Christmas traditions

More years ago than we can be sure of, the Daughter Person assigned us the responsibility of getting a new Christmas book every year at this time. Or, maybe she simply mentioned that we read the same book or two at Christmas each year and couldn't we find something different. Over the years we've acquired a couple of handsfull of these books. There's:

• Christmas in Minnesota, Ziebarth & Horrigan, Ed.
• A Minnesota Christmas Anthology, Stephen Engels, Ed.
• Dogs Think That Every Day Is Christmas, Ray Bradbury
• Christmas Here in Northern Lands, Haavik & Kloss
• A Christmas Wish, Lori Evert
• The Christmas Box, Richard Evans
• The Woodcutter's Christmas, Brad Kessler
• The Glass Angels, Susan Hill
• A Dog Named Christmas, Greg Kincaid
• Christmas at Eagle Pond, Donald Hall
• The Night Before Christmas, Clement Moore, and,
• An Aboriginal Carol, David Bouchard

Minnesota Historical Society

This year we're back to being Empty Nesters so the idea of yet another Christmas book seemed up for grabs except that it has become one of our longer-standing Christmas traditions. While browsing a bookstore today, an irresistible title leapt out at us. We could no more resist that we can pass up a Christmas cookie. Whether we read it at our house, or in the Daughter Person's new home (more likely), the family tradition continues. We'd tell you more about this year's book but it's a secret surprise until shared with the family. Maybe ofter Christmas we'll do a book review.

Another tradition that has come to be affiliated with Christmas in our family is a run to Candyland for a mix of candy treats for the holidays, including some Sour Santas and salt licorice. That got done today after we'd stopped by our favorite potter's [top of sidebar to right] Open House (continues tomorrow). We also managed to find some variegated holly at the co-op in Stillwater. The Better Half bought some, no doubt in pity for us, since we've been a failure in finding any growing in pots this year. Holly has become a bit of a personal Christmas tradition.

the ghost of Christmas cookies past

Photo by J. Harrington

The tree is up. The outside lights and decorations taken care of. Most of the inside decorations are in place. Christmas cookies are still to be baked by the Better Half and Daughter Person. More shopping  is still to be done, as well as making and curating some Christmas lists. The holiday this year isn't in the books yet, but it's shaping up to be one for the books.

The Christmas Holly

Eliza Cook, 1818- 1889

The holly! the holly! oh, twine it with bay—
   Come give the holly a song;
For it helps to drive stern winter away,
   With his garment so sombre and long.
It peeps through the trees with its berries of red,
   And its leaves of burnish’d green,
When the flowers and fruits have long been dead,
   And not even the daisy is seen,
Then sing to the holly, the Christmas holly,
   That hangs over peasant and king:
While we laugh and carouse ’neath its glitt’ring boughs,
   To the Christmas holly we’ll sing.

The gale may whistle, and frost may come,
   To fetter the gurgling rill;
The woods may be bare, and the warblers dumb—
   But the holly is beautiful still.
In the revel and light of princely halls,
   The bright holly-branch is found;
And its shadow falls on the lowliest walls,
   While the brimming horn goes round.
Then drink to the holly, &c.

The ivy lives long, but its home must be
   Where graves and ruins are spread;
There’s beauty about the cypress tree,
   But it flourishes near the dead:
The laurel the warrior’s brow may wreathe,
   But it tells of tears and blood.
I sing the holly, and who can breathe
   Aught of that that is not good?
Then sing to the holly, &c.

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