★~♥~♥~★~ El Morno! ♥~★~★~♥ ~
December 23, 2012
★~ Today’s Quote: “Welcome, new comers. The tradition of Festivus begins with the airing of grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people! And now you’re gonna hear about it!” ~Frank Costanza
★~ Happy Festivus:
Celebrated by Seinfeld fans everywhere, Festivus i was first introduced to the world by the Costanza family on Seinfeld in 1997. In an episode titled, “The Strike”, Frank Costanza tells Cosmo Kramer that he invented the holiday in response to Christmas commercialism.
The slogan of Festivus is “A Festivus for the rest of us!” The usual holiday tradition of a tree is manifested in an unadorned aluminum pole, which is in direct contrast to normal holiday materialism. Those attending Festivus may also participate in the “Airing of Grievances” which is an opportunity to tell others how they have disappointed you in the past year, followed by a Festivus dinner, and then completed by the “Feats of Strength” where the head of the household must be pinned. All of these traditions are based upon the events in the Seinfeld episode, however, strangely enough, Festivus has roots that pre-date Seinfeld.
May we wish you all a Happy Festivus for the rest of us!
★~ Roots Day:
What better time of year than the holiday season –when you’re bombarded with family functions– to pause, look around you, and remember that your ancestral roots run deep and you are kindred in blood and spirit to the whole clan of crazy people partying in the kitchen and wearing matching sweaters.
★~ Pfeffernuesse Cookie Day:
Pfeffernusse, you say? Is a hard little cookie made with pepper, and a whole bunch of other spices. Because of its deep “winter” flavors, it’s often associated with Christmas (kind of like gingerbread).
Pfeffernüsse are extremely hard when they are first baked. For at least a week, it is difficult to bite into them without first dunking into a beverage. However, they soften with age.
Here is traditional German tale about the Pfeffernüsse “spice cookie,” but before reading practice the donkey call: EEE-AH!
★~ Today in History:
♥~ 1823 – He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.” These words were published for the first time in the Troy (N.Y.) Sentinel (now the Record). The poem we know as The Night Before Christmas or A Visit from St. Nicholas by Clement C. Moore, was published anonymously under the newspaper editor’s title, Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas.
Moore’s poem, which he had written on Christmas Eve one year earlier, took a circuitous route to the Troy paper. The story has it that Moore penned the poem, inspired by the bells on the sleigh in which he was riding, the sleigh’s jolly driver, and the new fallen snow on the streets of New York City, as he was running a last minute errand for his wife. That evening, he read his now-famous words to his six children as they sat in front of their fireplace where “The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hope that St. Nicholas soon would be there.” The children were so delighted with their father’s images of “a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,” that they saved the poem, showing it to a family friend, Harriet Butler, who was visiting from Troy. Moore allowed Miss Butler to copy the poem in her keepsake album.
Miss Butler was so taken with the charming work that she sent it in to the Troy newspaper shortly before the following Christmas, unbeknownst to Moore, who never intended to publish the poem as it was out of character for a strait-laced professor of classics.
The poem captured the imaginations of young and old alike …so Clement C. Moore finally consented to being recognized as its author when the poem appeared in The New-York Book of Poetry in 1837.
“Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar plums danc’d in their heads,
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap —
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call’d them by name:
“Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer and Vixen,
“On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Donder and Blitzen;
“To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
“Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys — and St. Nicholas too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound:
He was dress’d all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnish’d with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
And he look’d like a peddler just opening his pack:
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples: how merry,
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face, and a little round belly
That shook when he laugh’d, like a bowl full of jelly:
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laugh’d when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And fill’d all the stockings; then turn’d with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight —
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
★~ Did You Know: Grab A Tissue . . .
Canadian cellphone company TELUS asked their Facebook fans what they would give if they could give anything. Then they went out and bought one of them a wheelchair lift.
Now for a little balance…
I made this stove top Christmas potpourri and my house smells soooo good!
1 whole orange or just the orange peel
1/2 cup cranberries
1 Tbsp. whole cloves
3 sticks of cinnamon or a small handful of small pieces of cinnamon
a bit of grated nutmeg if desired
Quarter the orange. Put all the ingredients into a saucepan. Fill pan with water. Place on the stove on the smallest burner, on the lowest setting. Refill water as needed.
I will be back later to share about our successful Christmas sweater adventure. FUN!