it's still winter

I'm feeling just a wee bit disoriented.

Not just because I still have this nagging head cold that refuses to move on.

It's only Tuesday. Is it not Christmas Eve yet?? I feel like I should be doing something to get ready and yet.....

The gift exchange with friends and the family Christmas were all on the weekend. I've even eaten all my portion of leftover ham and sweetpotatoes and stuffing and creamy, cheesy potatoes. It is too late to mail any cards I didn't get around to mailing (again, I am so bad at this mailing thing). And I am definitely not going out into that mad rush of frantic shoppers when I clearly do not need to.

Hmm, maybe another nice cup of tea and wild blueberry pie while I have a think of what to do next.

and watch my Amaryllis grow.

Monday AMuse

Merry Christmas

To all who celebrate Christmas in Winter

Merry Christmas

To all who celebrate Christmas in Summer

Scarlett grows a storm

Outside


Inside

a storm and a mouse

I dropped the keys on the counter.

"It'll be a bit before I can get to your car" said the mechanic, "I have to finish up this one first".

Well, no problem. The Pier One across the parking lot and the Chapters across the street were the main reasons I came to this location for the oil change and transmission flush.

"But it should be done by 3pm, for sure"

"Oh dear" says I, as I leave the cold garage and sprint across the street. That leaves only 2 hours. I can easily spend that much time and more in a bookstore.

I first checked out the gifts and shook my head at the exorbitant prices. Then I checked the status of the Moleskins, and was dismayed to see there were no day timers left. My plan may not work out after all, but there is still Indigo, and another Chapters in Oakville.

Next was a wander down the centre aisle, where I picked up books, flipped through pages, tried to think of something suitable for the last 2 people on my list. When I got to the end wall, before turning back to wander the side aisles, I noticed a large selection of the same book in several covers. Interesting, I thought. I picked up a copy. Something seemed vaguely familiar.

It took me a moment to recognize the mouse. What little of the trailers I had seen didn't look as thrilling as Ratatouille or Shrek, but I love animation, so I started to read to see what this was about. People were pushing past me and reaching over me to get to the shelves. I found a less busy corner to stand and read. Then I found a table. With a mocha something or other, I continued to read, keeping my eye on the time and the long line snaking through giftwares to the checkout. When my 2 hours was up, I left my table and joined the queue, having time to read 3 more chapters (they are very short).

A truly delightful tale.

And with a winter storm on its way, I doubt I'll be heading to any movie theatres for the opening night. Good. I have enough time to finish the book. And I think I know a 30 year old who will also enjoy the tale of mouse who loves a princess.

St Nicholas begats Santa Claus

St Nicholas was apparently a very shy bishop and and was known to travel mostly at night. Once, so a legend says, he wanted to leave some money for a family without being seen, so he dropped some coins down a chimney where they landed inside a little girl's stocking. St Nicholas, in continental Europe, became all about gift giving whereas Father Christmas, in Britain, was still about merry making and feasting.

Having the two combined, was too much for the Puritans who succeeded in having him and Christmas banned. Apparently there was an awful lot of drunkenness and overeating of mince pies and looting of houses if the merry makers were refused entry. They also didn't like that St Nicholas was a 'saint'. He seems to have survived in Northern Europe during the Reformation because he had moved beyond the Church and was so beloved. In Europe, his feast day, December 6th (or the night before), is the main gift giving time over Christmas, December 25th (or the night before). The Netherlands is the only Protestant country to maintain the legend of St Nicholas. The Puritans certainly didn't bring him along to the New World with them.

After the American Revolution, the New Yorkers who stayed, glad to be rid of the British, remembered with pride their nearly forgotten Dutch roots and made St Nicholas the city's Patron Saint. Pretty soon the satirists got into the act and caricatures and poems were appearing. St Nick, or Sinterklaas as he was affectionately called in Dutch, changed from looking saintly to a portly Dutch guy with a pipe. The poem 'Twas The Night Before Christmas' sealed the image of this un-St Nick-like Santa Claus, as did the cartoons and drawings that were based on this entirely made up tale. By the 1920's Santa's image had become more consistent and by the time Coca Cola had hired an illustrator for advertising, gift giving had become a huge phenomenon what with mass production and importing and this was just what was needed to symbolize the gift giver. He became more and more associated with commercialism and less of charity.

Father Christmas

I was looking for a funny vintage Christmas card for my Monday post ... and became sidetracked. Mostly, I got sidetracked by Santa. And Father Christmas. And St Nicholas. There are so many variations and permutations of this soul over the centuries. His image has changed greatly, from his outfits to his weight, even his attitude. The one constant seems to be his flowing white beard. It all started with my wondering about his coats of many colours - blue, purple, green, brown, red. What a fashion statement he was!

In reality they are not one and the same person.

First up: Father Christmas.

He has been around a very long time. He wasn't called Father Christmas then, of course, because he originated as a pagan figure. Don't we get all our best religious festivities from the pagans? He represented the coming of spring and appeared mid-winter wearing a long, hooded green cloak, and a wreath of holly, ivy, or mistletoe.


When the Saxons invaded, they added their own solstice tradition of Father Time (or Old Winter or King Winter as he was also known) and an old guy would be seen representing him by dressing up in a long, hooded fur cloak and wandering from house to house to be welcomed with food and drink. It was thought that if you were kind to Father Time you would get something good in return (a mild winter, perhaps? or an early spring?). Then came along the Vikings who, with their God Odin, celebrated their own mid-winter as Jultid by dressing up as one of Odin's 12 characters Jul. Odin was a little heftier than Father Time and eventually the once svelte Father Christmas becomes bigger. He changes into a blue cloak and gets to ride a horse and was claimed to have magical powers to know whether people had been bad or good, dispensing gifts to the good and punishment to the bad.
Finally, the Normans came along and brought the story of a 3rd century bishop with them. St Nick came all the way from Turkey and was especially kind to the poor and to children.
So we have a figure who evolved from one who would bless your winter to someone who paid attention to your deeds to someone who loved children.

...the story of St Nicholas and Santa Claus continues.

Monday AMuse

Amaryllis One and Two

and I haven't even watered them yet!

I had to play with the brightness and contrast so you could see the first picture more clearly. I had intended to take another when I woke up this afternoon and was shocked! to see how much they had grown in 5 hours. Which, admittedly, isn't as dramatic in the pics as in real life.

So meet Scarlett (right) and Bianca (left)