There is some disagreement as to whether Twelfth Night is the 5th January - the eve of Twelfth Day, or on the 6th January - the evening of the Twelfth Day. Either way it has come and gone.
So, all the Christmas decorations are down; the tree dismantled, the wreath taken from the front door, the cards read once more then placed into the recylcing box. Why is it such a mournful task?
I'm relieved in one way - they all seem so irrelevant once the Day itself is over. But is it sad because perhaps Christmas once again has not quite lived up to expectations? Am I trying in vain to recapture the magic I felt as a child?
Dad took this photo of my sister and I sitting in front of the fire in our basket chairs c.1952, and accidentally superimposed another picture of us singing carols. But the result was rather nice.
17th Century Twelfth Night merriment. 
Now Christmas is past,
Twelfth Night is the last
To the Old Year adieu,
Great joy to the new
2 comments:
What a delightful picture the superimposed photographs make! So innocent.
I collect "Twelfth Night" ornaments and have a special "Twelfth Night" Christmas tree, so I also very much like the 17th century image. Thank you for posting them :-).
Thanks, roz. (the 12th Night painting is by David Teniers the Younger - Flemish, 17th century)
happy new year!
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