IF we listen to modern broadcasters, we can be tempted to think that winter begins on December 1 and ends three months later on the last day of February.

This was evident when I was listening to statistics concerning the heavy rains and floods of recent weeks - the talk was of the wettest autumn for years but the "autumn" in question was the period from September 1 until November 30.

I have always believed that winter begins today, December 22, which is the winter solstice and also the shortest day of the year, and that it ends on March 21, the spring equinox. Autumn therefore ends on December 21. A solstice (of which there are two, summer and winter) is not the same as an equinox.

During a solstice, the sun reaches its extreme northern and southern points and in some cases, seems to remain stationary before turning back along its course. Equinox, on the other hand, suggests equality. At both the spring and autumn equinox, the days and nights are of equal length and, in the northern hemisphere, the autumn equinox (September 22) marks the beginning of autumn while the spring equinox (March 21 ) is the first day of spring.

Whether such contradictions are unimportant, or whether we are seeing the start of a cunning plan to change our seasons' dates remains to be seen. For me, though, autumn ended yesterday and winter begins today.

Frumetty delights

Sunday is Christmas Eve and I am reminded of the wealth of ancient customs which are associated with this magical but very spiritual evening.

As a Catholic, I was brought up to attend midnight mass (a term now adopted and widely used by non-Catholic churches) which was then celebrated at midnight and not at some earlier, more consumer-friendly time.

For a child, this was indeed a wonderful experience, with the expectation of going to bed very late indeed and waking up to find presents which had mysteriously appeared at the foot of one's bed. This was followed by Christmas Day with its feasting, partying, carol singers, shouters and visits by friends and family.

Reminiscing on those times, substantially more than half a century ago, Christmas was a haze of day-long enjoyment, a satisfying and quite remarkable blend of religion, tradition and materialism - and all the more pertinent because of that.

I remember we ate frumetty before attending midnight mass. Sometimes known as frumenty with other names throughout the country (eg fermity, furmity) this is a dish rather like porridge made from pearled wheat or barley which has been creaved the previous night and then flavoured.

Creaved means to soak it in water until the husks swell. In some parts of West Yorkshire, the wheat husks were crushed (kibbled) before being soaked in water but this soaking had to be completed early on Christmas Eve.

Later on Christmas Eve, the swollen wheat or barley was cooked very slowly in equal parts of milk and water. Three hours or thereabouts seems to have been the usual cooking time. The idea was to have the dish ready in time to eat before attending midnight mass, although in some households it was eaten upon returning from mass, and before going to bed.

On its own, though, frumetty was rather unappetising and so it was usually flavoured to suit the family's taste, the most popular additives being cinnamon, raisins, sultanas, various spices or even liquors like rum, sherry or brandy. It was always said that the flavouring made the frumetty!

In some householders, this feast was supplemented with other traditional fare. Ginger- bread and cheese was a favourite in Yorkshire, sometimes eaten on Christmas Eve after mass, and sometimes on Christmas Day after the main meal.

If a visitor arrived at the household on Christmas Day, he or she was generally offered a piece of gingerbread and cheese, plus a glass of sherry. A slice of Christmas cake, along with a glass of sherry or some other festive tipple was also offered, and this was also a traditional means of saying "thank-you" to the carol singers or shouters who toured the houses.

Christmas Eve does witness some other odd beliefs and traditions.

There is an everlasting notion that, on Christmas Eve, cattle sink to their knees at midnight in honour of the birth of Christ. In some areas, it is also believed that hived bees hum the psalms.

The idea that cattle get to their knees can be explained. If one of these domestic animals lies down to sleep and is disturbed by someone arriving with a torch or in a party of sightseers, then it will attempt to rise to its feet. In so doing, it will rise with its rear legs first - and so, when one enters the byre, shippon, cow house, cattle shed or whatever it is called, we might be greeted by the sight of cows apparently on their knees.

This does not explain why bees are thought to hum the psalms and I will not venture an opinion on that manifestation!

Another odd custom was practised on Christmas Eve by love-sick girls.

On Christmas Eve, they would make a cake out of flour, water, eggs and salt. At midnight, they would then eat the cake after which they would walk backwards upstairs. By doing this, it was thought they would see a vision of their future husband. Not surprisingly, this was called a dumb cake.

One of the most interesting customs, still practised, occurs every Christmas at All Saints' church, Dewsbury. It is called the devil's knell and involves the tolling of the church bell. Beginning at midnight, the knell consists of one stroke for every year since the birth of Christ, an act which is said to keep the devil at bay. This Christmas Eve, therefore, 2,000 tolls will be rung - but, as I do not live anywhere near Dewsbury, I have no idea how long it will take and I am somewhat relieved that I am not within hearing distance of the knell. It could take 12 hours or even more - so perhaps the ringers are fortified with dishes of frumetty, well laced with brandy!

And finally, by tradition, Robin Hood died on December 24, 1247, and his tomb can be seen at Kirklees near Brighouse in West Yorkshire, but it is in private grounds.

Winter warnings

Somewhat surprisingly, there is very little weather lore associated with Christmas Eve. Most of the prevailing lore revolves around Christmas Day, although much of it is sufficiently imprecise to be applicable to the whole of the festive season.

Perhaps the best known is that "A green Christmas makes a fat churchyard" which tells us that a mild Christmas is not the most healthy of circumstances.

Far better to suffer frosts and chills which, it is believed, keep ailments at bay. On similar lines, it is said that if the meadows are green at Christmas, then we shall suffer frosts at Easter.

On the continent, the Germans have a saying that a shepherd would rather see his wife than the sun enter the stable on Christmas Day, and an old English saying suggests that a wet Christmas heralds empty granaries, barrels and barns.

This can be contradicted by an old saying that if the sun shines through the apple trees on Christmas Day, then there will be an abundant crop the following autumn, and also it is believed that a windy Christmas brings a bumper crop of fruit.

What country people seek, therefore, is a Christmas Day rich with snow or frost - if it snows on Christmas night, the crops will do well, snow on Christmas night means a good crop of hops, or ice hanging from the willow means the clover may be cut at Easter. These are all good indications for the summer.

I am not sure how the reputed global warming will affect these ancient beliefs, but in the meantime, I wish all readers a very Merry Christmas