(This was written for Holidailies.)
(This was written for Holidailies.)
I’m working my last day in retail today, and I won’t have the energy to blog anything when I get home. I wrote this ahead of time. I hope you’ll understand. Happy holidays, whatever you celebrate!
(This was written for Holidailies.)
My husband can’t help but cry every time we play this tune. He’s moved by the inclusion of Father Christmas and other “pagan” symbols in the video alongside the traditionally Christian lyrics.
You’ve probably heard this song before, but never quite like this. Loreena put the familiar lyrics to a different, unfamiliar medieval Celtic tune, creating a haunting song that, again, incorporates elements of Christianity and paganism. You can read more about the song itself here, including the masculine symbolism of the holly and the feminine nature of the ivy, and how the lyrics compare the holly to the role of Jesus Christ, while the ivy no doubt refers to the church, often referred to in the feminine pronoun.
The Yule log is a particularly dense natural piece of wood that is used especially for such a night as this, a tradition most popular in Eastern Europe but a fixture in fireplaces all over the northern hemisphere. Its most practical applications are of course light and warmth on the longest night and shortest day of the year, the Winter Solstice. In a world where only candles, bonfires, and kitchen pit fires kept the darkness of the night at bay, it was reasonable to ensure a fire’s longevity by providing it a log that would take hours upon hours to burn away to ash. Historians aren’t quite sure where the tradition part of it took off, but established its usage to Britain in the late 1700s.
The Yule-log-as-video idea came along in 1966 when the then-president of New York City television station WPIX gave his company a gift by airing a multi-hour video of a modest fire in a fireplace without commercial interruption on December 25. He gave his employees the chance to spend the day at home with their families, and also provided a cheesy substitute for those individuals in the area who lived in apartments and other dwellings without fireplaces, but who owned a television somewhere in their residence. It’s been an on-again-off-again phenomenon through the years, and now through the magic of the internet you can have your Christmas Day parades and your Yule log too.
I’m having a hard time finding a song that features mistletoe, but an entry like this wouldn’t be complete without that particular element! This modest plant blooms in winter, at odds with most of its vegetative brethren. In the 1800s, it became a common custom for a man and woman, standing beneath a bough of the shiny, waxy green leaves and red berries, to smooch under the common holiday decoration. There wasn’t much to the custom, it was just a Thing.
The poinsettia is also a winter-blooming plant. Already a popular decoration in Latin America during celebrations near the Winter Solstice, Franciscan friars in Mexico included the plants in their Christmas celebrations. They likened the star-shaped pattern of leaves to the Star of Bethlehem, and the red color to the blood sacrifice of the Christian savior.
Even the Christmas tree has roots (haha) that precede Christianity. In the area now known as Germany, ancient tribes told stories and repeated legends of the Donar Oak, which stood for traditional values such as truth, longevity, and loyalty. In the middle ages, those who resided in the region erected evergreen trees in public spaces, decorating them with delicacies, candies, and sweets for children. The crazy westernized Christians began putting candles in there, and privatized the whole affair to the households of individual families. And likely burnt down a lot of said homes.
I have to work, and cannot spend much more time describing familiar elements of the season that are not particularly Christian, or started out as symbols for preexisting religions, legends, and customs. Here are links to more information that you’re welcome to read at your leisure:
And here’s a left-over song that isn’t Christmas-related, but rather tells the story of the Duke of Bohemia (a Czech territory) somewhere in the early 900s, the high middle ages, as he set out stomping about in the snow. The Wiki article is here:
(This was written for Holidailies.)
There’s no entry today, or the 23rd. I wrote everything way ahead of time because I knew I’d be swamped this month. Only I didn’t know how swamped I’d be due to the complete fail on the part of my coworker, who was supposed to keep up inventory on my days off, and failed utterly to do so. I tried to think of something to write here, but I’m just completely drained. So, there, an entry written, but completely lacking in holiday-ness, other than griping about retail woes.
(This was written for Holidailies.)
Here’re a bunch of holiday (mostly Christmas)-themed scenes, songs, and other silliness that I pull up every December to shock, annoy, and amuse my friends.
Featured are alternative lyrics and strange versions of recognizable holiday tunes.
Farting Elves 12 Days of Christmas
Mr. Bean conducts Christmas Orchestra
Danny Kaye & Bing Crosby – Sisters
(This was written for Holidailies.)
Sad and melancholy songs have their place in December as much as any “holly jolly” one. Here are a few.
Winter Fairytale (Sad Piano Theme)
Amy Grant – Breath Of Heaven (Mary’s Song)
“Oh Come Oh Come Emanuel” A Cappella performed by Charlie’s Angels
And here are some tears for an entirely different reason.
(This was written for Holidailies.)
Re: the above video, I found that while looking for possibly silly songs about holiday foods. I searched for candy canes, and then for fruitcake, and found that. It’s the first time I’d ever heard that song, and laughed out loud when I watched it. Anyhoo…
I decided to make an entry about foods, dishes, and treats I associate with winter.
#1: Turkey & gravy. Every Thanksgiving, whether my family spent the holiday with family, or with other friends, or even the few years we spent it at home, there was always turkey. I like white meat, and I do like liquid gravy. Not so much the sausage gravy served some years, but the more fluid meat-based broth stuff. I’d put mashed potatoes with this blurb too.
#2: Ham & pineapple. My mom couldn’t cook a ham without putting pineapple on it. I adore pineapple. The ham was usually way under- or over-cooked.
#3: Candy canes. Sometimes my mom would buy a box of the things and put them on the tree along with ornaments, and I’d be allowed one per day. Sometimes I’d get a small one, as would my classmates, from the teacher. Sometimes the church would hand them out on some Advent Sunday.
#4: Yams. I have to tell you that yams are among my very favorite foods. I have a pronounced sweet tooth. With or without marshmallows, I like the baked goody either way. Canned, fresh, it’s all spiffy. Mashed, diced, whole, I’m cool with it.
#5: Pillow mints. This candy has many names, but they’re a vaguely square shape, like an overstuffed pillow, in varied pastel colors. I mentioned that my maternal grandmother stocked them each winter holiday, and that I was apt to swipe way too many of them to be healthy. I loved the way they melted in my mouth, or felt like candied snow as I bit down into them.
#6: Hot apple cider and hot chocolate. No, not together. I was even offered a Hot Toddy and a Tom & Jerry (virgin-no alcohol) once each winter as a treat. Interesting and different. I might as well include egg nog in there too.
#7: Fruitcake. I never liked this monstrosity, whether it was store-bought or homemade. I don’t know, the idea of fruit suspended in a bread-cake form was fine, but candied fruits? And fruit-flavored candy? Baked for over a half hour? No wonder the thing weighed like a brick, and had the consistency of one. Not that I’ve ever bit into a brick, but if my broken teeth are any indication… I’m being facetious about the broken teeth.
#8: Cookies. My mom would make all sorts of baked goods during the month of December, among them sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, and those chocolate ones with the dusting of powdered sugar on top. Less often she’d make peanut butter cookies and chocolate chip cookies. Wow, I haven’t made cookies in a decade and I’m really wanting to do some. Hmm…
Dang, I couldn’t even come up with ten. Ah well.
(This was written for Holidailies.)
I love the position I have at the supermarket that hubby works at. I arrange fruit in baskets for about four hours a day, interact with customers, joke with employees, hide from the manager from the other department who has no business micromanaging me anyway, and tell the lost where to find the department or the item they want.
I really rocked the position last year, raking in thousands of dollars more in sales than the previous person had the year before. This year, the product just is not a big seller. People see the (over)prices on the baskets, look directly behind me at the $.59 fruit, shrug and grab their own produce. Last year, a lot of customers wanted a free basket, free bows, free tags, and free wrapping paper, when I barely had enough for the product I was actually making. This year, a few other in-store departments have availed themselves to my stash of supplies under the display table, when I’m not there to stop them. That all comes out of MY department’s funds, which is a bit maddening but whatever.
I really love the position because it’s easy, short, lets me interact with the public demonstrating my mad skillz, and by the time I start to get tired of the grind and predictability of the retail environment, it’s time to sit at home and play with freelance assignments again. It’s a secondary (and sometimes tertiary) source of income, it gets me out of the house, I see hubby at work nearly every day, and I get to interact with the public. My direct manager is a really cool guy who loves to laugh and leaves me to my own devices, trusting that I know what I’m doing. With two years now under my belt, he knows he can leave me to it. Every time he glances over, I’m talking to a customer or my hands are busy making something. I pride myself on giving my company their money’s worth with efficiency, accuracy, and my mind firmly on what I’m doing.
I walk in every day with a smile, and maintain a positive attitude throughout the day no matter what I’m handed. I’m always rather amazed at the pool of energy I have when I’m on the clock. Others always remark how much of an overachiever I am; I’m always doing more than I’m asked to do, and volunteer for more, or go find something to do until directed otherwise. They know I’m good for it.
They hired an underling for me, an older woman, who doesn’t have the same attention to detail or pride in her work. Yesterday, I came back on shift after two days off and found a lot of rotten fruit in the baskets. They don’t get that way overnight, you can see pears ripening and bananas going south long before the point at which I saw them. It took me roughly an hour to sort it all out. I’ve watched the underling at work, it takes her the entire shift to finish what needs to be done. There’re certain things we’re supposed to do, and in the interests of cutting corners, she doesn’t do them. It usually falls to me to follow along behind her and rework what needs doing, so that we have a uniform and high-quality product for people to purchase.
Like I said, the sales halfway through the month now aren’t nearly what they were last year–I can tell merely by taking inventory of the number of baskets sitting day after day on the shelves, the number of empty baskets under the table, and the other supplies not pilfered by the other departments. I’m not sure if that will pick up as the close of the year arrives, but in the meantime, every two days, every fruit is inspected and replaced as necessary, which gets wasteful if they’re all sitting stagnant on the shelf rather than being sold. Nobody’s made a custom order, either. I’ve stepped up the display with brochures prominently showing the order forms, and I plan to use the overhead announcement system to advertise the more expensive ones and custom baskets as well. We’ll see.
In the meantime, I’m doing the work of 1.5 people, and I was very disappointed that they cut my pay rate from last year to the barest minimum wage. If they ask me to stay on, I shall have to say no, it’s so ridiculous that the bus fare and food costs cancel out any income I do get. That’s part of why I’m frantic about getting the car fixed (and keeping it running), we rent that car and it costs us for every day it sits there rather than get us from hither to yon.
(This was written for Holidailies.)
Most of these Holidailies entries feature a video that is only tangentially related. In this entry’s case, it is more directly related.
My parents participated nearly yearly in the Community Christmas Choir, a amateur volunteer choir of nearly 100 people who could (at least somewhat) carry a tune, and practiced weekly from September through December, performing for three nights some mid-December weekend, raising money for some nonprofit cause that benefited the homeless and victimized in the community.
My sister and I were often dragged along during their practice sessions, sitting in the high school’s cafeteria-gym and trying to amuse ourselves quietly while the adults sang their songs, over and over. Homework was not possible with the lights out in the gym. My sister and I would often take a nap, or play with a couple other kids who were also dragged along. Only once did my sister and I get so rambunctious that we needed to be yelled at to stop the noise. The rest of the time, we may or may not have run around in circles and ellipses, but at least we kept it down to a low roar. The choir director didn’t seem to much like children.
Anyway, the linked number is one my parents performed in the early 80s, in the years before I was old enough to care about such things as lyrics, and paying attention. The song always intrigued me because there was a silly part in which a man would sing off-key and obnoxiously, and to which the other choir members couldn’t help laughing.
I’ve rarely heard it performed since.
Every December, I hum it to myself, not remembering the lyrics and trying desperately to remember even one word so that I could Google it. Yesterday, the words “monotone angel” came to mind and I cursed that I was on my way to work instead of in front of the computer so that I could find the lyrics and watch the video right away. I texted myself a note to remember later.
Sometimes I wish my parents would let me transfer to digital format the old cassette tapes made of each years’ performance. Periodically through the years I’ve had an interest in listening to them again. Especially this song.
(This was written for Holidailies.)
This entry is inspired by the comparatively large quantity of caffeine I’ve been ingesting lately. I’m a fan of latte art–the practice of making something fanciful and hipsterish not-mainstream out of coffee and cream. I was a cake decorator for a few years after high school, and perfected this pattern in jelly and frosting using nothing but a toothpick; I am fairly sure that doing latte art wouldn’t be much more difficult, if I could only figure out the secrets of pouring the hot milk without disturbing the surface of the espresso with the act.
Anyway, here’s some winter-themed latte art:
