What do Irish folks traditionally do on their holiday? Drink!
What do Italian folks traditionally do on their holiday? Eat a fattening pastry!
I dunno about you, but of the two unhealthy alternatives, I'd rather take the latter. :-)
All joking aside, I remember doing St. Patrick's Day things at school. We learned to do Irish jigs in gym class and they were usually featured in a St. Patrick's based assembly that included songs like "Danny Boy" and "My Wild Irish Rose" (which I ended up playing for the organ recital in fifth grade). My favorite "Irish" song, however, was the rollicking "McNamara's Band." I loved the sound of "Hennessey Tennessey tootles the flute."
"Our" holiday, however, was today, which is St. Joseph's Day. It's not a Holy Day of Obligation, nor is it celebrated with parades. However, there is one tradition: the zeppole. Take a pastry shell and shape it like a hollow doughnut. Fill it with yellow cream. Top it with piped white cream in a ribbony flow. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a zeppole. They are unapologetically rich and are still eaten despite Lent and fasting, to celebrate the foster father of Jesus. No one knows what rich pastry has to do with St. Joseph--but hey, enjoy!
Seriously, I've never been all that much of a zeppole fan because I never liked yellow cream. I would avoid the cream puffs from the Italian bakeries for that reason. The only bakery in town that made cream puffs with white cream was Bob Carol's bakery out on Oaklawn Avenue, so I enjoyed the very occasional visit immensely.
I was amused to notice, however, that most of the zeppole recipes I found on a short web search were more like doughnuts. I believe that is the Sicilian version of the pastry; they are made differently all over Italy. Or the filled ones are a specialty version that only bakeries have the patience to make. Certainly a pseudo-doughnut is a lot easier to cook than a filled pastry shell!
19 March 2004
17 March 2004
Birthday Dog
Sometime at the end of May in 1998, after the death of sweet, laid-back Leia, we went to the Cobb County Animal Shelter and found a shivering fuzzy brown three-and-a-half pound puppy. She had big liquid eyes and was shy, so the name "Willow" from the Buffy character suggested itself immediately (this was before Ms. Rosenberg turned from shy geek to überwitch). They told us she was about 10 weeks old, so we counted back and declared her birthday to be something we could remember, hence the St. Patrick's Day date.
Please be assured we aren't having a canine birthday party for her, complete with doggy buddies in party hats and a special dog ice cream cake as I've seen done. Wil is spoiled in ways, but she's still a dog, and she doesn't get party hats or cuddled and called "little sweetie doggums" or the equivalent. James won't even let me buy her reindeer antlers. :-) She has to "make do with a Christmas bow.
She probably will get a nice Little Champions packaged dinner tonight--and as always wolf it down in ten seconds and then look eagerly for more.
I was thinking about the birthday party thing with some amusement because one of the guests yesterday on Dr. Phil was a woman who claimed she felt like her husband loved his dog more than her. He comes home from work and, although wife and baby son are sitting right there, the first one hubby goes to greet is Lola, the lab/pit bull mix. He snuggles with Lola in bed instead of his wife. Plus, the wife is pregnant again (so I guess there are some times Lola isn't in bed) and her nose is so sensitive that all she can smell is the dog in bed. (Dr. Phil has a beagle and part of the conversation digressed into what it was with women and the smell of dogs.)
I don't have to worry about Wil in bed; I'm allergic to her so she's banned from the bedroom. Seeing how she sleeps, though, I wouldn't want her there anyway; she'd hog the bed and make sure she got a pillow! James does greet her first, but it would be hard not to: she's usually been staking out the door for an hour waiting for him, giving deep sighs when the next car down the street isn't the truck, and is scrabbling at the glass when he enters.
Over the years, too, we've joked about changing her name. Sometimes we'd like to call her "Hilary Booth," because she's occasionally a demanding little bitch. Lately, though, she's turned into "Teeny," the little girl who always bedeviled Fibber McGee. When Wil curiously sticks her nose into something, we can almost hear her saying "Whatcha doin' mister? Whatcha. huh?"
I figure if Wil could talk she'd either sound like Marian Jordan doing Teeny or Josie Lawrence of the British version of Whose Line is It Anyway.
Please be assured we aren't having a canine birthday party for her, complete with doggy buddies in party hats and a special dog ice cream cake as I've seen done. Wil is spoiled in ways, but she's still a dog, and she doesn't get party hats or cuddled and called "little sweetie doggums" or the equivalent. James won't even let me buy her reindeer antlers. :-) She has to "make do with a Christmas bow.
She probably will get a nice Little Champions packaged dinner tonight--and as always wolf it down in ten seconds and then look eagerly for more.
I was thinking about the birthday party thing with some amusement because one of the guests yesterday on Dr. Phil was a woman who claimed she felt like her husband loved his dog more than her. He comes home from work and, although wife and baby son are sitting right there, the first one hubby goes to greet is Lola, the lab/pit bull mix. He snuggles with Lola in bed instead of his wife. Plus, the wife is pregnant again (so I guess there are some times Lola isn't in bed) and her nose is so sensitive that all she can smell is the dog in bed. (Dr. Phil has a beagle and part of the conversation digressed into what it was with women and the smell of dogs.)
I don't have to worry about Wil in bed; I'm allergic to her so she's banned from the bedroom. Seeing how she sleeps, though, I wouldn't want her there anyway; she'd hog the bed and make sure she got a pillow! James does greet her first, but it would be hard not to: she's usually been staking out the door for an hour waiting for him, giving deep sighs when the next car down the street isn't the truck, and is scrabbling at the glass when he enters.
Over the years, too, we've joked about changing her name. Sometimes we'd like to call her "Hilary Booth," because she's occasionally a demanding little bitch. Lately, though, she's turned into "Teeny," the little girl who always bedeviled Fibber McGee. When Wil curiously sticks her nose into something, we can almost hear her saying "Whatcha doin' mister? Whatcha. huh?"
I figure if Wil could talk she'd either sound like Marian Jordan doing Teeny or Josie Lawrence of the British version of Whose Line is It Anyway.
14 March 2004
Setting Sail
The Bradford pears are in full bloom now, big egg-shaped tree bodies covered with white blossoms as if they were wreathed in snow. Some of the forsythias, brilliant yellow against the still-emerging lawns, are already leafing. We've had the grass cut for the first time this year already.
I wish the Bradford blossoms were snow...it's already too warm.
So we're setting sail from Holiday Harbour, sheets abillow with the March wind. We'll be checking back from time to time on holidays and family celebrations...in the meantime
THINK FALL!
I wish the Bradford blossoms were snow...it's already too warm.
So we're setting sail from Holiday Harbour, sheets abillow with the March wind. We'll be checking back from time to time on holidays and family celebrations...in the meantime
THINK FALL!
06 March 2004
Time to Go Into Mourning...
The trees are starting to bloom. The forsythia has green shoots, pale green is showing on the Bradford pear trees, and other trees have red buds and leaves. Some of the azaleas are even blooming.
Plus this week it was 70°F here almost all week. The moment it got warm, my nose stuffed up, my sinus headaches started up, and tonight I had a coughing fit. How can I help being so negative about a season that makes me feel so wretched?
Plus last night the first mosquito of the year was buzzing around the den. Gah.
Too bad I can't just block my nose up and enjoy the colors of spring: the bright yellow of the forsythias, the snowy white of the Bradford pears, the pinks and reds and purples of the azaleas, the red buds of some of the trees, the moony glow of the white dogwoods. At least it's going to go back to being cool at night again, at least for a while. The tropical nights are the worst. I can stand almost anything as long as it's cool enough at night to sleep, and the daytime sky remains a heartbreakingly beautiful blue.
It's when the horizon turns yellow and scummy and the air is too humid to breathe that I want to hibernate until better weather comes...
Plus this week it was 70°F here almost all week. The moment it got warm, my nose stuffed up, my sinus headaches started up, and tonight I had a coughing fit. How can I help being so negative about a season that makes me feel so wretched?
Plus last night the first mosquito of the year was buzzing around the den. Gah.
Too bad I can't just block my nose up and enjoy the colors of spring: the bright yellow of the forsythias, the snowy white of the Bradford pears, the pinks and reds and purples of the azaleas, the red buds of some of the trees, the moony glow of the white dogwoods. At least it's going to go back to being cool at night again, at least for a while. The tropical nights are the worst. I can stand almost anything as long as it's cool enough at night to sleep, and the daytime sky remains a heartbreakingly beautiful blue.
It's when the horizon turns yellow and scummy and the air is too humid to breathe that I want to hibernate until better weather comes...
15 February 2004
Happy Half-Price Candy Day!
I was good. I didn't buy any. Of course I didn't go by Kroger, which had the Russell Stover low-carb candies in Valentine baskets, either. :-)
14 February 2004
Be My Valentine
We had a nice Valentine's Day, even if it rained miserably all day. We started out the day with lunch--or rather dinner, since we had the dinner portion--at Olive Garden. We went for broke: appetizers, entree and dessert (the black tie mousse cake, of course). We bought substantial parts of each of the first two home with us.
We also "did presents": I had a copy of PhotoImpact 7 and part of the price of the Lost in Space season 1 DVD set. I had bought James X-15 and The Princess Bride DVDs.
We watched X-15 after we got home from doing errands (errands still must be done on Valentine's Day). There's a domestic plot with Mary Tyler Moore, but for James the attraction is all the aircraft shots--and I think he was a bit disappointed. The movie is on DVD in widescreen, but all the shots of the aircraft in the air are distorted, as if they took a full-frame picture and stretched it sideways. As X-15 was originally made in widescreen, neither of us can figure out why this is.
X-15 is memorable to me simply because of the music. The first time James ever turned the movie on, I listened intently. "That sounds like Nathan Scott," I said, about a second before his name showed up in the credits. Nathan Scott did the music for Lassie from 1963 through 1973, and it's very distinctive; lots of violins and trumpets, and much of his score for X-15 sounds a lot like his Lassie motifs.
After that we put on Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, which we'd also picked up at Costco (along with LIS). I didn't realize it was out already and picked it up in delight. It's been a long wait between Trek DVDs as I wasn't about to pick up The Final Frontier. I might grab it if it turns up used on discount somewhere; I do like the park scene, and a couple of the quips, and of course Shatner finally getting to ask the most damn obvious question that no one ever seems to ask the so-called omnipotent being that captures their craft: "What does God need with a starship?" Unfortunately the rest of Final Frontier ain't worth the price.
We also "did presents": I had a copy of PhotoImpact 7 and part of the price of the Lost in Space season 1 DVD set. I had bought James X-15 and The Princess Bride DVDs.
We watched X-15 after we got home from doing errands (errands still must be done on Valentine's Day). There's a domestic plot with Mary Tyler Moore, but for James the attraction is all the aircraft shots--and I think he was a bit disappointed. The movie is on DVD in widescreen, but all the shots of the aircraft in the air are distorted, as if they took a full-frame picture and stretched it sideways. As X-15 was originally made in widescreen, neither of us can figure out why this is.
X-15 is memorable to me simply because of the music. The first time James ever turned the movie on, I listened intently. "That sounds like Nathan Scott," I said, about a second before his name showed up in the credits. Nathan Scott did the music for Lassie from 1963 through 1973, and it's very distinctive; lots of violins and trumpets, and much of his score for X-15 sounds a lot like his Lassie motifs.
After that we put on Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, which we'd also picked up at Costco (along with LIS). I didn't realize it was out already and picked it up in delight. It's been a long wait between Trek DVDs as I wasn't about to pick up The Final Frontier. I might grab it if it turns up used on discount somewhere; I do like the park scene, and a couple of the quips, and of course Shatner finally getting to ask the most damn obvious question that no one ever seems to ask the so-called omnipotent being that captures their craft: "What does God need with a starship?" Unfortunately the rest of Final Frontier ain't worth the price.
09 February 2004
Happy Birthday, Mom!
She is 87 today!
I sent her a big box of goodies last week: her actual birthday presents: copies of Seabiscuit and My Big Fat Greek Wedding; a birthday card and a Valentine card, and copies of the pictures we took over Christmas and New Year's.
I also sent her our old Babylon 5 tapes (seasons 1-4, anyway) since we have the series on DVD. She didn't watch the show, but she likes SF, continuing stories, and Bruce Boxleitner, so she ought to love them. I also sent her a tape set a nice friend gave me of an entire day's programming on a Washington, DC, radio station in 1939. Yet another friend had sent me the entire day on CD as an .mp3, so I thought I'd pass the tapes, which she could play, on to her. It's created a little room in the videotape cabinet, which makes me happy, and it's something she likes, which makes her happy. Everyone wins!
I sent her a big box of goodies last week: her actual birthday presents: copies of Seabiscuit and My Big Fat Greek Wedding; a birthday card and a Valentine card, and copies of the pictures we took over Christmas and New Year's.
I also sent her our old Babylon 5 tapes (seasons 1-4, anyway) since we have the series on DVD. She didn't watch the show, but she likes SF, continuing stories, and Bruce Boxleitner, so she ought to love them. I also sent her a tape set a nice friend gave me of an entire day's programming on a Washington, DC, radio station in 1939. Yet another friend had sent me the entire day on CD as an .mp3, so I thought I'd pass the tapes, which she could play, on to her. It's created a little room in the videotape cabinet, which makes me happy, and it's something she likes, which makes her happy. Everyone wins!
04 February 2004
The Yearly Complaint
It's Valentine's Day and the jewelry commercials are in full swing.
You know it's one thing if MS (male sweetheart) asks FS (female sweetheart) what she would like for Valentine's Day and she says "Oh, I'd love that little diamond pendant we saw at the jewelry store."
It's another thing for a commercial to imply that unless you buy FS a diamond, she will not know your love for you is eternal. Oh, good God. Oh, and that your love is proven by how much you spend on this bauble. I read somewhere that a woman's engagement ring is traditionally supposed to cost the equivalent of the man's monthly salary for two months. I believe the average works out to something like $4000. $4000 for a piece of pressurized coal? Are you mad? Do you know how many really useful and/or fun things you could do with $4000? My God, for that money I could get at least some of the horrid wall-to-wall carpeting out of the house and have real wood or laminate floors. Or we could have a nice vacation and even stay in NYC. And you want to waste this on jewelry?
I'm also amused by the fact that between the months of November and December, every facet of display was urging to people bake or cook something delicious (that is, when they weren't sitting down producing fifty "charming" craft projects). Wham! Walk into the bookstores on January 1 and everything's covered with dieting books and now articles are telling you how to lose weight. Lo February appears and the aisles of everywhere fill up with candy containers. (We'll have more dieting for Lent and then another chocolate surge for Easter.) No wonder people have weight problems...
You know it's one thing if MS (male sweetheart) asks FS (female sweetheart) what she would like for Valentine's Day and she says "Oh, I'd love that little diamond pendant we saw at the jewelry store."
It's another thing for a commercial to imply that unless you buy FS a diamond, she will not know your love for you is eternal. Oh, good God. Oh, and that your love is proven by how much you spend on this bauble. I read somewhere that a woman's engagement ring is traditionally supposed to cost the equivalent of the man's monthly salary for two months. I believe the average works out to something like $4000. $4000 for a piece of pressurized coal? Are you mad? Do you know how many really useful and/or fun things you could do with $4000? My God, for that money I could get at least some of the horrid wall-to-wall carpeting out of the house and have real wood or laminate floors. Or we could have a nice vacation and even stay in NYC. And you want to waste this on jewelry?
I'm also amused by the fact that between the months of November and December, every facet of display was urging to people bake or cook something delicious (that is, when they weren't sitting down producing fifty "charming" craft projects). Wham! Walk into the bookstores on January 1 and everything's covered with dieting books and now articles are telling you how to lose weight. Lo February appears and the aisles of everywhere fill up with candy containers. (We'll have more dieting for Lent and then another chocolate surge for Easter.) No wonder people have weight problems...
02 February 2004
Candlemas
Today is Candlemas, the traditional day that all the church candles for the year were blessed. It is also the last day to take down your Christmas greens.
(How the heck, I hear someone say, could you keep real Christmas greens up this long? They would have dried up by now. Well, yes, today. Remember homes didn't have central heat back then. Fresh greens in the family parlour, which was only used on holidays and perhaps Sundays, would last for a while.)
I don't have any greens, but I still do have my Christmas cards up. It's about time I took 'em down. They're so pretty it's a pity not to leave them up longer than a few weeks.
I understand General Lee didn't see his shadow, so spring is a'comin' to the South, but Punxatawny Phil the Pennyslvania guy did. Pity we can't swap forecasts. The Northeast could use an early break from the snow and I'm not looking forward to more heat, mosquitoes, and pollen everywhere, especially since I'm allergic to anything live and green out there.
Some people get massively depressed at Christmas. I've been massively depressed since Christmas was over, even before Bandit died. Now without him to have to care for and keep his spirits up, there doesn't even seem to be a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
(How the heck, I hear someone say, could you keep real Christmas greens up this long? They would have dried up by now. Well, yes, today. Remember homes didn't have central heat back then. Fresh greens in the family parlour, which was only used on holidays and perhaps Sundays, would last for a while.)
I don't have any greens, but I still do have my Christmas cards up. It's about time I took 'em down. They're so pretty it's a pity not to leave them up longer than a few weeks.
I understand General Lee didn't see his shadow, so spring is a'comin' to the South, but Punxatawny Phil the Pennyslvania guy did. Pity we can't swap forecasts. The Northeast could use an early break from the snow and I'm not looking forward to more heat, mosquitoes, and pollen everywhere, especially since I'm allergic to anything live and green out there.
Some people get massively depressed at Christmas. I've been massively depressed since Christmas was over, even before Bandit died. Now without him to have to care for and keep his spirits up, there doesn't even seem to be a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
31 January 2004
26 January 2004
The World in Shades of Pink
Valentine's Day is coming, did you know? :-)
One of the things that depresses me about the day after Christmas is that the holidays aren't even allowed to "settle." Even though there are twelve days left to the holiday and New Year's Eve and Day yet to come, the stores have already torn down everything Yuletide related, shoved it into a corner for quick sale, and by afternoon, the Valentine candy, boxes, cards, and bears are up and running. It's disconcerting.
It doesn't help that I don't like teddy bears or pink, the latter which is my bete noire. I'm the child of first-generation Italo-Americans, both born before 1920. My grandparents were not only Victorian, but ethnic Victorian, and one of the things handed down from this upbringing, almost incomprehensible in this age of primary-color children's clothing, was that small children should only wear pastel colors.
As a small child, my favorite color was red. So guess what color clothing well-meaning older relatives always stuck me with (additionally of course because the "color for girls" was pink). It began a lifelong loathing of pink, especially those salmon/brownish pinks like "dusty rose."
So there are times that Valentine's Day exploding early sets my teeth on edge. I think the worst experience was a couple of weeks ago in Target. Of course Target's colors are already red and white. They had the small girls' clothing in the front of the store and the combination of Target red and white and the feminine shades of pink with accents of lilac and lavender were enough to put my system on overload.
In any case, I was looking forward to Valentine's Day, until I found out James has to work that Saturday. Sigh. Last year I did something cute: I didn't feel like facing the restaurant crowds, desiring something more intimate. So I ordered two T-bone steaks from Ryan's, brought them home along with one of those decorated chocolate-chip cookies from the mall, and served dinner on a small table in front of the fireplace in our living room. Our own private little bistro!
One of the things that depresses me about the day after Christmas is that the holidays aren't even allowed to "settle." Even though there are twelve days left to the holiday and New Year's Eve and Day yet to come, the stores have already torn down everything Yuletide related, shoved it into a corner for quick sale, and by afternoon, the Valentine candy, boxes, cards, and bears are up and running. It's disconcerting.
It doesn't help that I don't like teddy bears or pink, the latter which is my bete noire. I'm the child of first-generation Italo-Americans, both born before 1920. My grandparents were not only Victorian, but ethnic Victorian, and one of the things handed down from this upbringing, almost incomprehensible in this age of primary-color children's clothing, was that small children should only wear pastel colors.
As a small child, my favorite color was red. So guess what color clothing well-meaning older relatives always stuck me with (additionally of course because the "color for girls" was pink). It began a lifelong loathing of pink, especially those salmon/brownish pinks like "dusty rose."
So there are times that Valentine's Day exploding early sets my teeth on edge. I think the worst experience was a couple of weeks ago in Target. Of course Target's colors are already red and white. They had the small girls' clothing in the front of the store and the combination of Target red and white and the feminine shades of pink with accents of lilac and lavender were enough to put my system on overload.
In any case, I was looking forward to Valentine's Day, until I found out James has to work that Saturday. Sigh. Last year I did something cute: I didn't feel like facing the restaurant crowds, desiring something more intimate. So I ordered two T-bone steaks from Ryan's, brought them home along with one of those decorated chocolate-chip cookies from the mall, and served dinner on a small table in front of the fireplace in our living room. Our own private little bistro!
12 January 2004
Farewell to Christmas
I had most of the decorations down and piled up in the living room by Wednesday, except for the kitchen bouquet, garland around the living room door, the door wreaths, and the tree. I took the first three down Saturday while James was at the hobby shop, and he helped me take the tree down. (It still took over an hour with the two of us.)
So everything is back in place again, the winter bouquets up, and the tree is back in the closet. Whether it comes out again next year depends on the selection of trees next year. I never did see a 6-foot tree I liked last year. The present "needles" are short, like a spruce or fir, which I like. The only 6-foot trees I saw had longer needles. Those are good garland trees, but I use silver icicles--plus I don't like Scotch-piney looking trees anyway.
Plus so many of the trees already had lights with them. I'd love to leave our lights on, but there's no basement here like we had in Rhode Island to stand the tree up in, in a corner covered with plastic wrap, until next year.
Hopefully next year will take care of next year.
The living room looks rather bleak again, even with its bright autumn leaf motif. It always does for a few weeks, anyway, until I get used to it again.
So everything is back in place again, the winter bouquets up, and the tree is back in the closet. Whether it comes out again next year depends on the selection of trees next year. I never did see a 6-foot tree I liked last year. The present "needles" are short, like a spruce or fir, which I like. The only 6-foot trees I saw had longer needles. Those are good garland trees, but I use silver icicles--plus I don't like Scotch-piney looking trees anyway.
Plus so many of the trees already had lights with them. I'd love to leave our lights on, but there's no basement here like we had in Rhode Island to stand the tree up in, in a corner covered with plastic wrap, until next year.
Hopefully next year will take care of next year.
The living room looks rather bleak again, even with its bright autumn leaf motif. It always does for a few weeks, anyway, until I get used to it again.
09 January 2004
More Christmas Books
For several years now I've seen Joe Webber's small holiday books, Christmas in My Heart, on bookshelves in December; these paperback-size hardbacks each have about a dozen Christmas short stories in them. I tried not to look at them--the going price for the darn things is $16.95 each!--so I wasn't acquainted with their content: were these modern inspirational essays or stories?
Well, Borders had the second and third books on the bargain table, $3.99 each, plus 50 percent off all Christmas books, so I bought them. I'm still not going to pay full price, but if I see books one and four at a reasonable price, I certainly will purchase them: Wheeler has gone searching through old journals, magazines, and other publications, some as early as 1910, and picked out stories, some of which he remembers hearing as a child, for these volumes. Some are from Christian publications, some from non-US sources, all of them emphasize, although Santa Claus may make a brief appearance occasionally, the joy of giving to someone rather than getting gifts and gluts of presents and little elves and reindeer.
One of the stories in the third volume, in fact, is an old-fashioned favorite of mine, "The Fir Tree Cousins," which I believe I first read in the 1921 Christmas issue of St. Nicholas. It's about a woman who could care less about giving holiday gifts and entrusts the wrapping and addressing of family presents to a friend. The friend confuses the costly trinkets she buys for her parents and siblings with the sensible gifts (thinking that people who live on a farm would only like useful gifts) she sends to her husband's "fir tree cousins" in Maine.
If you like heartwarming Christmas stories and can find these books at a reasonable price, I heartily recommend them.
Well, Borders had the second and third books on the bargain table, $3.99 each, plus 50 percent off all Christmas books, so I bought them. I'm still not going to pay full price, but if I see books one and four at a reasonable price, I certainly will purchase them: Wheeler has gone searching through old journals, magazines, and other publications, some as early as 1910, and picked out stories, some of which he remembers hearing as a child, for these volumes. Some are from Christian publications, some from non-US sources, all of them emphasize, although Santa Claus may make a brief appearance occasionally, the joy of giving to someone rather than getting gifts and gluts of presents and little elves and reindeer.
One of the stories in the third volume, in fact, is an old-fashioned favorite of mine, "The Fir Tree Cousins," which I believe I first read in the 1921 Christmas issue of St. Nicholas. It's about a woman who could care less about giving holiday gifts and entrusts the wrapping and addressing of family presents to a friend. The friend confuses the costly trinkets she buys for her parents and siblings with the sensible gifts (thinking that people who live on a farm would only like useful gifts) she sends to her husband's "fir tree cousins" in Maine.
If you like heartwarming Christmas stories and can find these books at a reasonable price, I heartily recommend them.
06 January 2004
Epiphany
I always find it hard to wind down Christmas. It's such a joyous, bright time in a season of increasing cold that it's hard to let go from. The lights are always the best part. Even staid houses that had icy looks even in July look welcoming at Christmas with a wreath upon the door and a candle in the window. As if at one point in time we are all neighbors and all welcome.
There's not even snow to keep things pretty for a while, to carpet the world with a blanket of silence and the minty breath of cold, just endless days to look forward to of rising in the dark and fighting your way to a place too brightly lit with harsh reality. The candles and the trappings of Christmas manage to soften even that, but it doesn't last long. Back to the same old music, the same old rules, the same old dreary days.
There's not even snow to keep things pretty for a while, to carpet the world with a blanket of silence and the minty breath of cold, just endless days to look forward to of rising in the dark and fighting your way to a place too brightly lit with harsh reality. The candles and the trappings of Christmas manage to soften even that, but it doesn't last long. Back to the same old music, the same old rules, the same old dreary days.
05 January 2004
As the Yule Log Burns Down
"The yule log smouldering in the hearth is like a wild beast in a cage. It comes from another world, that of wilderness and the elements. Its conflagration is a giant hourglass for the rhythms of the Christmas feast, slow-burning with the same patient unhurried sense of time that is evident in its rings of annual growth. The tree's enormous pent-up energy, released into the Christmas parlour by slow degrees, is full of the remembered warmth of spring and summer and the promise of warmer days to come. The essense of the yule log is that its pleasures should be long and slow: it must consume itself gradually, with no sudden bursts of too-passionately flame to spirit away its substance up the chimney into the cold night."
"The Everlasting Flame" by Roger Deakin
in the December 2003 issue of "Country Living."
On the Twelfth Day of Christmas...
The December issue of the British edition of "Country Living" has an article on the "12 Days of Christmas" song. The origins of the song are obscure. Ace Collins' Traditions of Christmas, as well as some others, claim that it was a secret teaching tool when Catholicism was suppressed at the time of Henry VIII and later Oliver Cromwell. The most probably origin was as a forfeit in a parlour game: the Victorians were fond of parlour games, and if you lost, you had to pay a forfeit: recite a tongue-twister correctly, for instance, or, in this case, remember all twelve items in the song.
It did have an interesting fact I'd never heard before, that the words "a partridge in a pear tree" is a possible misinterpretation of "a part of a juniper tree."
The other thing I noticed was that they mention the alternative descriptive of the "four calling birds." When I first learned the song, I also recall the line as being "four colley birds. Colley, or "coally," is a synonym for black, so those calling birds may have just been ordinary blackbirds.
"Colley," incidentally, is where the collie dog gets its name. It was renown for herding the "colley" (black-faced) Scottish sheep.
"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
"12 drummers drumming,
"11 pipers piping,
"10 lords a leaping,
"9 ladies dancing,
"8 maids a milking,
"7 swans a swimming,
'6 geese a laying,
"5 golden rings,
"4 colley birds,
"3 French hens,
"2 turtledoves,
"and a partridge in a pear tree."
It did have an interesting fact I'd never heard before, that the words "a partridge in a pear tree" is a possible misinterpretation of "a part of a juniper tree."
The other thing I noticed was that they mention the alternative descriptive of the "four calling birds." When I first learned the song, I also recall the line as being "four colley birds. Colley, or "coally," is a synonym for black, so those calling birds may have just been ordinary blackbirds.
"Colley," incidentally, is where the collie dog gets its name. It was renown for herding the "colley" (black-faced) Scottish sheep.
"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
"12 drummers drumming,
"11 pipers piping,
"10 lords a leaping,
"9 ladies dancing,
"8 maids a milking,
"7 swans a swimming,
'6 geese a laying,
"5 golden rings,
"4 colley birds,
"3 French hens,
"2 turtledoves,
"and a partridge in a pear tree."
Home to Clear River
Found this great story about Gail Rock, the creator of the Addie Mills' stories.
03 January 2004
Calm Before the Storm
But it's a good storm, our annual Twelfth Night party. It's actually being held this year on Tenth Night, but who cares? "On the Tenth Day of Christmas my true love gave to me...one party with baked chips, sugar-free candy, and diet dri3nks" [the "3" is courtesy Bandit the budgie, who leaped off the keyboard at that point]--hey, most of us are over 40 and can recite our illnesses in unison. :-)
It's been quiet here because this cold has me exhausted. I wish I would just get a fever and burn whatever it is off; my temp has wavered from 96.8 to normal, and back, mostly about 97.something, which used to indicate I was having an allergy attack. Well, if it's an allergy attack, I've had it for a week! Is there a cat hiding in the house I don't know about?
It's been quiet here because this cold has me exhausted. I wish I would just get a fever and burn whatever it is off; my temp has wavered from 96.8 to normal, and back, mostly about 97.something, which used to indicate I was having an allergy attack. Well, if it's an allergy attack, I've had it for a week! Is there a cat hiding in the house I don't know about?
01 January 2004
Tournament of Roses Parade 2004
It strikes me that one of my dreams is to see the Rose Parade in person...and I couldn't. Someone online says the one thing the television coverage doesn't give you is the wonderful scent of the flowers.
The wonderful scent of the flowers would give me an allergy attack!
This year's theme is "Music, Music." We watched bits of the pre-show and there's a Bob Hope tribute and a dragon.
Woohoo! Talk about openers: we had the theme winner, a calliope, followed by the Air Force Academy band, during which three aircraft, a F-117 Nighthawk, a B-2 Spirit, and a FA-22 Raptor, flew right over the HGTV booth (we always watch on HGTV--no damn commercials!).
The Bob Hope float was great: a giant figure of Bob surrounded by radio, film reels, television, microphones--and a suitcase, of course, stamped USO. (The Bob Hope Humor Trophy went to the float with the singing cactus...singing "Cool Water.")
The Grand Marshall this year is John Williams, who was blithely wearing his Boston Red Sox cap. He was followed by a combined school band 500+ strong, and a float called "Music of the Spheres," a lovely representation of Pythagorian theory, which was playing a John Williams theme.
The tallest float was a recreation of the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror ride, which could actually telescope (not on the route, but to get through the infamous bridge all the floats have to make it through). The competing team floats--USC and Michigan--were much cheered.
The aforementioned dragon float was awesome...the detailing alone was spectacular, plus the float was animated. Some of the organic material had to be cut and dried 36 hours before it could be glued onto the float. There were old-fashioned floats with gazebos and bridges, animal floats (Willow sniffed suspiciously at the cat float, but knew it wasn't real), wildlife floats, kid floats, toy floats, Cinderella in her coach and burst plumbing (Rot-Rooter sponsored, of course)--and even the little old lady from Pasadena, who got to really zoom down Colorado Boulevard.
And of course, horses, horses, horses--curly horses, palomino horses, horses led by Monty Roberts, horses ridden by the children of old cowboy stars, buffalo soldiers on horses, quarter horses, Andalusians, Appaloosas--all appropriate since the Tournament of Roses Parade was founded by the Valley Hunt Club.
The wonderful scent of the flowers would give me an allergy attack!
This year's theme is "Music, Music." We watched bits of the pre-show and there's a Bob Hope tribute and a dragon.
Woohoo! Talk about openers: we had the theme winner, a calliope, followed by the Air Force Academy band, during which three aircraft, a F-117 Nighthawk, a B-2 Spirit, and a FA-22 Raptor, flew right over the HGTV booth (we always watch on HGTV--no damn commercials!).
The Bob Hope float was great: a giant figure of Bob surrounded by radio, film reels, television, microphones--and a suitcase, of course, stamped USO. (The Bob Hope Humor Trophy went to the float with the singing cactus...singing "Cool Water.")
The Grand Marshall this year is John Williams, who was blithely wearing his Boston Red Sox cap. He was followed by a combined school band 500+ strong, and a float called "Music of the Spheres," a lovely representation of Pythagorian theory, which was playing a John Williams theme.
The tallest float was a recreation of the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror ride, which could actually telescope (not on the route, but to get through the infamous bridge all the floats have to make it through). The competing team floats--USC and Michigan--were much cheered.
The aforementioned dragon float was awesome...the detailing alone was spectacular, plus the float was animated. Some of the organic material had to be cut and dried 36 hours before it could be glued onto the float. There were old-fashioned floats with gazebos and bridges, animal floats (Willow sniffed suspiciously at the cat float, but knew it wasn't real), wildlife floats, kid floats, toy floats, Cinderella in her coach and burst plumbing (Rot-Rooter sponsored, of course)--and even the little old lady from Pasadena, who got to really zoom down Colorado Boulevard.
And of course, horses, horses, horses--curly horses, palomino horses, horses led by Monty Roberts, horses ridden by the children of old cowboy stars, buffalo soldiers on horses, quarter horses, Andalusians, Appaloosas--all appropriate since the Tournament of Roses Parade was founded by the Valley Hunt Club.
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