisa doesn’t want them to feel pressured into coming down here just to stir a pudding,” Nick says.
They both lead busy lives, Max with his family and Amy with her high-flying job. I think Lisa feels they may have finally grown out of Stir-Up Sunday.
Jeff is quiet for a moment.
“Strange you haven’t heard from either of them, though,” he says. “Seems unlikely they would both be too busy and neither of them would let you know. It doesn’t sound like Max and Amy to me. Perhaps there’s a logical explanation.”
Nick searches in the rough.
“I can’t think what that might be,” he says, “but you’re right, it is unlike them not to say anything.” He pushes the head of his club beneath his golf ball and, with an adept flick of the wrist, pops it out of the rough and onto the green.
When Nick arrives home, he finds Lisa sitting at the kitchen table scrolling through her tablet, surrounded by bags of currants, raisins, candied peel and dark brown sugar.
“Hello. Did you have a nice game of golf?” she asks.
“I was a bit off my stroke, actually,” Nick admits. “I’ll challenge Jeff to a rematch next week. What about you? Looks like you got everything you need for the Christmas pudding.”
“I have,” Lisa replies, “but I’ve been thinking. I might not even make a Christmas pudding this year.”
“Really?”
Nick is shocked. They always have a home-made Christmas pudding. Lisa can’t have heard from Max or Amy.
“Not heard from anyone, then?” he asks, tentatively.
“No,” Lisa replies. “But it’s OK.” She forces a smile. “I’ve come to terms with the situation.
I might make a stollen or mince pies on Sunday and freeze them. Mix things up a bit. Create a new tradition. We can’t expect things to stay the same forever, can we?
“I suppose not,” Nick says, shaking his head. But he makes a secret note to message Max and Amy tomorrow when Lisa is out at her Friday morning yoga class with Janey. Jeff’s right, there has to be a logical explanation for them not getting in touch, but he’s no idea what it could be.
Lisa is late back from yoga. She flies through the front door laden with shopping bags, which she heaves onto the kitchen table as she calls to Nick.
He descends the stairs wearing a pinny and rubber gloves. Lisa gives him a quizzical look.
“I’ve been cleaning the bathrooms,” he explains, untangling himself from the apron and pulling off the rubber gloves.
“Perfect.” Lisa’s face is flushed and smiling.
You’ll never guess what.
Nick thinks he might just be able to hazard a guess as to what has brought this beaming smile to his wife’s face, but he doesn’t let on.
“What?” he asks.
“They’re all coming for Stir-Up Sunday. Max, Bella and the grandkids, and Amy and her new boyfriend, Jake.
“In fact, they’re all coming down this evening and staying for the whole weekend, hence all these groceries.” She gestures to the bulging bags. “Luckily, I made the spare beds up just in case.”
She unpacks the shopping.
“So, how did you find out they’re all coming?” Nick asks curiously. He had messaged both his son and daughter while Lisa was out, but hadn’t heard back. Perhaps his messages had prompted them to contact their mother.
Lisa takes a large baking tray from a shelf, an indication she intends to make a huge lasagne for the evening’s dinner, a favourite with the grandchildren.
“Well,” she says, beaming, “it was all down to Janey.”
“Janey? How come?”
“She knew we hadn’t heard from Max and Amy. I think you’d mentioned it to Jeff. Anyway, she remembered a news report from about a week ago that said there was a system blip with WhatsApp.”
Lisa pulls the chopping board from a cupboard. “Apparently, some messages were directed straight to the app’s archive.” She slices onions. “When I opened the archive, there they all were. Messages from Max and Amy telling me they’re all coming for the weekend.
“I messaged them back straight away and it’s all sorted. They’ll be here this evening.” She pulls a tissue from her pocket and wipes a tear away. “These onions are a bit strong,” she says.
Friday night’s lasagne goes down a storm and Saturday’s weather remains dry, bright and chilly, allowing everyone to take the steep walk to the top of Craggy Tor and enjoy the view.
On Sunday morning, Lisa fills her largest mixing bowl with an array of festive ingredients and ensures the mixture is the correct consistency for stirring. Jeff and Janey arrive on cue, having been invited to Stir-Up Sunday as a thank you for saving the day.
Everyone lines up in the kitchen, waiting to stir the pudding and make a wish. The grandchildren go first and when everyone has had their turn, Lisa declares the pudding thoroughly mixed.
She covers the bowl and puts the mixture to one side, ready to be finished off and steamed tomorrow.
A hearty Sunday roast follows and by early evening all the guests have gone.
Lisa sinks into her favourite armchair while Nick goes to the kitchen to pour them both a well-earned glass of wine. He checks on the pudding mixture, breathing its familiar rich, spicy aroma.
He returns to the lounge and passes Lisa a glass of red.
So, you decided to make a Christmas pudding after all.
“Yes,” Lisa admits, “and I made it to the usual recipe.”
“That’s great,” Nick says, relieved. “I thought you were going to make a stollen or mince pies and mix things up a bit this year.”
“I was.” Lisa sips her wine. “But I realised our family tradition is perfect as it is. Everyone loves it, and it doesn’t need any more mixing up!”
Find out more about the history of Stir-up Sunday, along with some brilliant recipes.
And as an alternative to Christmas pudding, try this nutty Christmas cake for Stir-up Sunday.
