Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Saturday, December 16, 2017
Warm greetings from the Northland
To hug or not to hug: that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The clings and squeezes of joyous greeters,
Or to hold arms against a sea of babbles
And by opposing end them? To lie, to shriek.
Customs of greeting and congratulations vary across the world from a cursory acknowledgment of the presence of others to an effusive extravaganza of hugging and kissing. And, of course, the customs vary within the U.S. among families and other social groups, and even among individuals in a family or a group.
I reflected about hugging as our family gathered for Thanksgiving and I saw the photo of President Bush kissing Condoleezza Rice on the cheek to congratulate her on her nomination as Secretary of State. I thought it was a bit condescending but I will say no more; I’m not Karl Rove.
Hand-shaking on first meeting others has been a custom in Europe and America for a long time. Some insist on a firm handshake with a direct look in the eye, others give a limp hand and look elsewhere. In the recent BBC “David Copperfield”, Uriah Heep not only gave a limp handshake and looked “humble”, but people wiped their hands after shaking his.
Once Americans are familiar with one another, they generally don’t shake hands daily with the same people. On the other hand, the French shake hands on first meeting colleagues each day. I remember being at a French company in one group approaching another group in the hallway. People started shaking hands with the members of the other group. One man who had already seen me that day started to shake my hand but quickly withdrew it, saying “Déja vu (already seen).”
If Americans see an acquaintance outside of work, many shake hands on meeting. For example, people who work together and don’t shake hands each day may do so when they meet at church.
Other than business situations, hand shaking by women has changed almost exclusively to hugs, hugs even for introductions to women or men. About the time I was married, hugging seemed to done only among relatives – women hugged women, women hugged men, and men shook hands with men.
I know I shook hands with my dad and stepfather, my grandfather, my brother, and my father-in-law; and I hugged my wife, mother, mother-in-law, and sisters-in-law. Of course, I hugged my wife, and after forty-four years each hug seems more precious.
On the other hand, I dreaded seeing my mother because of her extremely emotional hugs. We moved to Europe when I was thirty and stayed six years; I came back to the U.S. only once in that time. Whenever I visited my mother after our return she would run out of the house wailing and hug me as if I been lost and gone forever. I finally had to ask her to calm down, and she did so reluctantly, making snide comments each time we met again.
I started seeing more hugs when women’s sports became more popular. The enthusiasm of the sports victory seemed to carry over to other victories or moments of pride. Women giving certificates or awards to other women didn’t shake hands anymore, they gave hugs. Then hugging became the standard greeting between women, sometimes even of the remotest acquaintance.
Now some women hug on the slightest pretext – do something moderately well and you are hugged, make a big or small mistake and you are hugged, have an unhappy event in your life and you are hugged, have a happy event in your life and you are hugged. Generally these women hug other women on these occasions but rarely other men. I may think this because I seem to be mostly in groups that are predominantly women. Hm! Women in their sixties and older don’t seem to hug as much as women in their fifties or younger.
At some time or other, many women all but stopped shaking hands with men, they hugged them. Two or more couples get together, the men shake hands with one another and the women hug everyone. Now this is where the fun begins. Just how do you hug someone of the opposite sex?
Some people bend at the waist, put one arm over the shoulder of the other, and briefly touch cheeks. It seems more like a formality than any friendly interest in the other person. Other people stand tall, put both arms around the other and squeeze chest to chest. I often wonder if some women are oblivious to what they are doing or if they are sending a message that I’m not getting.
No, I’m not a grouch about people’s enthusiasm for others. I’m not going to be cold to others who want to hug me as a greeting; I will continue to be reluctant to initiate it. On the other hand, I will initiate hugs in certain circumstances. When someone has done a good job and I am standing close, I will stand beside him or her and give a one-hand hug to his or her far shoulder. If someone has a setback or is exhausted from some task, I will put his or her head on my shoulder and put both arms around his or her back. I will give back rubs whenever needed and when my hands can still knead.
Excuse me, my wife just came home and I want to give her a good hug.
©2004, 2007 Melvyn D. Magree
Sunday, December 25, 2016
A Belated Christmas Letter (to most who sent me letters and to some who didn't)
Oh, the momentous choices! What font to use! I didn’t want to use my usual Helvetica or one that was fancy but hard to read. So I chose Kailasa, mostly because I tired of looking at all the choices. (Blogger doesn't give me this choice.)
Here I sit on Christmas Day having procrastinated for one reason or another. The last reason took over two days before I gave up.
The reason: having already put this off, I thought I had the perfect photo. It was a waist-high stump at our cabin that was coated with snow and was topped with snow that had slid to one side, giving the impression of a head. I was going to put under the picture:
I am not the grouch that stole Christmas;
I just procrastinate too much!
Problem is: I can’t find the picture! I spent two days looking at all my devices for the picture. I looked at some folders two or three times. NADA! Why do I have such a clear memory of a picture I can’t find? I am sure I saw it in front of the printer two weeks ago.
To make up for this procrastination, I am sending this by email. Otherwise, I might not get the envelopes done until next year!
So, here we sit in Duluth, wimping out on going to our cabin because of a predicted snow storm. Also we are getting leery of driving in the dark (now at five in the afternoon). About six weeks ago Jan hit a deer, in daylight but heavy shade. She looked for the deer but never found it. Her car was drivable, but it took a few days of body work.
Otherwise, it has been a usual year: fitness center, cabin, meetings, plays, concerts, and family visits: in person, by telephone, or FaceTime.
We are slowly growing older, sometimes feeling it, sometimes doing things better than we ever did before!
May your coming year be one of good health and interesting activities, even if it is only lots of good books.
P.S. A sister-in-law has already responded. She misses my fruitcake of yore. I replied that the recipe is at http://magree.blogspot.com/2014/12/fruitcake-doorstop-or-holiday-treat.html.
Here I sit on Christmas Day having procrastinated for one reason or another. The last reason took over two days before I gave up.
The reason: having already put this off, I thought I had the perfect photo. It was a waist-high stump at our cabin that was coated with snow and was topped with snow that had slid to one side, giving the impression of a head. I was going to put under the picture:
I am not the grouch that stole Christmas;
I just procrastinate too much!
Problem is: I can’t find the picture! I spent two days looking at all my devices for the picture. I looked at some folders two or three times. NADA! Why do I have such a clear memory of a picture I can’t find? I am sure I saw it in front of the printer two weeks ago.
To make up for this procrastination, I am sending this by email. Otherwise, I might not get the envelopes done until next year!
So, here we sit in Duluth, wimping out on going to our cabin because of a predicted snow storm. Also we are getting leery of driving in the dark (now at five in the afternoon). About six weeks ago Jan hit a deer, in daylight but heavy shade. She looked for the deer but never found it. Her car was drivable, but it took a few days of body work.
Otherwise, it has been a usual year: fitness center, cabin, meetings, plays, concerts, and family visits: in person, by telephone, or FaceTime.
We are slowly growing older, sometimes feeling it, sometimes doing things better than we ever did before!
May your coming year be one of good health and interesting activities, even if it is only lots of good books.
P.S. A sister-in-law has already responded. She misses my fruitcake of yore. I replied that the recipe is at http://magree.blogspot.com/2014/12/fruitcake-doorstop-or-holiday-treat.html.
Thursday, December 31, 2015
When does a new year really start?
You may be reading this just before or just after New Year’s Day, 2016. But is this really the start of a new year? Shouldn’t the New Year really start on the Winter Solstice? In 2015 this was December 22. How did our calendar put the start of the new year about ten days later?
The Roman calendar of Julius Caesar’s time was based on the lunar cycle. Many calendars of today are also based on the lunar cycle, such as the Chinese, Hebrew, Hindu, and Islamic calendars. All of these have ways of periodically resynchronizing the calendar with the solar cycle, but not necessarily in the solar year. This can result in certain holidays moving over the years from a winter holiday to a fall holiday.
Julius Caesar and several scholars reformed their calendar from a ten-month lunar cycle to a twelve month cycle. That’s how we got the last four months moved two months later than the numbers they represented: September for ninth instead of seventh, December for twelfth instead of tenth. The Romans also added an extra day to every fourth year to bring the calendar in synch with a solar year assumed to be 365.25 days long.
Even this was insufficient. Hipparchus in the Second Century B.C. calculated the solar year to be 365-1/4 days minus 1/309 days. His instruments were not that precise; he calculated this from his own and others measurements over a several year span. What is remarkable that this figure is off by six minutes per decade or ten hours per century.
Pope Gregory XIII commissioned a calendar reform in the Sixteenth Century. Essentially, this dropped leap years in years not divisible by 400. However the Julian calendar was off by ten days and they were dropped; in 1582 October 5 became October 15. As with any change of custom, this met with quite a bit of resistance. For example, peasants thought it was an attempt to cheat them out of a week and a half’s rent. Most Catholic countries adopted the Gregorian calendar within a few years; Protestant countries took decades or centuries to adopt it.
Britain (and its colonies) did so in 1752, but now British calendars were eleven days off. So, September 2 was followed by September 14. That’s why George Washington was born on February 11, 1732, but we celebrate his birthday on February 22.
The Orthodox Church did not adopt the Gregorian calendar. That is why Orthodox Christmas is on January 7 instead of December 25.
Are you having trouble figuring that out? If George Washington’s birthday was moved, why wasn’t Christmas moved? It wasn’t and it wasn’t. The Orthodox Christmas is on December 25 in the Julian calendar. But the December 25 in the Julian calendar is now January 7 in the Gregorian calendar. In other words, the adopters of the Gregorian calendar moved George Washington’s birthday, but they did not move the date of Christmas.
This column is shorter than I had planned. Reading and understanding the why’s and how’s of calendars can take a lot more time than I thought. Did the Julian calendar start with January on the winter solstice? I didn’t find any definitive statement on that. But if the Julian calendar was off by ten days in 1582, then the new January 1 would have been December 22 on the Julian calendar.
Well, I kept slogging away, and I did find an article on the solstice and January. Julius Caesar did want to start the new calendar on the solstice or the equinox, but the Senate wanted it to start on January first of the Roman civil calendar. That was when they traditionally took office. Caesar compromised.
And most politicians are still compromising. After all, “perfect is the enemy of the good.”
The Roman calendar of Julius Caesar’s time was based on the lunar cycle. Many calendars of today are also based on the lunar cycle, such as the Chinese, Hebrew, Hindu, and Islamic calendars. All of these have ways of periodically resynchronizing the calendar with the solar cycle, but not necessarily in the solar year. This can result in certain holidays moving over the years from a winter holiday to a fall holiday.
Julius Caesar and several scholars reformed their calendar from a ten-month lunar cycle to a twelve month cycle. That’s how we got the last four months moved two months later than the numbers they represented: September for ninth instead of seventh, December for twelfth instead of tenth. The Romans also added an extra day to every fourth year to bring the calendar in synch with a solar year assumed to be 365.25 days long.
Even this was insufficient. Hipparchus in the Second Century B.C. calculated the solar year to be 365-1/4 days minus 1/309 days. His instruments were not that precise; he calculated this from his own and others measurements over a several year span. What is remarkable that this figure is off by six minutes per decade or ten hours per century.
Pope Gregory XIII commissioned a calendar reform in the Sixteenth Century. Essentially, this dropped leap years in years not divisible by 400. However the Julian calendar was off by ten days and they were dropped; in 1582 October 5 became October 15. As with any change of custom, this met with quite a bit of resistance. For example, peasants thought it was an attempt to cheat them out of a week and a half’s rent. Most Catholic countries adopted the Gregorian calendar within a few years; Protestant countries took decades or centuries to adopt it.
Britain (and its colonies) did so in 1752, but now British calendars were eleven days off. So, September 2 was followed by September 14. That’s why George Washington was born on February 11, 1732, but we celebrate his birthday on February 22.
The Orthodox Church did not adopt the Gregorian calendar. That is why Orthodox Christmas is on January 7 instead of December 25.
Are you having trouble figuring that out? If George Washington’s birthday was moved, why wasn’t Christmas moved? It wasn’t and it wasn’t. The Orthodox Christmas is on December 25 in the Julian calendar. But the December 25 in the Julian calendar is now January 7 in the Gregorian calendar. In other words, the adopters of the Gregorian calendar moved George Washington’s birthday, but they did not move the date of Christmas.
This column is shorter than I had planned. Reading and understanding the why’s and how’s of calendars can take a lot more time than I thought. Did the Julian calendar start with January on the winter solstice? I didn’t find any definitive statement on that. But if the Julian calendar was off by ten days in 1582, then the new January 1 would have been December 22 on the Julian calendar.
Well, I kept slogging away, and I did find an article on the solstice and January. Julius Caesar did want to start the new calendar on the solstice or the equinox, but the Senate wanted it to start on January first of the Roman civil calendar. That was when they traditionally took office. Caesar compromised.
And most politicians are still compromising. After all, “perfect is the enemy of the good.”
Friday, December 18, 2015
The Reluctant Santa
Originally published in the Northland Reader now the Reader Weekly, December 7, 2000 as "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and he's a temp employee"
Santa Claus quit in early December, 1999. Mariner Mall called Pro Staff for a replacement. The staff looked at each other and said, “Mel!” I have white hair and a white beard.
The job was from noon to 6 everyday through the 23rd. The pay was $7.50/hour. I was not very enthusiastic but I accepted because I thought it would be an interesting experience.
When I arrived at the Mariner Mall office, I introduced myself as the Santa from Pro Staff. Grant, the manager, took me down the back halls to the back room of an empty store. The floor was littered and the small restroom had not been cleaned in months. The room had two Santa suits and wigs hanging from old display stands.
I figured out the various pieces of the outfit, stripped down to my underwear, and began putting things on. First was a stuffed front, essential for those of us with a moderate build. Next were the big red pants, and I mean big. They must have had a 60 inch waist! Pulling the drawstring as tight as I could, I just managed to get them to stay up over the false front. Then there was the big red coat with white, fake fur trim. It fit well enough, not too baggy and not too tight. To go with the coat was a wide black plastic belt.
Pro Staff had said that I should wear black shoes and I did have on a pair of black “dress” boots. The fake boots were black, lined vinyl with white fake fur around the tops and no soles. One’s own shoes peeked out from under the fake boots. Running shoes definitely would not do.
Now I was ready for the finishing touches. I have a white beard, but it is rather short and sparse so I had to use a false beard. The supplied beard was a huge frizzy thing with a moustache that covered my mouth instead of staying above my mouth. Since I have a fairly decent white moustache, I kept the false moustache below my mouth. The wig was a mass of flowing hair that was also frizzy.
Almost last was a huge red hat with white trim and a white ball dangling from the top. That hat could not be worn without the wig! Last was a pair of gold-rimmed reading glasses. They were smeared and I thought they would pinch and scrape my nose (did they ever?)
SantaI wended my way through the back halls to the main part of the mall. On my way, I went past the rest rooms, and I immediately had to get into character. As I met people in the hall, I greeted them with “Merry Christmas!” Most people reacted with cheer and a “Merry Christmas, Santa!” From my “throne” I looked out over some fake snow to a camera on a tripod, a reflector light on a stand, and three tables in a U.
Being Santa was “easy” but boring, at least in a slow place like Mariner Mall. I watched for eye contact from people passing by. If they looked at me I waved and said, “Merry Christmas.” Some people would make eye contact from thirty feet away and their faces would light up. Others didn’t seem to notice me until they were right alongside me. Yet others ignored me by looking straight ahead or at the store windows.
If a kid walked by I would say “Merry Christmas” even without eye contact. Some would shyly hide behind their parents; others would almost run to me.
The photos made my life harder. Some parents were intimidated that they had to pass by the photographers’ tables to get to Santa, even if the photographers asked, “Would you like a photo or would you just like to see Santa?” On the other hand, the possibility of photos attracted parents whose kids were afraid of Santa. A couple of parents were almost abusive trying to get the kids to sit on my lap or even to stand near me.
One thing I didn’t like was bribing the kids with candy canes to get them to come forward or to calm down. Aren’t they being taught not to accept candy from strangers?
On the other hand, there were the kids who came rushing up to get a hug. I would open up my arms and give them a big bear hug, and then go into my almost robotic spiel. “Hi, what’s your name?” “What would you like for Christmas?” “Anything else?” “We’ll see what we can do.” “Would you like a candy cane?” “Bye. Merry Christmas.”
It wasn’t all that mechanical. I kept my tone friendly and I would vary my “script” with questions about details, like how big a truck they wanted and what kind. I would extemporize with things like “Everybody wants Pokémon cards. I don’t know if the elves can print enough.” One memorable visitor was Erin, a precocious girl trying to work through her confusion of seeing Santa in different places: “When I saw you at Jubilee...”
There were three Santa substitutes who filled when I had classes at UMD and on weekends. One substitute spent two hours in the bar of the mall pizzeria before he began his shift on Sunday. I didn’t get any details on how he behaved, but the photographers were told by their manager to just pack up. A mall customer accosted them at the photo store accusing them of getting Santa fired. The Santa who replaced me the second weekend was moody. He would be very friendly and open for a couple of hours then be grouchy or withdrawn. The third substitute was almost wooden. He wouldn’t look around, he apparently didn’t relate to the kids, and he got up to take a break when there were about a dozen kids in line.
Some adults wanted to sit on my lap and I didn’t deny anybody. My first visitor was a grandmother who had a tradition of getting her picture with Santa. Several retarded adults were delighted to sit on my lap. Some adults reeked of cigarette smoke. Of course, I had to get a photo with my wife.
Almost the very last adults to sit on my lap were a reporter and cameraman from a local TV station. I was amazed at how well I winged the interview. Since we don’t have a VCR or a TV, I called a friend to ask him to tape it, but I only got to leave a message. Unfortunately, his stepfather was in the hospital and died on Christmas eve. I later purchased a copy of the segment to watch on somebody else’s TV.
There were lots of other high points like the three or four kids who asked for “Peace on Earth.” Answer: “We’ve been working on that one for a long time.”
All in all I’m glad that I did it because of the many small rewards. But I doubt that I would do it again. I don’t think the sore bottom, the itchy chin, and the waiting for the next break were worth the pay. Especially considering not much was left after I paid for the pictures, the news video, and the chocolate bars I ate on breaks.
Santa Claus quit in early December, 1999. Mariner Mall called Pro Staff for a replacement. The staff looked at each other and said, “Mel!” I have white hair and a white beard.
The job was from noon to 6 everyday through the 23rd. The pay was $7.50/hour. I was not very enthusiastic but I accepted because I thought it would be an interesting experience.
When I arrived at the Mariner Mall office, I introduced myself as the Santa from Pro Staff. Grant, the manager, took me down the back halls to the back room of an empty store. The floor was littered and the small restroom had not been cleaned in months. The room had two Santa suits and wigs hanging from old display stands.
I figured out the various pieces of the outfit, stripped down to my underwear, and began putting things on. First was a stuffed front, essential for those of us with a moderate build. Next were the big red pants, and I mean big. They must have had a 60 inch waist! Pulling the drawstring as tight as I could, I just managed to get them to stay up over the false front. Then there was the big red coat with white, fake fur trim. It fit well enough, not too baggy and not too tight. To go with the coat was a wide black plastic belt.
Pro Staff had said that I should wear black shoes and I did have on a pair of black “dress” boots. The fake boots were black, lined vinyl with white fake fur around the tops and no soles. One’s own shoes peeked out from under the fake boots. Running shoes definitely would not do.
Now I was ready for the finishing touches. I have a white beard, but it is rather short and sparse so I had to use a false beard. The supplied beard was a huge frizzy thing with a moustache that covered my mouth instead of staying above my mouth. Since I have a fairly decent white moustache, I kept the false moustache below my mouth. The wig was a mass of flowing hair that was also frizzy.
Almost last was a huge red hat with white trim and a white ball dangling from the top. That hat could not be worn without the wig! Last was a pair of gold-rimmed reading glasses. They were smeared and I thought they would pinch and scrape my nose (did they ever?)
SantaI wended my way through the back halls to the main part of the mall. On my way, I went past the rest rooms, and I immediately had to get into character. As I met people in the hall, I greeted them with “Merry Christmas!” Most people reacted with cheer and a “Merry Christmas, Santa!” From my “throne” I looked out over some fake snow to a camera on a tripod, a reflector light on a stand, and three tables in a U.
Being Santa was “easy” but boring, at least in a slow place like Mariner Mall. I watched for eye contact from people passing by. If they looked at me I waved and said, “Merry Christmas.” Some people would make eye contact from thirty feet away and their faces would light up. Others didn’t seem to notice me until they were right alongside me. Yet others ignored me by looking straight ahead or at the store windows.
If a kid walked by I would say “Merry Christmas” even without eye contact. Some would shyly hide behind their parents; others would almost run to me.
The photos made my life harder. Some parents were intimidated that they had to pass by the photographers’ tables to get to Santa, even if the photographers asked, “Would you like a photo or would you just like to see Santa?” On the other hand, the possibility of photos attracted parents whose kids were afraid of Santa. A couple of parents were almost abusive trying to get the kids to sit on my lap or even to stand near me.
One thing I didn’t like was bribing the kids with candy canes to get them to come forward or to calm down. Aren’t they being taught not to accept candy from strangers?
On the other hand, there were the kids who came rushing up to get a hug. I would open up my arms and give them a big bear hug, and then go into my almost robotic spiel. “Hi, what’s your name?” “What would you like for Christmas?” “Anything else?” “We’ll see what we can do.” “Would you like a candy cane?” “Bye. Merry Christmas.”
It wasn’t all that mechanical. I kept my tone friendly and I would vary my “script” with questions about details, like how big a truck they wanted and what kind. I would extemporize with things like “Everybody wants Pokémon cards. I don’t know if the elves can print enough.” One memorable visitor was Erin, a precocious girl trying to work through her confusion of seeing Santa in different places: “When I saw you at Jubilee...”
There were three Santa substitutes who filled when I had classes at UMD and on weekends. One substitute spent two hours in the bar of the mall pizzeria before he began his shift on Sunday. I didn’t get any details on how he behaved, but the photographers were told by their manager to just pack up. A mall customer accosted them at the photo store accusing them of getting Santa fired. The Santa who replaced me the second weekend was moody. He would be very friendly and open for a couple of hours then be grouchy or withdrawn. The third substitute was almost wooden. He wouldn’t look around, he apparently didn’t relate to the kids, and he got up to take a break when there were about a dozen kids in line.
Some adults wanted to sit on my lap and I didn’t deny anybody. My first visitor was a grandmother who had a tradition of getting her picture with Santa. Several retarded adults were delighted to sit on my lap. Some adults reeked of cigarette smoke. Of course, I had to get a photo with my wife.
Almost the very last adults to sit on my lap were a reporter and cameraman from a local TV station. I was amazed at how well I winged the interview. Since we don’t have a VCR or a TV, I called a friend to ask him to tape it, but I only got to leave a message. Unfortunately, his stepfather was in the hospital and died on Christmas eve. I later purchased a copy of the segment to watch on somebody else’s TV.
There were lots of other high points like the three or four kids who asked for “Peace on Earth.” Answer: “We’ve been working on that one for a long time.”
All in all I’m glad that I did it because of the many small rewards. But I doubt that I would do it again. I don’t think the sore bottom, the itchy chin, and the waiting for the next break were worth the pay. Especially considering not much was left after I paid for the pictures, the news video, and the chocolate bars I ate on breaks.
Thursday, December 17, 2015
‘Tis the season of beginnings
Originally published in the Reader Weekly. December 20, 2007
This year, 2007, the winter solstice will arrive on December 22 at 6:08 a.m. UCT (Coordinated Universal Time or Greenwich Mean Time). That means it will arrive in Duluth about midnight between December 21 and 22. From this time we will have more daylight hours each day than nighttime hours. This in and of itself is a reason to rejoice.
But such precision was not available to our ancestors. As the days grew shorter, our earliest ancestors couldn’t be sure that the sun would come back. They resorted to magic to ensure that the spirits would return the sun to them. They lit fires to guide the sun and they sacrificed beasts and people to appease the spirits.
Increased astronomical knowledge helped predict when the solstice would occur. Stonehenge is one early astronomical clock; archeologists have uncovered others in Europe and the Americas. However, the rituals and the festivals persisted. Hey, who wants to give up a good party?
The parties weren’t always good for everybody. According to some, a man chosen to be the god-king Dionysus, the god of wine, had a pretty good party attended by lots of women. Then the women tore him apart and ate him. Of course, he was reborn for the next cycle of seasons.
If you have a week or two to spare, look up “winter solstice” on the web, adding various qualifiers as you go. You will find a large assortment of fascinating information. You will find that the winter solstice is often linked to festivals of light or the cycle of death and rebirth. One I found interesting was “Winter Solstice Celebrations”.
As calendars were invented, many started on the solar year, that is, the winter solstice. Others started at the summer solstice or the equinoxes. Because the earth doesn’t travel around the sun in an integral number of days, the first day of solar calendars moved away from the solstices or the equinoxes. January in the Roman calendar, named for the two-faced god Janus, moved away from the equinox.
Solar “drift” wasn’t the only reason calendars changed. The Romans jiggered their calendar many times, sometimes for political reasons. July and August (Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus) are two prime examples, giving us the seventh month (September) as the ninth month, and so on to the tenth month (December) as the twelfth. At one time the Romans celebrated the new year in March.
A good example of calendar drift is the different dates for Western and Eastern Christmas. The western churches celebrate Christmas on December 25. The Eastern Orthodox churches also celebrate Christmas on December 25, but on a different calendar. December 25 on the Julian calendar is now January 7 on the Gregorian calendar: the one commonly used in most of the world.
Why December 25 for Christmas? The web is full of various stories about this. One is that it was to replace the pagan festival of Mithra, a god who was born in a similar story. Another is that it was believed that prophets died on the same day of the year that they were conceived. Assuming the death of Jesus was on March 25, then he would have been conceived on March 25; thus, he was born on December 25.
Holidays never wind up as desired by those who initiate them. They take on aspects of other traditions, either similar or coincidental in time. The Saturnalia was a big Roman holiday around the winter solstice with much feasting and gift giving. These have been attached to the Christmas festivities. Saint Nicholas, of gift-giving fame, died on December 6, 343. In an attempt to revive some of the Dutch history of New York, Washington Irving wrote “Knickerbocker’s History of New York” in which the saintly bishop became an elfin Dutch burgher. See “Saint Nicholas and the Origin of Santa Claus” for more details.
The “codification” of gift-giving in the person of Santa Claus has led to what some call the “commercialization” of Christmas. So what’s new? I looked forward to the toy catalogues over sixty years ago; and boys and girls looked forward to the winter Sears catalogue decades before that. What I find ironic is some of the same people who decry the “commercialization” of Christmas want the government to create more jobs. There certainly are plenty of jobs available at Christmas, and Christmas sales keep many a business afloat for the rest of the year.
If you would like to explore the mythic and religious basis for many of our customs, read The Golden Bough by James George Frazer. If you don’t want to read the twelve volumes of the third edition, read the abridged version by Robert Fraser.
Whatever your thoughts about solstices and religious ceremonies, may the new year bring you health, joy and prosperity.
This year, 2007, the winter solstice will arrive on December 22 at 6:08 a.m. UCT (Coordinated Universal Time or Greenwich Mean Time). That means it will arrive in Duluth about midnight between December 21 and 22. From this time we will have more daylight hours each day than nighttime hours. This in and of itself is a reason to rejoice.
But such precision was not available to our ancestors. As the days grew shorter, our earliest ancestors couldn’t be sure that the sun would come back. They resorted to magic to ensure that the spirits would return the sun to them. They lit fires to guide the sun and they sacrificed beasts and people to appease the spirits.
Increased astronomical knowledge helped predict when the solstice would occur. Stonehenge is one early astronomical clock; archeologists have uncovered others in Europe and the Americas. However, the rituals and the festivals persisted. Hey, who wants to give up a good party?
The parties weren’t always good for everybody. According to some, a man chosen to be the god-king Dionysus, the god of wine, had a pretty good party attended by lots of women. Then the women tore him apart and ate him. Of course, he was reborn for the next cycle of seasons.
If you have a week or two to spare, look up “winter solstice” on the web, adding various qualifiers as you go. You will find a large assortment of fascinating information. You will find that the winter solstice is often linked to festivals of light or the cycle of death and rebirth. One I found interesting was “Winter Solstice Celebrations”.
As calendars were invented, many started on the solar year, that is, the winter solstice. Others started at the summer solstice or the equinoxes. Because the earth doesn’t travel around the sun in an integral number of days, the first day of solar calendars moved away from the solstices or the equinoxes. January in the Roman calendar, named for the two-faced god Janus, moved away from the equinox.
Solar “drift” wasn’t the only reason calendars changed. The Romans jiggered their calendar many times, sometimes for political reasons. July and August (Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus) are two prime examples, giving us the seventh month (September) as the ninth month, and so on to the tenth month (December) as the twelfth. At one time the Romans celebrated the new year in March.
A good example of calendar drift is the different dates for Western and Eastern Christmas. The western churches celebrate Christmas on December 25. The Eastern Orthodox churches also celebrate Christmas on December 25, but on a different calendar. December 25 on the Julian calendar is now January 7 on the Gregorian calendar: the one commonly used in most of the world.
Why December 25 for Christmas? The web is full of various stories about this. One is that it was to replace the pagan festival of Mithra, a god who was born in a similar story. Another is that it was believed that prophets died on the same day of the year that they were conceived. Assuming the death of Jesus was on March 25, then he would have been conceived on March 25; thus, he was born on December 25.
Holidays never wind up as desired by those who initiate them. They take on aspects of other traditions, either similar or coincidental in time. The Saturnalia was a big Roman holiday around the winter solstice with much feasting and gift giving. These have been attached to the Christmas festivities. Saint Nicholas, of gift-giving fame, died on December 6, 343. In an attempt to revive some of the Dutch history of New York, Washington Irving wrote “Knickerbocker’s History of New York” in which the saintly bishop became an elfin Dutch burgher. See “Saint Nicholas and the Origin of Santa Claus” for more details.
The “codification” of gift-giving in the person of Santa Claus has led to what some call the “commercialization” of Christmas. So what’s new? I looked forward to the toy catalogues over sixty years ago; and boys and girls looked forward to the winter Sears catalogue decades before that. What I find ironic is some of the same people who decry the “commercialization” of Christmas want the government to create more jobs. There certainly are plenty of jobs available at Christmas, and Christmas sales keep many a business afloat for the rest of the year.
If you would like to explore the mythic and religious basis for many of our customs, read The Golden Bough by James George Frazer. If you don’t want to read the twelve volumes of the third edition, read the abridged version by Robert Fraser.
Whatever your thoughts about solstices and religious ceremonies, may the new year bring you health, joy and prosperity.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Christmas! Ah Funbug!
Originally published in Reader Weekly, December 23, 2004
During the holiday season I often ponder the complaints of the “commercialization of Christmas”. In my usual contrarian fashion I take them with a grain of salt. First of all, some seem to think that this commercialization is a new phenomenon and yearn for another time, a simpler time. If that time existed, it was long, long ago. Over fifty years ago one of my Christmas joys was to look at all the toy catalogs. I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere near my heart’s desires, but it was just a delight to read Lionel’s latest catalog, to see what science kits the department stores had, what whiz-bang airplanes, cars, and trucks were coming out, and on and on and on.
“Commercialization” of holidays goes way beyond the last century; it goes back millennia. The most well known in Western culture are the sellers of sacrificial animals and the moneychangers at the temple in Jerusalem. Our lore has them as the lowest of the low. But they were only providing services to meet the needs of the worshipers. Not every city dweller had a dove in the cote and a lamb out back to sacrifice at the temple. If a worshiper felt he had to make a sacrifice, he had to buy it from somebody else. Similarly, donations of money could not be made in Roman coin; they had to be made in Judaic money, not sisterces but mites and shekels. Somebody had to exchange the money, and those changers were not going to sit at the temple all day for free. The animal sellers and the moneychangers didn’t create the situation that required their services; they only took advantage of it to make a living.
Similarly, in our time, the merchants who offer so many goods and services with such lavish ads didn’t create the idea of gift giving at Christmas, but they are taking advantage of the desire of many people to give gifts. Shall the hardware store ignore the season and let the bookstore get all the Christmas business? The hardware store has to take out ads and say, “Here we are! We have some things you could give as gifts.” Just like all the ads throughout the year, we have to pick and choose which to respond to according to our budget and wants. My gosh, I’d be a blimp if I responded to all the candy ads.
And gift giving at this time of year is not confined to Western culture. Dewali is the Hindu feast of light; Indian newspapers are filled with ads for Dewali gifts and Indian electronics stores have their peak season. The Japanese give New Year’s gifts. Other cultures have other lavish celebrations of an important time of year – the return of light after the long darkness. And this goes back beyond the moneychangers at the Temple.
People celebrated this time with huge bonfires and feasts. With the return of light, they had a better idea of how long their food would last. If there seemed to be a surplus, they could indulge themselves. As agriculture became more productive, this wealth became more predictable. As people had more wealth (that is surplus), they could share with friends and relatives. Somewhere along the way, giving gifts at the winter solstice became tradition, and like all traditions it became quite complicated. So complicated that we now call it “commercialization”.
But you can make it simpler for yourself by how you approach gift giving. If you have a skill, you can give gifts that you make yourself. I give fruitcake to some of my relatives because I inherited a good recipe from my mother. They look forward to it, really! Now it does cost a bit of money for the ingredients, but what I am really giving is my time. Time my relatives wouldn’t have to spend to make this treat.
Even if you don’t make the gifts yourself, you still are giving your time. You are giving your time to think of what the recipients would like, the time to find where it is available, and the time to actually purchase it. Admit it, you are really delighted to get a CD of a group you hadn’t heard of but you listen to it again and again. Or you love that tool or kitchen gadget that you really wanted but never took the time to buy. Deep down, we feel good when someone appreciates what we have done for them, and we appreciate the things that others do for us. And that is called the Christmas spirit.
During the holiday season I often ponder the complaints of the “commercialization of Christmas”. In my usual contrarian fashion I take them with a grain of salt. First of all, some seem to think that this commercialization is a new phenomenon and yearn for another time, a simpler time. If that time existed, it was long, long ago. Over fifty years ago one of my Christmas joys was to look at all the toy catalogs. I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere near my heart’s desires, but it was just a delight to read Lionel’s latest catalog, to see what science kits the department stores had, what whiz-bang airplanes, cars, and trucks were coming out, and on and on and on.
“Commercialization” of holidays goes way beyond the last century; it goes back millennia. The most well known in Western culture are the sellers of sacrificial animals and the moneychangers at the temple in Jerusalem. Our lore has them as the lowest of the low. But they were only providing services to meet the needs of the worshipers. Not every city dweller had a dove in the cote and a lamb out back to sacrifice at the temple. If a worshiper felt he had to make a sacrifice, he had to buy it from somebody else. Similarly, donations of money could not be made in Roman coin; they had to be made in Judaic money, not sisterces but mites and shekels. Somebody had to exchange the money, and those changers were not going to sit at the temple all day for free. The animal sellers and the moneychangers didn’t create the situation that required their services; they only took advantage of it to make a living.
Similarly, in our time, the merchants who offer so many goods and services with such lavish ads didn’t create the idea of gift giving at Christmas, but they are taking advantage of the desire of many people to give gifts. Shall the hardware store ignore the season and let the bookstore get all the Christmas business? The hardware store has to take out ads and say, “Here we are! We have some things you could give as gifts.” Just like all the ads throughout the year, we have to pick and choose which to respond to according to our budget and wants. My gosh, I’d be a blimp if I responded to all the candy ads.
And gift giving at this time of year is not confined to Western culture. Dewali is the Hindu feast of light; Indian newspapers are filled with ads for Dewali gifts and Indian electronics stores have their peak season. The Japanese give New Year’s gifts. Other cultures have other lavish celebrations of an important time of year – the return of light after the long darkness. And this goes back beyond the moneychangers at the Temple.
People celebrated this time with huge bonfires and feasts. With the return of light, they had a better idea of how long their food would last. If there seemed to be a surplus, they could indulge themselves. As agriculture became more productive, this wealth became more predictable. As people had more wealth (that is surplus), they could share with friends and relatives. Somewhere along the way, giving gifts at the winter solstice became tradition, and like all traditions it became quite complicated. So complicated that we now call it “commercialization”.
But you can make it simpler for yourself by how you approach gift giving. If you have a skill, you can give gifts that you make yourself. I give fruitcake to some of my relatives because I inherited a good recipe from my mother. They look forward to it, really! Now it does cost a bit of money for the ingredients, but what I am really giving is my time. Time my relatives wouldn’t have to spend to make this treat.
Even if you don’t make the gifts yourself, you still are giving your time. You are giving your time to think of what the recipients would like, the time to find where it is available, and the time to actually purchase it. Admit it, you are really delighted to get a CD of a group you hadn’t heard of but you listen to it again and again. Or you love that tool or kitchen gadget that you really wanted but never took the time to buy. Deep down, we feel good when someone appreciates what we have done for them, and we appreciate the things that others do for us. And that is called the Christmas spirit.
Ebenezer Scrooge lives on
Originally published in the Northland Reader
now the Reader Weekly
December 21, 2000
Ebenezer Scrooge lives on in many forms with no hope of redemption. One form is the cold-water Scrooge who dislikes the “commercialization” of Christmas. This Scrooge complains about all the ads and displays enticing people to buy, buy, buy...
But nobody is forcing us to buy, buy, buy... We don’t even have to shop, shop, shop... I did almost all my shopping with two stops at a book store. One to order books for everyone on my list and one to pick them up. I also bake fruit cake, using my mother’s recipe, for friends and relatives. For the ingredients I did have to shop, shop, shop... No single store had them all.
Of course, all the ads get kids all dreamy and greedy. “I want a Rowdy Rodeo Rider!” “I want a CD by BD and QT.” But parents don’t have to acquiesce to every wish. The simple rule we had was one gift per kid from Santa and one gift from each parent. Once they outgrew Santa we just went to the one gift from each parent. Of course, this was not iron-clad. If we found something interesting we might add it to the list.
I’ll grant that all the ads and displays seem excessive. In November and December we probably put three times more newspaper immediately into the recycle pile than in any other months. Merchants put a Christmas spin on almost any product - toys or tools, food or fiction, books or looks. Even hardware stores have a visit from Santa.
How did our society get so “commercial” about a religious holiday? Did merchants make it commercial or did we “ask” merchants to satisfy our desires?
“Commercializing” religious holidays or religion is nothing new. Jesus drove the money-changers and the sellers of sacrificial animals out of the temple. Many old churches have sellers of souvenirs and religious goods outside their doors. Scrooge sent a boy to a store on Christmas day to buy a goose for the Cratchit’s dinner.
Rather than “commercialization” being the result of merchants trying to sell us all manner of goods, isn’t it the result of our desire to give (and get) gifts at an ancient holiday? Our desire to give gifts is rooted in a longer history than a single holiday. The “gods” gave humans the gifts of fire and agriculture. We humans gave gods gifts to sway their actions in their favor. We humans gave gifts to stand-ins for gods. And finally, we gave gifts to each other to mimic the giving of gifts to the gods.
We also gave gifts to those in need. Many religions celebrate the givers of gifts to those in need. Christian tradition celebrates St. Nicholas, a fourth century bishop in Myra (which is now part of Turkey). Nicholas is best known for giving dowries for the daughters of a rich man who had lost his fortune. The dowries of three hundred gold pieces to each daughter were themselves small fortunes.
Excessive gift-giving as part of the winter solstice did not start with capitalism. In one country gift-giving became such a problem that the government made a law that richer people could give gifts only to those less well-off than themselves. The government: Rome. The festival: Saturnalia.
Excessive gift-giving as part of the winter solstice is not limited to western traditions. In one country, merchants lure their customers with attractive discounts and the customers go on a spending spree. The country: India. The festival: Diwali.
Another excess modern Scrooges complain about is lighting the outside of houses with thousands of lights. I don’t agree with those who say that all the lights are part of the Christmas spirit, assuming the strictly religious one of redemption and of charity. I do agree that the lights are part of the spirit of the solstice, the notion of bringing back the sun with bonfires, fire crackers, candles, oil lamps, and little twinkling electric bulbs.
In many places and times the spirit of the solstice included the celebration of the birth or rebirth of the sun god long before Christianity - from Egypt to Thailand, from Japan to Scandinavia, from Mexico to the Arctic. The celebrations included quiet reflection and rowdy feasts, family gatherings and week-long or month-long community festivals.
If we consider this wide range of celebrations, we will find it easier to celebrate in our own way Christmas or Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Diwali, or one of the many other names and dates for the winter solstice. We shouldn’t feel we have to celebrate any particular one, or several, out of “respect” for others.
However you celebrate the winter solstice, don’t let the Scrooges get you down. If you want to give a lot of gifts or have a big party, go ahead without feeling guilty. Just don’t keep me awake and don’t drive home drunk. If you want to have a quiet time of reflection and prayer, go ahead without feeling pressured. Just don’t tell me that my way is “wrong”. If I greet you with “Merry Christmas”, feel free to return the greeting with “Happy Hanukkah”. What we all are really doing and saying is that we believe life will improve and the weather will get warmer.
now the Reader Weekly
December 21, 2000
Ebenezer Scrooge lives on in many forms with no hope of redemption. One form is the cold-water Scrooge who dislikes the “commercialization” of Christmas. This Scrooge complains about all the ads and displays enticing people to buy, buy, buy...
But nobody is forcing us to buy, buy, buy... We don’t even have to shop, shop, shop... I did almost all my shopping with two stops at a book store. One to order books for everyone on my list and one to pick them up. I also bake fruit cake, using my mother’s recipe, for friends and relatives. For the ingredients I did have to shop, shop, shop... No single store had them all.
Of course, all the ads get kids all dreamy and greedy. “I want a Rowdy Rodeo Rider!” “I want a CD by BD and QT.” But parents don’t have to acquiesce to every wish. The simple rule we had was one gift per kid from Santa and one gift from each parent. Once they outgrew Santa we just went to the one gift from each parent. Of course, this was not iron-clad. If we found something interesting we might add it to the list.
I’ll grant that all the ads and displays seem excessive. In November and December we probably put three times more newspaper immediately into the recycle pile than in any other months. Merchants put a Christmas spin on almost any product - toys or tools, food or fiction, books or looks. Even hardware stores have a visit from Santa.
How did our society get so “commercial” about a religious holiday? Did merchants make it commercial or did we “ask” merchants to satisfy our desires?
“Commercializing” religious holidays or religion is nothing new. Jesus drove the money-changers and the sellers of sacrificial animals out of the temple. Many old churches have sellers of souvenirs and religious goods outside their doors. Scrooge sent a boy to a store on Christmas day to buy a goose for the Cratchit’s dinner.
Rather than “commercialization” being the result of merchants trying to sell us all manner of goods, isn’t it the result of our desire to give (and get) gifts at an ancient holiday? Our desire to give gifts is rooted in a longer history than a single holiday. The “gods” gave humans the gifts of fire and agriculture. We humans gave gods gifts to sway their actions in their favor. We humans gave gifts to stand-ins for gods. And finally, we gave gifts to each other to mimic the giving of gifts to the gods.
We also gave gifts to those in need. Many religions celebrate the givers of gifts to those in need. Christian tradition celebrates St. Nicholas, a fourth century bishop in Myra (which is now part of Turkey). Nicholas is best known for giving dowries for the daughters of a rich man who had lost his fortune. The dowries of three hundred gold pieces to each daughter were themselves small fortunes.
Excessive gift-giving as part of the winter solstice did not start with capitalism. In one country gift-giving became such a problem that the government made a law that richer people could give gifts only to those less well-off than themselves. The government: Rome. The festival: Saturnalia.
Excessive gift-giving as part of the winter solstice is not limited to western traditions. In one country, merchants lure their customers with attractive discounts and the customers go on a spending spree. The country: India. The festival: Diwali.
Another excess modern Scrooges complain about is lighting the outside of houses with thousands of lights. I don’t agree with those who say that all the lights are part of the Christmas spirit, assuming the strictly religious one of redemption and of charity. I do agree that the lights are part of the spirit of the solstice, the notion of bringing back the sun with bonfires, fire crackers, candles, oil lamps, and little twinkling electric bulbs.
In many places and times the spirit of the solstice included the celebration of the birth or rebirth of the sun god long before Christianity - from Egypt to Thailand, from Japan to Scandinavia, from Mexico to the Arctic. The celebrations included quiet reflection and rowdy feasts, family gatherings and week-long or month-long community festivals.
If we consider this wide range of celebrations, we will find it easier to celebrate in our own way Christmas or Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Diwali, or one of the many other names and dates for the winter solstice. We shouldn’t feel we have to celebrate any particular one, or several, out of “respect” for others.
However you celebrate the winter solstice, don’t let the Scrooges get you down. If you want to give a lot of gifts or have a big party, go ahead without feeling guilty. Just don’t keep me awake and don’t drive home drunk. If you want to have a quiet time of reflection and prayer, go ahead without feeling pressured. Just don’t tell me that my way is “wrong”. If I greet you with “Merry Christmas”, feel free to return the greeting with “Happy Hanukkah”. What we all are really doing and saying is that we believe life will improve and the weather will get warmer.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Christmas blog links
This entry is a placeholder for links to some of my previous articles on Christmas. I will add those links as I post those articles here.
A Note from Scrooge 2015-12-17 Reader Weekly
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/a-note-from-scrooge.html
Ghosts of Christmases Past 2014-12-25
http://magree.blogspot.com/2014/12/ghosts-of-christmases-past.html
Fruitcake 2005-12-08 Reader Weekly
http://magree.blogspot.com/2014/12/fruitcake-doorstop-or-holiday-treat.html
Julbord or Christmas Smörgåsbord 2006-12-21
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/julbord-or-christmas-smorgasbord
Ebenezer Scrooge Lives On 2000-12-21
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/ebenezer-scrooge-lives-on.html
Christmas! Ah Funbug! 2004-12-23
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/christmas-ah-funbug.html
'Tis the Season of New Beginnings 2007-12-20
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/tis-season-of-beginnings.html
Reluctant Santa, 2000-12-07
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-reluctant-santa.html
Merry Christmas and other seasonal thoughts 2005-12-22
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/merry-christmas-and-other-seasonal.html
A Note from Scrooge 2015-12-17 Reader Weekly
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/a-note-from-scrooge.html
Ghosts of Christmases Past 2014-12-25
http://magree.blogspot.com/2014/12/ghosts-of-christmases-past.html
Fruitcake 2005-12-08 Reader Weekly
http://magree.blogspot.com/2014/12/fruitcake-doorstop-or-holiday-treat.html
Julbord or Christmas Smörgåsbord 2006-12-21
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/julbord-or-christmas-smorgasbord
Ebenezer Scrooge Lives On 2000-12-21
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/ebenezer-scrooge-lives-on.html
Christmas! Ah Funbug! 2004-12-23
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/christmas-ah-funbug.html
'Tis the Season of New Beginnings 2007-12-20
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/tis-season-of-beginnings.html
Reluctant Santa, 2000-12-07
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-reluctant-santa.html
Merry Christmas and other seasonal thoughts 2005-12-22
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/merry-christmas-and-other-seasonal.html
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Julbord or Christmas Smörgåsbord
I hope the printer got my title spelled correctly.
Smörgåsbord should have two dots over the first “o” and a
circle over the “a”. It is surprising, in a state with so many
“Swedes”, the number of newspapers that can’t print Swedish properly,
especially since personal computers have been able to do so for over
twenty years, right out of the box. [The printer did get the spelling
correct.]
Pet peeve one out of the way. Now on to pet peeve two. I bet many of you think a smörgåsbord is a pile-all-you-can-on-your-plate buffet – meatballs on top of beets scrunched up against mashed potatoes buried under a chicken wing sticking into onion rings surrounding olives covering a slice of ham or two.
Nej, nej, nej! No, no, no! A smörgåsbord is a buffet but one you approach with a plan for a long meal of complementary dishes. You take what you want of certain foods, eat them with bread, cheese, beer, and snaps, go get a clean plate to serve yourself the same or different foods, and repeat until you are satisfied.
What’s snaps? It rhymes with schnapps and is alcoholic but not sweet. Snaps include aquavit and vodka. My favorite liquor store used to have five kinds of aquavit, but now only has three. I prefer the Norwegian and Swedish aquavits to the Danish.
According to Tore Wretman (1) one makes five visits to the smörgåsbord, taking from a different group of foods each time. These are:
To give you some idea of what is included in a smörgåsbord, I’ll tell you what we have at our house. But first let me give you a little history.
When we lived in the Twin Cities, we decided in the late 70s to do a julbord for some friends. We did it for a couple of years until one couple hadn’t even left their house when we were ready to start and one woman’s preschooler bumped her into a stack of good plates (they wouldn’t get a babysitter). We took it up again in a later year but only for the immediate family. It became such a custom that our children as adults expect it. I lost interest one year when the grandkids didn’t touch much more than bread and dessert. The family persisted and the adult grandkid now expects it.
So, we blew a wad at the supermarket today for some of the stuff, and I’ve searched my computer for previous year’s menus. For the most part, we try to have three main things for each round along with three side offerings.
Sill: We have served herring in cream sauce. I’ve also served the pickled herring in mustard sauce and in layers in a glass jar. The layers are herring, sliced carrots, and red onion rings. This year we might try smoked herring also. We also serve potatoes boiled with dill, homemade limpa (Swedish rye), hard bread, and cheese (Jarlsberg, Emmantaler, and Gouda).
Fish: I’ve poached a couple of trout or a salmon filet with dill, bay leaf, carrots, and onions. We generally have lots of cooked shrimp and my wife makes a crab salad. My old lists have only olives as an accompaniment beyond more potatoes, bread, and cheese
Cold meats: We always have sliced ham. My wife makes deviled eggs and I make a special liver paste. I get the finest grind Braunschweiger (liver sausage) I can find and mix in brandy and whipping cream until it can be served with a spoon. We often put pickles, red cabbage salad, and sliced tomatoes besides these dishes.
Warm dishes: My wife does meatballs that include veal, beef, and pork. She based it on Wretman’s recipe; he wrote that his readers’ mothers, grandmothers, and aunts might disagree with his version. She also does a plum-packed pork loin. We buy small wiener-like sausages to satisfy our daughter’s request for prinskorv. We serve beets, lingon, and celery at the side.
Dessert: Pepparkakor (ginger cookies), of course. We have also included pears, grapes, applesauce, or almonds. We are generally too tired to think of any other prepared desserts. Besides, who but our son with his “dessert reserve” has any room for more?
After reading this, I hope you realize that Swedish food is not all white and bland. A good smörgåsbord is an array of bright colors and many flavors.
Så, till bords, skål, god aptit, God Jul och Gott Nytt År (so, to the table, skål, good appetite, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year).
(1) Svensk Husmanskost, Tore Wretman, Forum, Stockholm, 1967. Originally husmanskost meant plain food for the servants, but I won’t try to translate its modern meanings. Wretman took seven pages to do so.
Originally published in Reader Weekly December 21, 2006.
See also Christmas blog links
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/christmas-blog-links.html
Pet peeve one out of the way. Now on to pet peeve two. I bet many of you think a smörgåsbord is a pile-all-you-can-on-your-plate buffet – meatballs on top of beets scrunched up against mashed potatoes buried under a chicken wing sticking into onion rings surrounding olives covering a slice of ham or two.
Nej, nej, nej! No, no, no! A smörgåsbord is a buffet but one you approach with a plan for a long meal of complementary dishes. You take what you want of certain foods, eat them with bread, cheese, beer, and snaps, go get a clean plate to serve yourself the same or different foods, and repeat until you are satisfied.
What’s snaps? It rhymes with schnapps and is alcoholic but not sweet. Snaps include aquavit and vodka. My favorite liquor store used to have five kinds of aquavit, but now only has three. I prefer the Norwegian and Swedish aquavits to the Danish.
According to Tore Wretman (1) one makes five visits to the smörgåsbord, taking from a different group of foods each time. These are:
First, “Hans Majestät
Sillen”, His Majesty the Herring
Second, fish
Third, cold meats
Fourth, warm dishes
Fifth, dessert
Second, fish
Third, cold meats
Fourth, warm dishes
Fifth, dessert
To give you some idea of what is included in a smörgåsbord, I’ll tell you what we have at our house. But first let me give you a little history.
When we lived in the Twin Cities, we decided in the late 70s to do a julbord for some friends. We did it for a couple of years until one couple hadn’t even left their house when we were ready to start and one woman’s preschooler bumped her into a stack of good plates (they wouldn’t get a babysitter). We took it up again in a later year but only for the immediate family. It became such a custom that our children as adults expect it. I lost interest one year when the grandkids didn’t touch much more than bread and dessert. The family persisted and the adult grandkid now expects it.
So, we blew a wad at the supermarket today for some of the stuff, and I’ve searched my computer for previous year’s menus. For the most part, we try to have three main things for each round along with three side offerings.
Sill: We have served herring in cream sauce. I’ve also served the pickled herring in mustard sauce and in layers in a glass jar. The layers are herring, sliced carrots, and red onion rings. This year we might try smoked herring also. We also serve potatoes boiled with dill, homemade limpa (Swedish rye), hard bread, and cheese (Jarlsberg, Emmantaler, and Gouda).
Fish: I’ve poached a couple of trout or a salmon filet with dill, bay leaf, carrots, and onions. We generally have lots of cooked shrimp and my wife makes a crab salad. My old lists have only olives as an accompaniment beyond more potatoes, bread, and cheese
Cold meats: We always have sliced ham. My wife makes deviled eggs and I make a special liver paste. I get the finest grind Braunschweiger (liver sausage) I can find and mix in brandy and whipping cream until it can be served with a spoon. We often put pickles, red cabbage salad, and sliced tomatoes besides these dishes.
Warm dishes: My wife does meatballs that include veal, beef, and pork. She based it on Wretman’s recipe; he wrote that his readers’ mothers, grandmothers, and aunts might disagree with his version. She also does a plum-packed pork loin. We buy small wiener-like sausages to satisfy our daughter’s request for prinskorv. We serve beets, lingon, and celery at the side.
Dessert: Pepparkakor (ginger cookies), of course. We have also included pears, grapes, applesauce, or almonds. We are generally too tired to think of any other prepared desserts. Besides, who but our son with his “dessert reserve” has any room for more?
After reading this, I hope you realize that Swedish food is not all white and bland. A good smörgåsbord is an array of bright colors and many flavors.
Så, till bords, skål, god aptit, God Jul och Gott Nytt År (so, to the table, skål, good appetite, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year).
(1) Svensk Husmanskost, Tore Wretman, Forum, Stockholm, 1967. Originally husmanskost meant plain food for the servants, but I won’t try to translate its modern meanings. Wretman took seven pages to do so.
Originally published in Reader Weekly December 21, 2006.
See also Christmas blog links
http://magree.blogspot.com/2015/12/christmas-blog-links.html
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Ghosts of Christmases Past
Our saddest Christmas was after a trip to Japan.
We escorted my wife’s mother on a multi-stage trip from Ontario to Japan and back to visit our son and his wife, new-born daughter, and many Japanese relatives. I spent so much time crammed into an airline seat that I didn’t want to ever fly again. Although Grandma at 92 didn’t have a lot of stamina for long walks, she greatly enjoyed the sites and the people.
Near the end of the trip, she awoke with jaw pain. Our son took her to a hospital where she was diagnosed with a heart problem, but she was cleared for the return flights to Canada.
After she was home she had more heart problems. She was hospitalized, had surgery that wasn’t successful, and slowly declined, dying at ten Christmas morning.
Almost all of our other Christmas celebrations have been joyous occasions in many different settings.
My earliest memories are great dreams looking at toy catalogs, seeing the train layouts in the department stores, and visits to Santa.
About Santa, I was Santa once at Mariner Mall. Never again. I never lied so much in my life. “I would like a Britney Spears…” “I’ll see what we can do about that.”
Several of our Christmases were spent at ski resorts. Twice with Club Med in Misurina, Italy, once in Kitzbühel, Austria, and once in Big Sky, Montana.
We’ve had many Christmases with a houseful of guests. It always seemed that everybody was sitting in front of the fireplace, eating sweet rolls, and waiting to open presents. That is, everybody, except an adult male. We had to wait for whoever it was that year to get up, shower, and shave before we could proceed. Was I irritated on the kids’ behalf or my own?
When we lived in Sweden, we picked up two winter solstice traditions: Sankta Lucia and julbord.
We had a Luciafest at work in Stockholm. One year I was appointed Stjärnpojke (Star boy), the guy with the pointed hat who was an attendant to Sankta Lucia. After singing a round of Sankta Lucia, we had glögg and princess torta. Glögg is a potent mixture of wine, vodka, raisins, and spices. Princess torta is a layer cake with whipped cream and custard between alternating layers and green marzipan covering the top and sides.
Julbord means Christmas table and is a variant of a smörgåsbord. No, it is not an all you can pile on your plate pig-out. It is a five course meal where you take certain selections for each course. You can repeat a course if you like. And have all the beer and snaps you want. (Snaps is akvavit, vodka, and their cousins.) We had a julbord for many years, but have given it up as too much fuss.
Another Christmas tradition that has succumbed to “too much fuss” is fruitcake. I am insulted whenever anyone refers to fruitcake as a doorstop. People looked forward to the fruitcake I made based on a recipe that my mother had found. One of the secrets is quality ingredients. You can find the recipe at “Fruitcake: Doorstop or Holiday Treat”.
We have given up on gift exchange in our family. We became too predictable: sweatshirts and t-shirts with funny logos or books. I like each of my sweatshirts but the pile threatens to fall off the shelf each time I pull one out. Many of the books are interesting, but I think most of us have only dabbled in some of them. I know I have one by a very famous author sitting on the desk at our cabin that I keep telling myself to read a few more pages of.
For awhile, I printed cards and a letter. Then I got a new printer that didn’t do the colors well. Then I felt I was writing the same old, same old newsletter, some of which would be about grandchildren the recipients would never meet. The good news is that by using different software I can print cards with great color. Now, I only have to finish this column on the Saturday before Christmas and address those cards.
Church Christmas caroling did give my singing career a boost. The choir was going to be singing at St. Ann’s Residence in Duluth, and the director invited others to join. I drove the good singer in our family to the event and joined in the singing. I stood right behind the director and she invited me into the choir! I think it was my energy, not my skill. From there I went from being a timid off-key singer to a singing student to a singer who got invited to do solos to a singer who doesn’t practice much.
I think one of the best things I did for Christmas happened on our first Christmas together. We were living in Cleveland, Ohio, and I knew there was a policeman on foot patrol at Shaker Square, a five minute drive away. I took him some cookies and coffee. He was standing in a doorway and really appreciated it.
However you celebrate this solstice time, may the return of the sun bring you wonder and joy.
Also published in the Reader Weekly, 2014-12-24 at http://duluthreader.com/articles/2014/12/24/4568_ghosts_of_christmases_past.
We escorted my wife’s mother on a multi-stage trip from Ontario to Japan and back to visit our son and his wife, new-born daughter, and many Japanese relatives. I spent so much time crammed into an airline seat that I didn’t want to ever fly again. Although Grandma at 92 didn’t have a lot of stamina for long walks, she greatly enjoyed the sites and the people.
Near the end of the trip, she awoke with jaw pain. Our son took her to a hospital where she was diagnosed with a heart problem, but she was cleared for the return flights to Canada.
After she was home she had more heart problems. She was hospitalized, had surgery that wasn’t successful, and slowly declined, dying at ten Christmas morning.
Almost all of our other Christmas celebrations have been joyous occasions in many different settings.
My earliest memories are great dreams looking at toy catalogs, seeing the train layouts in the department stores, and visits to Santa.
About Santa, I was Santa once at Mariner Mall. Never again. I never lied so much in my life. “I would like a Britney Spears…” “I’ll see what we can do about that.”
Several of our Christmases were spent at ski resorts. Twice with Club Med in Misurina, Italy, once in Kitzbühel, Austria, and once in Big Sky, Montana.
We’ve had many Christmases with a houseful of guests. It always seemed that everybody was sitting in front of the fireplace, eating sweet rolls, and waiting to open presents. That is, everybody, except an adult male. We had to wait for whoever it was that year to get up, shower, and shave before we could proceed. Was I irritated on the kids’ behalf or my own?
When we lived in Sweden, we picked up two winter solstice traditions: Sankta Lucia and julbord.
We had a Luciafest at work in Stockholm. One year I was appointed Stjärnpojke (Star boy), the guy with the pointed hat who was an attendant to Sankta Lucia. After singing a round of Sankta Lucia, we had glögg and princess torta. Glögg is a potent mixture of wine, vodka, raisins, and spices. Princess torta is a layer cake with whipped cream and custard between alternating layers and green marzipan covering the top and sides.
Julbord means Christmas table and is a variant of a smörgåsbord. No, it is not an all you can pile on your plate pig-out. It is a five course meal where you take certain selections for each course. You can repeat a course if you like. And have all the beer and snaps you want. (Snaps is akvavit, vodka, and their cousins.) We had a julbord for many years, but have given it up as too much fuss.
Another Christmas tradition that has succumbed to “too much fuss” is fruitcake. I am insulted whenever anyone refers to fruitcake as a doorstop. People looked forward to the fruitcake I made based on a recipe that my mother had found. One of the secrets is quality ingredients. You can find the recipe at “Fruitcake: Doorstop or Holiday Treat”.
We have given up on gift exchange in our family. We became too predictable: sweatshirts and t-shirts with funny logos or books. I like each of my sweatshirts but the pile threatens to fall off the shelf each time I pull one out. Many of the books are interesting, but I think most of us have only dabbled in some of them. I know I have one by a very famous author sitting on the desk at our cabin that I keep telling myself to read a few more pages of.
For awhile, I printed cards and a letter. Then I got a new printer that didn’t do the colors well. Then I felt I was writing the same old, same old newsletter, some of which would be about grandchildren the recipients would never meet. The good news is that by using different software I can print cards with great color. Now, I only have to finish this column on the Saturday before Christmas and address those cards.
Church Christmas caroling did give my singing career a boost. The choir was going to be singing at St. Ann’s Residence in Duluth, and the director invited others to join. I drove the good singer in our family to the event and joined in the singing. I stood right behind the director and she invited me into the choir! I think it was my energy, not my skill. From there I went from being a timid off-key singer to a singing student to a singer who got invited to do solos to a singer who doesn’t practice much.
I think one of the best things I did for Christmas happened on our first Christmas together. We were living in Cleveland, Ohio, and I knew there was a policeman on foot patrol at Shaker Square, a five minute drive away. I took him some cookies and coffee. He was standing in a doorway and really appreciated it.
However you celebrate this solstice time, may the return of the sun bring you wonder and joy.
Also published in the Reader Weekly, 2014-12-24 at http://duluthreader.com/articles/2014/12/24/4568_ghosts_of_christmases_past.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Fruitcake: Doorstop or Holiday Treat
This is a little late for this Christmas, but who says fruitcake is only for Christmas. After all, those who can restrain themselves will eat a fruitcake over a week or more. To those who can’t, and several relatives have demolished one of my fruitcakes in a single sitting, I hope you don’t overdose on the sugar.
For the last two or so years that I made fruitcake, I ordered all the fruit and nuts from nutsonline.com, now simply nuts.com.
Originally published in the Reader Weekly of Duluth, 2005-12-08.
Are you a fruitcake conservative or a fruitcake liberal? A fruitcake conservative has had one bad fruitcake or had some authority figure say that fruitcake is bad and so won’t even try any fruitcake. A fruitcake liberal may or may not have had any bad fruitcake but is willing to try more fruitcakes looking for better fruitcakes or a diversity of fruitcakes.
In keeping with being a party of one, I think my fruitcake is very good and there may be some other good fruitcakes somewhere. I can say that many people have asked for my fruitcake and look forward to having another each year.
My fruitcake isn’t strictly “my” fruitcake. It is based on a recipe my mother gave us years ago. Her recipe in turn was based on a Mrs. Lamberth’s. We kept my mother’s hand-written recipe in a cookbook and the cookbook disappeared. Fortunately, I had the ingredient list on a computer and was able to reconstruct it.
Before you start, be sure you have a 12-qt bowl or pan for mixing the fruit and nuts and an 8-qt mixer bowl for the batter. You will want an extra large spatula/mixing spoon. I broke a large wooden spoon one year. You will need an electric mixer, and if your hands tire easily, you’ll want a stand-alone mixer. Some of the other equipment needs will become apparent as you read on.
In the 12-qt. bowl mix
Make sure all the clumps of raisins and citron are separated.
If not already cut in half, cut in half
Set aside 14 red cherry halves for decorating the cake tops. Add the remainder to the fruit-nut mix. Repeat with
Cut into wedges
If the pineapple rings or wedges are more than 3/8 inch thick, split them. Set aside 28 pineapple wedges for the cake tops. Add the remainder to the fruit-nut mix.
From
select 28 pecans for the cake tops. Break the remainder into smaller pieces and add to the mix.
Grate the rind of
and add to the mix.
Stir the mix to distribute the fruit and nuts evenly. Sift
over the mix, a small amount at a time, stirring the flour into the mix as you go.
Don’t worry if you don’t have the exact amount of each ingredient. I think I put in two few pecans and too many walnuts in my first batch this year.
For the batter, start by whipping
in the 8-qt. bowl until it peaks and stays in one piece. Add
and beat until the mixture is smooth. Add
and beat until the mixture is consistent. Sift together into the mixture
Sift the dry ingredients a bit at a time and mix into the batter. You’ll get some sense as to how much can be mixed in without undue clumping.
Add directly to the batter or in another bowl
Mix each ingredient or the mix of liquids thoroughly until the batter is smooth (except for lumps of pie cherries).
Add the batter to the fruit-nut mix and blend thoroughly. Now you’ll know why I said you should have an extra large spatula or spoon. Be sure to get all the fruit and flour that “hides” in the bottom, especially the center or the edge.
Grease with butter 14 “baby loaf” pans. These are about 3x5 inches and available in packs of five at most supermarkets. Don't wait until the last minute to buy. You and I aren’t the only home bakers in town.
Spoon the cake mixture into each pan up to about an inch from the top. You might think you don't have enough pans at first, and then suddenly you find you have to fill the last pan from the others.
Bake for two hours at 250° F. At 1-1/2 hours poke about six holes in each cake with a toothpick and pour
on each. Put the set-aside fruit and nuts on each and then dribble
on the tops. Return to the oven. They are ready when you poke them with a toothpick and it comes out with almost no dough stuck to it.
Be forewarned, your fruitcake liberal friends and relatives are going to expect this every year.
For the last two or so years that I made fruitcake, I ordered all the fruit and nuts from nutsonline.com, now simply nuts.com.
Originally published in the Reader Weekly of Duluth, 2005-12-08.
Are you a fruitcake conservative or a fruitcake liberal? A fruitcake conservative has had one bad fruitcake or had some authority figure say that fruitcake is bad and so won’t even try any fruitcake. A fruitcake liberal may or may not have had any bad fruitcake but is willing to try more fruitcakes looking for better fruitcakes or a diversity of fruitcakes.
In keeping with being a party of one, I think my fruitcake is very good and there may be some other good fruitcakes somewhere. I can say that many people have asked for my fruitcake and look forward to having another each year.
My fruitcake isn’t strictly “my” fruitcake. It is based on a recipe my mother gave us years ago. Her recipe in turn was based on a Mrs. Lamberth’s. We kept my mother’s hand-written recipe in a cookbook and the cookbook disappeared. Fortunately, I had the ingredient list on a computer and was able to reconstruct it.
Before you start, be sure you have a 12-qt bowl or pan for mixing the fruit and nuts and an 8-qt mixer bowl for the batter. You will want an extra large spatula/mixing spoon. I broke a large wooden spoon one year. You will need an electric mixer, and if your hands tire easily, you’ll want a stand-alone mixer. Some of the other equipment needs will become apparent as you read on.
In the 12-qt. bowl mix
| 1-½ lbs. | seedless raisins | |
| 1 lb. |
golden raisins |
|
| ½ lb. |
candied citron | |
| ½ lb. | black walnuts | |
| ½ lb. | English walnuts (also just called walnuts) |
Make sure all the clumps of raisins and citron are separated.
If not already cut in half, cut in half
| ½ lb. | candied red cherries (also called glazed cherries) |
Set aside 14 red cherry halves for decorating the cake tops. Add the remainder to the fruit-nut mix. Repeat with
| ½ lb. | candied green cherries |
Cut into wedges
| 1
lb. |
candied pineapple |
If the pineapple rings or wedges are more than 3/8 inch thick, split them. Set aside 28 pineapple wedges for the cake tops. Add the remainder to the fruit-nut mix.
From
| 1
lb. |
pecan halves |
select 28 pecans for the cake tops. Break the remainder into smaller pieces and add to the mix.
Grate the rind of
| 2 oranges and 2 lemons |
and add to the mix.
Stir the mix to distribute the fruit and nuts evenly. Sift
| 2 cups | flour |
over the mix, a small amount at a time, stirring the flour into the mix as you go.
Don’t worry if you don’t have the exact amount of each ingredient. I think I put in two few pecans and too many walnuts in my first batch this year.
For the batter, start by whipping
| ½
lb. |
butter (two sticks) |
in the 8-qt. bowl until it peaks and stays in one piece. Add
| 2 cups |
brown sugar |
and beat until the mixture is smooth. Add
| 7 eggs |
and beat until the mixture is consistent. Sift together into the mixture
| 2-½ cup | flour | |
| 1 Tbsp | ground cinnamon (Tbsp means tablespoon) | |
| 1 tsp | salt (tsp means teaspoon) | |
| 1 tsp | allspice | |
| 1 tsp | cloves | |
| 1 tsp | nutmeg | |
| 1 tsp | baking powder (which I forgot one year) | |
| ½ tsp | baking soda |
Sift the dry ingredients a bit at a time and mix into the batter. You’ll get some sense as to how much can be mixed in without undue clumping.
Add directly to the batter or in another bowl
| 1 cup | cherry jelly, cherry conserves, or currant jelly | |
| ½ cup | cherry juice (enjoy the remainder, it comes in 46-oz. cans) | |
| ¾ cup | dark molasses (now you will understand “slow as molasses”) | |
| ½ cup | red wine (you might use the red wine to “rinse” the molasses cup) | |
| 1-½ oz. |
brandy (and maybe 1-1/2 oz. into you) | |
| 2 tsp | vanilla | |
| ½ cup | pie cherries (mash these well) |
Mix each ingredient or the mix of liquids thoroughly until the batter is smooth (except for lumps of pie cherries).
Add the batter to the fruit-nut mix and blend thoroughly. Now you’ll know why I said you should have an extra large spatula or spoon. Be sure to get all the fruit and flour that “hides” in the bottom, especially the center or the edge.
Grease with butter 14 “baby loaf” pans. These are about 3x5 inches and available in packs of five at most supermarkets. Don't wait until the last minute to buy. You and I aren’t the only home bakers in town.
Spoon the cake mixture into each pan up to about an inch from the top. You might think you don't have enough pans at first, and then suddenly you find you have to fill the last pan from the others.
Bake for two hours at 250° F. At 1-1/2 hours poke about six holes in each cake with a toothpick and pour
| 1
Tbsp. |
dark rum |
on each. Put the set-aside fruit and nuts on each and then dribble
| corn syrup |
on the tops. Return to the oven. They are ready when you poke them with a toothpick and it comes out with almost no dough stuck to it.
Be forewarned, your fruitcake liberal friends and relatives are going to expect this every year.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
How I nearly spoiled our Christmas
We sang in the early Christmas Eve service last night and had the soup and bread dinner between the services. The dinner almost didn't happen because nobody had been appointed to take charge of it. My wife did a lot of calling around and found many volunteers to bring food, serve it, and clean up afterward. She told me that she would help set up and then let others clean up.
Well, it didn't work out that way. After I ate and chatted with a few people, I put on my coat. The second service started and my wife was still in the kitchen. We also wound up bringing home the tablecloths to wash.
I was irritated; I still had presents to wrap and a few other things I wanted to do at home.
When we arrived home I made a few trips between the garage and house with things we wouldn't have had if we had left right after we ate. The last thing I brought in was the big bundle of tablecloths. My wife said I should just drop them down the laundry chute, but I said I would rather just take them downstairs.
This shouldn't be a problem. I frequently take heavy boxes of firewood to the basement. A box of tablecloths should be easy. This despite that my vision is blocked with either the firewood or the tablecloths.
I got to the last step and caught the heel of my boot. Forward I pitched. I think I dropped the tablecloths. My right knee slammed into the concrete floor and I rolled onto my back. Oh, great!
My knee was sore, but otherwise seemed OK. My pants weren't ripped, but there was a sheen that wasn't there before.
I picked myself up, put the tablecloths by the washing machine, and went back upstairs on my own power. But I was even more irritated for having to stay later at church than I had planned.
Well, I did get the presents wrapped, and I did get some of the other tasks done that I had planned. I also slept rather well, even if sugar plums weren't dancing in my head.
When I woke up this morning, my knee was not the color of a plum and I could walk OK. Whew! I won't be in the hospital with a broken knee cap or anything else. Bring on the presents! Raise our voices on high in song! Serve the punch! Merry Christmas!
Well, it didn't work out that way. After I ate and chatted with a few people, I put on my coat. The second service started and my wife was still in the kitchen. We also wound up bringing home the tablecloths to wash.
I was irritated; I still had presents to wrap and a few other things I wanted to do at home.
When we arrived home I made a few trips between the garage and house with things we wouldn't have had if we had left right after we ate. The last thing I brought in was the big bundle of tablecloths. My wife said I should just drop them down the laundry chute, but I said I would rather just take them downstairs.
This shouldn't be a problem. I frequently take heavy boxes of firewood to the basement. A box of tablecloths should be easy. This despite that my vision is blocked with either the firewood or the tablecloths.
I got to the last step and caught the heel of my boot. Forward I pitched. I think I dropped the tablecloths. My right knee slammed into the concrete floor and I rolled onto my back. Oh, great!
My knee was sore, but otherwise seemed OK. My pants weren't ripped, but there was a sheen that wasn't there before.
I picked myself up, put the tablecloths by the washing machine, and went back upstairs on my own power. But I was even more irritated for having to stay later at church than I had planned.
Well, I did get the presents wrapped, and I did get some of the other tasks done that I had planned. I also slept rather well, even if sugar plums weren't dancing in my head.
When I woke up this morning, my knee was not the color of a plum and I could walk OK. Whew! I won't be in the hospital with a broken knee cap or anything else. Bring on the presents! Raise our voices on high in song! Serve the punch! Merry Christmas!
Saturday, December 08, 2012
Christmas is coming?
It can't be there is no snow! And this is Minnesnowta!
Oh, maybe it is because there's lots of snow predicted for tomorrow. We shall see.
Oh, maybe it is because there's lots of snow predicted for tomorrow. We shall see.
Friday, December 23, 2011
The Perfect Gift?
Blah-blah Corp's Gift Card is the perfect gift?
A new printer/camera/smartphone is the perfect gift?
A new snowmobile is the perfect gift?
A box of nails is the perfect gift?
Perfect gift? For whom? Why? The advertisers have no idea who you are or to whom you want to give gifts.
The only perfect gift that I can think of is an end to violence all over the world. And most of us can only bring that in a tiny-tiny corner of the world.
And the only way I can give peace to you is as a wish.
"No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instant. Take peace!"
- Fra Giovanni Giocondo (c. 1435-1515)
A new printer/camera/smartphone is the perfect gift?
A new snowmobile is the perfect gift?
A box of nails is the perfect gift?
Perfect gift? For whom? Why? The advertisers have no idea who you are or to whom you want to give gifts.
The only perfect gift that I can think of is an end to violence all over the world. And most of us can only bring that in a tiny-tiny corner of the world.
And the only way I can give peace to you is as a wish.
"No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instant. Take peace!"
- Fra Giovanni Giocondo (c. 1435-1515)
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Those special places
Today Jim Heffernan republished "That Special Christmas Place" on his blog; it was originally published in 1983.
It made me think of some of the places where I lived that don't exist anymore. I personally saw that the house I lived in from 1947 to 1951 is no more as well as some of its neighbors. From Google Street view I saw that an apartment building I lived in from 1951 to 1953 is gone and that a drugstore that we lived over in the early 1940s is gone.
They weren't the best houses in the world, but they were home. I have no ownership of them and few would value them as a place the "famous" Mel Magree lived. However, that there is a vacant lot or a parking lot where I once lived does leave a vacant spot in my heart. I think this is so because I can't put my hands on any pictures I may have of these places and that my descendants can't go to the places as they are in my memory.
See also "Often you really can't go home".
It made me think of some of the places where I lived that don't exist anymore. I personally saw that the house I lived in from 1947 to 1951 is no more as well as some of its neighbors. From Google Street view I saw that an apartment building I lived in from 1951 to 1953 is gone and that a drugstore that we lived over in the early 1940s is gone.
They weren't the best houses in the world, but they were home. I have no ownership of them and few would value them as a place the "famous" Mel Magree lived. However, that there is a vacant lot or a parking lot where I once lived does leave a vacant spot in my heart. I think this is so because I can't put my hands on any pictures I may have of these places and that my descendants can't go to the places as they are in my memory.
See also "Often you really can't go home".
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