December 2nd.
Pickled onions.
Lady Penelope couldn't figure out or at least remember, why this was significant around about Christmas. Until she was gently reminded one day, when she sauntered into the kitchen for a snack.
Lily, their beloved cook, was up to her elbows in creating home-made preserves. Including pickling onions. Tears were streaming down her face … and Penny's too, as the smell of boiling vinegar hit her, the minute she walked through that door.
After the initial shock, when Lily put the vinegar mix aside to cool off, she made Lady Penelope a nice cup of tea, and reminisced about years gone by. How 'little Miss' as Penny was affectionately called by the staff, used to hang around the kitchen, watching the staff go about their business.
They would perch her on the table, so that she wouldn't get trampled underfoot. There, she would sit quietly, nibbling on snacks. Most especially pickled onions. She was always chastised when she'd raid the jars … weeks before they were supposed to 'mature'.
Lily had always reminded her that some pickles could take up to six weeks before they could be opened and eaten. And Penny's reply was always the same.
But I like them crunchy.
So, for a while, Lily always made one special little jar for Lady Penelope and put it aside, in a special place in the cupboard. And once in a while, from then onwards, around about Christmas. She'd 'sneak' into the kitchen and help herself to her very own special jar of onions.