The Ingeniousy of Mistletoes

"The mistletoe is still hung up in farm-houses and kitchens at Christmas, and the young men have the privilege of kissing the girls under it, plucking each time a berry from the bush. When the berries are all plucked the privilege ceases."

The quote above is from 'The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent' by Washington Irving, published in the 1820s. It describes the act of kissing under the mistletoe, and is most possibly the first written account of it. For people like me who cannot 'get lucky' in ways to do with acts of lovemaking because of a list of future spouse must-have characteristics, skills and investments longer than Santa Clause's 'Nice or Naughty' list, one thing becomes our saviour during this particular holiday period, and that is the Mistletoe. It is customary for couples during Christmas time to kiss underneath a Mistletoe. From whence it began, not most know, however I write today in an attempt to inform those lacking the knowledge of the origins of this ingenious act. 

Starting out as a mere Christmas decoration, some people claim that this lovely tradition began in Norse Mythology. Frigg the goddess had a son, Baldr, and at his birth Frigg had told all the plants to not hurt him, overlooking the Mistletoe. Then, the mischievous god Loki had tricked another God into murdering Baldr with a spear made out of Mistletoe. Baldr died, and of course, was eventually brought back to life, and so Frigg simply somehow told the Mistletoe to bring love instead of death. To commemorate Baldr's resurrection and to obey Frigg's decision, people began to kiss under the Mistletoe - perhaps even to protect themselves from the evil Loki.

Another theory claims that back in the age of the Babylonian-Assyrian Empire, outside of the temple for the goddess of beauty and love, there hung a Mistletoe. Single women would stand underneath it, waiting for single men to approach them. Once approached, they bonded - but did not kiss - beneath it. Back in these historical times, people believed that the Mistletoe had supernatural powers - that it ultimately promoted fertility, and its leaves were an aphrodisiac. These people had to get back to their homes before they could test out how fertile the Mistletoe had left them.

For this reason, Mistletoes were also a part of marriages. Couples would have them placed underneath their beds, and the Mistletoes would have to endure every squeak of the couples' springs for the rest of their lives, and all of the other noises which came with that. Soon after, England adopted this practice and young men and women would kiss beneath a Mistletoe, and pick a berry afterwards. After all the berries were picked, it would be bad luck to kiss beneath that certain Mistletoe. These kisses were not for an enjoyable time, though, they were kisses of serious commitment, and marriage had normally followed. If an innocent single man wondered underneath a Mistletoe and a crazy single woman had happened to be standing beneath it, that man would have had to work twice as much to ensure that she had a wedding ring and a rather exquisite new fur coat every three weeks. These men would have hoped that the Mistletoe was not bearing any berries.

This brings me to the reason as to why I write about the glorious Mistletoe today. I know I am not the first person to think of this, and I will not be one to carry it out seeing as I am only celebrating Christmas with direct relatives and the end result will prove disastrous and incestuous, however it can be a great tip for those celebrating Christmas time with randoms. Dress as an old English woman or man, depending on your preference, of course, and attach a fresh Mistletoe to a hat. Make sure, though, that is hangs well above your head so that chosen future spouses will literally not see what is coming to them. And a tip, purchase a wedding ring beforehand because the chances are that they will not agree to this entire prospect. This way, half of the work is done and they will most likely be with you for a while.

So now that you are aware of the origins of the Mistletoe and its ingeniousity, please use it to your utter advantage. Fear no fiend, kiss all at sight. You never know what could happen this special Christmas night!

                                                                                                                                                                                         
References:

Wikipedia: [http://en.wikipedia.org/]

The Plump Old Man who Visits Chimneys

Listen close, for you will hear,

the sound of the plump old man coming near!

He silently lurks upon your rooftops at night

and when least expected, can cause quite a fright!

Your chimney is his at Christmas time,

his act of lowering himself through it is sublime!

If you do not leave him some milk and cookies,

he will take back your presents and remain unpleased!

Ridden from the North on reindeers and a sleigh

Rudolph is the lead reindeer, you will never hear him neigh!

Leaving Mrs Clause sexually frustrated and alone,

Santa Clause is on his way to all of our homes!

His list is so long he needs another three bags,

he barely leaves any coal, yet children always nag!

His elves physically violated so they will deliver,

But they can take so much as the gift lists get bigger!

Poor Santa, roaming the cold snowy skies,

he has no time to take a break and savour some McDonald's fries!

His line of work is demanding, more than you know,

Imagine leaving your warm house and delivering presents in the snow!

Yet he still keeps on giving, with his Ho ho ho's,

With his old clicky knees and his frosty white nose,

his silky red outfit barely fits around his waist,

yet he makes his way around the world in one night, with such haste!

The sleigh bells will ring and carollers will sing,

and the festive season will come, and great food it will bring!

family reunite, ignoring possible fights,

and take part in gift-giving and receiving all through the night!

But this Christmas day, ignore what they say,

and try to send happiness to the poor, up their way,

For the good Christmas cheer that we feel every year,

tends to miss out on those who do not live very near.

I wrote this poem, I suppose, to illustrate that cheer is not spread around to everyone. Though you may enjoy Christmas time and the company of your family and the great food that you are surrounded with in the festive season, please note that you are one of the few who has a chance to experience this. There are many in the world who do not have the ability to be cheerful on Christmas, let alone any other day.

So while you put up that fiftieth faux Christmas tree which you purchased last Saturday because it is a different colour from the other forty-nine that you own, and while you wrap presents and lay them beneath it and offer your children the false premise which claims that Santa Clause will deliver those gifts which they carefully indicated to you that they wanted and which they cannot make links back to you when you so cleverly cover your tracks with the idea of Santa Clause, and while you sit with your loved ones and consume a sacrificial lamb or turkey or pig or chicken, think of those who have none of this, and accept how fortunate you are.

Accept it and live not a life of misery wherein you believe that the world is wired to work around you, because in all actuality it is working in your favour. You have a home, shelter, a family, and all the Christmas cheer you will need this festive season.

Think of others, because if you were in their situation you would want them to think of you, too.

The Origin of the Striped Bent Sticks of Goodness, also known as Candy Canes

For years people have been giving and receiving candy canes in the duration of Christmas time. And for years, people have been doing it mindlessly, paying no attention to the origins from which the candy cane had sprung.

For years mothers hung them on Christmas trees – children picked them from the Christmas trees and ate them – toddlers suckled on them after receiving them from their teachers – other toddlers threw them at their peers because of the utter confusion involved with being handed a candy cane near Christmas time. I am suckling on one as I type as I also share the mind of the confused toddler. The reality is though, that wherever there is a candy cane there is no reason, besides the obvious pointing out of the nearing event, Christmas. No explanation either, other than “It was on sale at [name of nearest and cheapest store] and the box looked cute.”

I wonder if anybody has bothered to ponder the origins of the sweet, bent sensation that dances with their taste buds. Why is it, arguably, other than Santa Clause and his gigantic stomach, a beacon of Christmas? Why is it that strangely bent shape, and why, with the shape making it slightly difficult to eat, has no confectionary leader decided to straighten out this sweet rod of goodness to aid children in consuming it?

Children eat this strange shape regardless. They find their ways around things, and adapt. I break off the curvy part and consume piece by piece in order to avoid my mouth from sticking together. However the reasons behind the shape of the candy cane are strongly related to its origins.

Over three-hundred and fifty years ago, candy-makers around the world had made white hard sugar sticks. It was not until after children became restless and irate during long Christmas masses that these candy-makers decided to take one step closer to more money – what better way to do this than to bribe parents to pay in order to bribe their children to save them the humiliation during Christmas masses? So they gave children these white hard sugar-sticks, however the candy-makers had bent the tops to stick with the theme of Christmas, so that the sticks became canes representing a Shepherd’s staff.

This happened in the seventeenth century, in the Cologne Cathedral in Germany. It spread through Europe, then, of course, fluttered over to America, where decorations began to fill in the dull white colour of the candies. In fact, the first historical reference which depicted candy canes being associated with Christmas in America happened in 1847, when August Imgard, a German immigrant, had decorated his Christmas tree with these sensational bent candies. I suppose then Australians thought this was awesome because America did, and the rest of the world copied America too, thus the wonderful white bent stick of glory was made.

Its stripes, though, have two alleged reasons – the first, well, the red stripes on the white sticks were cool and why not? Maybe it will sell more candies – the second reason though, is where things get heated: apparently the red symbolizes blood and the white purity, the actual shape of the candy was a ‘J’ to symbolize the first letter of the one and only Jesus.

Whatever the actual reason behind the stripes though, the candy cane is still available today. It is a vital representation of Christmas, amongst other  overly-priced ornaments and under-priced nativity scenes depicting deformed faces and donkeys which look like drugged sheep.

Candy canes are delicious, and now come in varied flavours and colours. Even though they were never handed out to me during my restlessness in Church when I was younger, I still adore them. In fact, I just went through my fourth one tonight.

Now that you are aware of the origins of the Candy Cane, go and suckle on the nearest one and think of the joy those children felt back in 1670, amidst the cold restless night during a Christmas mass.

                                                                                                                                                                                         
References:
Wikipedia [en.wikipedia.org]

Good Deeds for Good Karma

Today was a stressful and slow day that taught and reminded me that good karma still exists amongst and in contrast to the barren harshness of the world. It told me to remember that if I perform a good deed, I would have one performed back to me. But today also taught me that because of all the good deeds I have performed, all I had to do was sit back and enjoy some good deeds.

I drove through the narrow and bumpy road to get to my university carpark, when a car on the opposite lane began to slow down and a hand holding a parking ticket protruded from the window. I slowed down my car, not minding the cars behind me which was a silly thing to do because some drivers enjoy rear-ending other cars to emphasise their lack of driving skills, and lo and behold, it was my friend Lucy* from art class. She beamed a smile and I beamed one back, and said, "thanks love!" It was all I could say because I did not want my possible rear-enders to become upset with me.

Not thinking much about the kind gesture besides the fact that maybe Lucy recognised me from afar and had decided to pass on her cigarette-smelling ticket, I drove on and boasted to my mother, my dear passenger and escort  to my re-enrolment session, how every person that I had met in that certain art class were sensational, and Lucy had just as well proven this. My mother just smiled briefly and continued to hold on for her dear life, just because I was driving. And so I drove on, avoiding the speed humps that I could avoid, and riding those that carefully held down the sidewalk, forcing me to ride them.

I reached two carparks behind the university, both of which were full. I found one carpark, but it was in a permit zone. I was about to park when an old man wearing a cowboy hat walked around the car next to me. I freaked out and drove off thinking it was a parking inspector that had come around to hand me some bad karma, however it just turned out that this little old man was an innocent little old man wielding a loaf of bread rather than a fining machine. Despite all the times that I preach against the use of stereotypes, there I was applying stereotypes.

Regardless, though, I thought that walking an extra three minutes would not harm me, so I parked in a zone where Lucy's ticket was totally acceptable. My mother and I then went on our ten minute endeavour to the ninth building, where I re-enrolled. Upon returning back to our vehicle afterwards, an old man approached me and asked me for my ticket, because the ticket machine was down. 
"Here mate, my friend gave me it so I will pass it on to you!" 
"Thanks love!" he replied. "I hope you win the Tattslotto!"

I was speechless. No stranger has ever had high hopes as such for me. If anything, they should keep those high hopes for themselves. He didn't, though. Because of my good deed after Lucy's good deed, this old man gave me back a possible dream of his, wishing it to be mine, and I am ever so thankful. I will go for the lotto tomorrow, and place my lucky number seven somehow, I will get my father to do it because I cannot gamble to save my life, and I will wish for the best, just because of this old man. I mean, he could have said other things, like "have a good day!" or "I hope you don't end up getting rear-ended by unskilled drivers!" But instead, he wished me luck for the lottery.

This is interesting because today is also my name day. I was named after Saint Nicholas, who is known today as Santa Clause, a nice old man who had a reputation for secret gift-giving. Perhaps my gift from today was to win the lottery tomorrow. Or perhaps I won't win at all, and it was only a hopeful line given to me for richness in things other than money, like love or happiness. 

Either way, I was happy that Lucy made my day. Today is a killstreak of happiness and whether or not I win the lottery tomorrow, I will continue performing in good deeds. Thank you, Karma. And thank you, Lucy. And if I win tomorrow, thank you, strange old man. But thank you regardless, because of the hope you have given me and the happiness you have reignited within me.



P.s: Look at how many words this essay has amounted to, disregarding this note:

                                                                                                                                                                                         
* I am unsure that is her name, but I think it is. She is tall, slender and has a French petite figure, and a smile of a Spaniard.