Word Wenches

Benjamin Banneker: A Tribute

by Mary Jo

February is Black History Month in the US and Canada.  I understand that the UK has a similar celebration in October.  February was chosen because both Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass were born this month, on the 12th and 14th respectively.

Until last fall, I had only the vaguest awareness of Benjamin Banneker--that he was an early African American scientist of some sort.  And that was the extent of my knowledge.

Then a friend visited and the Mayhem Consultant suggested I take her to see the Benjamin Banneker Museum , which I'd never heard of.  Situated in a very rural area of Baltimore County, I was surprised to find that the museum is a handsome building that is the centerpiece of the 142 acre Benjamin Banneker county park.  Moreover, the park is located on the site of Banneker's own farm.

What We're Reading in January

Nicola here, introducing this month's "What We're Reading" feature. We've had a bumper reading month on Word Wenches as a result of the holiday season and we hope you have lots of recommendations for us too, if you've had chance to read in between all the demands of the New Year! So without further ado let's turn to our reading choices.

Anne writes:

I have a fondness for Christmas stories and over Christmas I read and reread a number of Christmas novellas, including some
collections by Mary Balogh and Mary Jo Putney that contained stories I'd never read. Then I embarked on a fantasy glom, Robin Hobb -- starting with ASSASSIN'S APPRENTICE and reading them in order up to FOOL'S QUEST. And now I have to wait for the next book to come out. Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed them and have no hesitation in recommending them.

Then for a change of pace I read Kristan Higgins's ANYTHING FOR YOU, followed by a reread of some Loretta Chase reissues and a couple of Lisa Kleypas historicals, which I always enjoy.

Lastly I've just finished Louise Penny's THE BEAUTIFUL MYSTERY. I've enjoyed all of Louise Penny's crime novels, and realized when I read this, that I've fallen behind and there are three more new ones I haven't read. A treat in store.

The New ABC of Reading

Cara/Andrea here, As many of you can probably tell from our monthly “What Are We Reading” posts, I am an avid reader as well an author—as are all the Wenches. So the question of how to discover new books and new-to-us authors in this age of shrinking bricks and mortar bookstores and expanding e-universe of titles is doubly important to me. The Wenches talk about it a lot among ourselves, but I’d love to hear YOUR thoughts on the state of reading today.

Gutenberg’s invention of movable allowed books to be mass-produced, and for almost four centuries, readers pretty much accessed books in the same way—they purchased them at bookstores, had a membership to a circulating library, or were lucky enough to borrow volumes from friends. (The wealthy, of course, could afford to amass fabulous collections of their own, and often bought books with plain cardboard coverings so they could bind them in fancy leather and gold-stamp decorations.)

When is a bonnet not a bonnet?

 The answer seems to be, when it's a hat. But it could be, "it's a mystery."

Hi, Jo Beverley here. As Pat said, we got talking about headwear, and I began to wonder when bonnets, in the way we usually think about them -- which I assume is as in the picture at the left -- came into being. 

Was the brimmed bonnet a 19th century invention? My experience is that in the mid 18th century at least, people spoke of hats, and they didn't have anything that tied beneath the chin. As in the picture at the right.  I know we have some costume experts here, so perhaps someone can expand on what I found out.

 The Oxford English Dictionary has this general definition of "bonnet" which is, A head-dress of women out of doors; distinguished from a hat (at present)  mainly by the want of a brim, and by its covering no part of the forehead.

It's a bit unsatisfactory. The "want of the brim" implies that in the earlier examples below the bonnet is what's sometimes called a Scotch bonnet, ie, more like a beret. The "out of doors" doesn't cover the many occasions when a bonnet is a soft, indoor head covering. But here we have these examples of usage.

My New Website

Anne here, popping in with a quick Sunday post to invite you all to take a peek at my brand new website.

www.annegracie.com

It's very spiffy and elegant and I'm thrilled to bits with it. The water color painting of the Regency girl (you can see a part of it here on the right) was done by an Australian friend of mine, Mel Scott, and the site itself was designed by a company in Texas, so it's nicely international.

Also connected with the site is my new blog. I've had to leave my old blogspot behind and use WordPress so it's all compatible with the website. Both website and blog are also cell-phone friendly, so you can read on your phone, which is apparently a must these days.

So have a look and tell me what you think.

And to all those currently shivering in the big blizzard in the east coast, I hope you stay safe and warm.

No Mad Hatter Here!

Pat here:

Behind the scenes, the wenches wandered into a discussion about hats and fell into a deep vat of fascinating history. Jo Beverley will bring you more about the origins of hats and carry her research up to the Regency period. I’m diving into the later eras where my shallow Leo can play with pretties, because after the Regency, hats were designed almost entirely for fashion and not necessity.

 

Petticoats and Plantagenets

All-American petticoat 1955

Doubtless you’ve occasionally stopped in your daily round and wondered, “Why do we call a kind of frilly slip a petticoat? Doesn’t that mean ‘Little Coat’ or something like that? You know, French petite meaning small and coat meaning . . . well . . . coat.”

A he-man's petty coat

When I think petticoat I think of the Fifties and something frilly and stiff, maybe worn under a poodle skirt.

Poodle skirts. Those were the days.

But petticoats were not always so.

I blame the Plantagenets. Also the Tudors. 

Originally the ‘little coat’ was indeed a little coat. Worn by men. In fact, worn by men in battle under their armor.

The petty coat or gambeson was a short padded jacket worn to keep all that warlike fitted metal from chafing those manly muscles. This is not the sort of thing I ponder upon every day, but it occurs to me the simple act of wearing metal was probably fairly uncomfortable all by itself, without any battles going on, not to mention chilly in winter.

Thus the original petty coat. It also likely helped stop edged weaponry that had gotten past the metal layer. Your men-at-arms and peasantry on the march wore a slightly longer, multilayered and quilted version of this as their only protection.

Bright red petticoat underneath her dress. 1570. Also a bird in  hand.

You cannot actually see the petty coat here. It's under the doublet.

By the end of the Fifteenth Century the petty coat was also a men’s undergarment of the same general form as the military wear. In the  Boke of Curtasye, the chainberlain is told to get ready for his lord a clene shirt and breeches, a pettycote, a doublette, a long cote, and a stomacher. The petty coat was worn between the shirt and the doublet

Perhaps it was these civilian versions of the under-armor petty coat that created confusion. By the last half of the Sixteenth Century, a petty coat was also a garment worn by women. It might be a skirt or a skirt with an attached bodice and even sleeves. It could be worn as underclothes or be an outer garment. They were often a startlingly bright red. 

The petticoat had jumped the gender barrier and become woman’s clothing. It never looked back.

Here we see just the petticoat itself

And here the petticoat and gown. This is a robe à la française

A hundred years or so later genteel woman’s dress evolved into a combination of gown and petticoat. The skirt of the gown was drawn back to show the petticoat below. The petticoat itself was a gathered skirt, often with a bodice. It had become a highly decorated garment, made of beautiful fabric.

Regency shift or chemise. Well hidden underwear.

This makes sense of the lines in the song Mary Hamilton,

“Cast off, cast off my gown, she cried,
but let my petticoat be
and tie a napkin round my face,
the gallows I would not see.”

Anyway, from all this you will see there is an old and venerable tradition of underwear/outer wear confusion and no real grounds for objection if folks choose to run about in camisoles, I suppose.

As we approach the Regency the rules change. A new style with slim lines, diaphanous  fabrics, and a high waist comes in. Exit the petticoat. For a few decades the undergarment of choice is the plain linen or cotton shift.

 

ETA: A clothing expert points out that petticoats never really disappeared in the Regency era. The garments worn under a dress might be reduced to a single layer, but it was not always a simple shift or chemise. Sometimes the elaborate design tells us these were meant to be seen.

 

 

I am rather wedded to trousers, myself, and out of touch with dresses,
but it might be fun to swish about in petticoats.

Does anyone miss petticoats?

A Special January Supper

Susan here, with thoughts on an upcoming Scottish holiday....

January 25, Burns Night, is just a week away, it's a good time to dust off and refresh an older post about Robert Burns and his special honorary supper tradition – what it's about,
and the stages of the dinner. Perhaps you're planning a Burns Night of your own, or you're a bit curious about what’s involved.

Robert Burns was one of Scotland's "favorite sons," a literary hero in this case, a late 18th century poet and songwriter, and Burns Night is a Scottish tradition held on the 25th of January –- or as near as one can get to it – in honor of Robert Burns’ birthday. Not everyone in Scotland, or Scottish descent elsewhere, celebrates Burns Night, yet it’s a widely known annual event in honor of a poet and songwriter, a brilliant, bold mind, a man who wielded a pen like a rebel and a romantic. He authored some of the best known Scottish poems and songs, including the best-known version of Auld Lang Syne.

Born in 1759 and becoming one of the literati of his day, Burns was of the educated upper working class so highly respected in Scotland. He spent much of his life in the Lowlands, chiefly in Edinburgh, and lived through times of revolution and enlightenment in Scotland. His writings helped create a romantic revival of Scottish culture and national pride at a time when the Scots were perhaps at their lowest ebb. He wrote about the noble heart of the Scots and of all mankind—and also wrote some very funny and often very raunchy verses. Burns loved women (literally and often). It’s easy to see why – add charm and a poetic sentiment to those good looks, and it’s no wonder he did well with the ladies.

In a larger sense, Burns helped to heal and restore Scottish pride through his songs and poems, uplifting the Scottish spirit in the decades after the Scots took a terrible beating in the devastation at Culloden in April 1746, and the humiliation under the English that followed--including the forbidding of the tartan until 1782. He wrote of Scottish freedom with fire and fervor: Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled /Scots wham Bruce has aften led / Welcome to your gory bed / Or to victorie!

He was well qualified to write romantic love songs and poetry and to his credit, he understood women and respected them as individuals. But he had a roving eye, and said himself that he was "a miserable dupe to love." He fathered several children but married only once, to the patient and generous-hearted Jean Armour. He understood love in all its forms, joyful and sad, frolicking and profound, and though he died too young, still in his thirties, his songs and poetry express emotional richness. 

The first Burns Supper was held by his close friends a few years after his death in honor of Burns’ love of good company and a fine time. Today the format is much the same -- various addresses and whisky toasts, the ritual welcoming of the haggis and a series of toasts. Burns is liberally quoted and creative interpretation is encouraged in the spirit of Burns' own rollicking sense of humor.

The stages of the dinner generally follow this format:

Piping in the guests– in grand style, with bagpipes if you can find a piper, but a CD will do.

The Selkirk Grace, written by Burns:
Some hae meat and canna eat
Some canna eat that want it
But we hae meat and we can eat
Sae let the Lord be thankit

Piping in the Haggis: the haggis is carried in on a silver platter to bagpipe music, and the whisky glasses are filled in anticipation of lots of toasts. 
Address to the Haggis: the reciting of "To A Haggis"  a long, and very funny, exultation by Burns which begins: Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face / Great chieftain o' the pudden race!

Toast to the Haggis: glasses are raised when the haggis is sliced, steaming hot, and served.

The main course follows -- a variety of traditional Scots fare might be served, but usually includes neeps ‘n tatties (turnips and potatoes). 

The Immortal Memory Toast – a fairly substantial address to the memory of Burns, this is often a mix of biography, poetry, and insights and can be funny as well as poignant, and should wrap up with a rousing toast to Robert Burns. Ultimately the address honors the man for his greatness and is sympathetic to his vulnerable side, and appreciates the streak of raucous humor in him too. 

The Toast to the Lassies: one of the male guests stands to address the ladies with a touching, reverent, brilliant...okay often bawdy...tribute to the female gender, and the whisky glasses are raised once again.

The Reply to the Laddies: one of the female guests stands to respond in kind. This can be bawdy, irreverent...and often points out the finer qualities of the male gender.

Then it's time for "Auld Lang Syne," either sung or listened to, and glasses are raised in final toast as the planned part of the festivities wraps up. Often things end with a final toast to Robert Burns, usually with a quote from the great man himself.

Here's one from "Scotch Drink" (Gie him strong drink/until he wink/that's sinkin' in despair), where Burns talks about the virtues of whisky: 
Food fills the wame, an' keeps us livin
Tho life's a gift no worth receivin
When heavy-dragg'd wi' pine an' grievin
But oil'd by thee
The wheel's o' life gae down-hill scrievin
Wi' rattlin glee.

So here's to the wheels o' life, and here's to Robert Burns!

Ask A Wench—an Exotic Question!

Cara/Andrea here, We were recently chatting among ourselves about and somehow strayed off topic (as we are often wont to do!) and the question arose: What is the most exotic place in which we have ever set a story? As we all started thinking back through our books, we decided it would be a fun thing to share in our regular "Ask A Wench" feature. So sit back and get out your atlas as we do a little globetrotting!

Mary Jo: As a kid in school, I was always fascinated by the map rack hanging at one end of the blackboard.  In particular, I'd wonder what was in the vast, empty expanses of Central Asia.  So it's probably not surprising that I headed there for my first historical series, the Silk Trilogy.
 
The first book, Silk and Shadows, takes place in England, but Peregrine, the hero, is a wealthy, mysterious prince from somewhere in Asia.  While researching his background, I came across the true story of an 1840s rescue mission to Bokhara in Uzbekistan, and was entranced.  That story because the inspiration for Silk and Secrets, second in the trilogy.  Which in turn led to Veils of Silk, which was set in India.
 

Shopping in my Closet

by Mary Jo

I know people who lead wonderfully uncluttered lives.  They don't overbuy and if they no longer need an item, out it goes.  I admire such people, but alas! I am not one of them.

An online friend used the phrase "shopping in my closet" when she told of pulling out a couple of items she'd forgotten she owned.  She found a garment she needed so she didn't have to buy anything new, but the phrase resonated with me.  It suggested exploding closets with mysterious and possibly dangerous depths, too much Stuff, and a meditation on Too Many Clothes and Never A Thing to Wear.


Exploding closets are a real issue since my house is not new enough to have massive walk in closets that are larger than the room I lived in my freshman year in college. (No, I'm not exaggerating.  That room was turned into a broom closet in later years, I'm told.) But even if I had a giant walk-in closet, all closets are finite, so eventually there will be Too Much Stuff.

 

Wood

Amongst all the best selling books of Christmas this last year was one called “Norwegian Wood: Chopping, Stacking and Drying Wood the Norwegian Way.” It’s not the first book you might anticipate hitting the bestseller charts though it does have a catchy title! I bought it for my husband for no better reason than he is interested in wood and we have two log burners in our home. He’s finding it engrossing: charmingly written, full of personal experience, showing how important timber is to different communities. Plus it is a beautifully presented book.

Revisiting Lord Derby

Hi, Jo here, confessing that she forgot today was her blog day. Clearly I'm still not in sync with 2016!

So I've pulled out an old post that's still of interest, where we can enjoy an imaginary visit to a London town house.

I just picked up a book called The Classic English Town House, by Rachel Stewart. It has Adam's plan for Lord Derby's house at 26, Grosvenor Square. I've seen it before, but this time I decided to simplify it to make the layout easier to follow, so we could imagine visiting it.

It's a plan for the refurbishing of the interior of an existing house, probably a similar one to these.

The plan is only of the ground floor and first floor, which is the second to an American. There were probably two more floors of bedrooms and servants' quarters in the attics. There was certainly a basement with storerooms, kitchens and other offices.

So here's the simplified plan of the ground floor. Remember, you can click on an image to see it in a larger size.

The house was about 30 feet wide.

Visiting the House.

(All that follows is my interpretation of what I've read. I'd love to have additional or conflicting information.)

Simple folk like us.
We knock at the door, which is in the center of the hall. Of course, being of the lower orders we're shooed away, or to the servents' entrance, but let's assume we have some reasonable reason for invading. We'll be left in the hall, or perhaps offered a chair under the beady eye of the porter. His quarters are the tiny square in the hall there.

If we're respectable enough, we would be taken to the anteroom whilst the footman goes to inform milord or milady of our arrival.

Dinner guests

Let's assume we're invited to the house to dine. You'll see that the dining room is on the ground floor. This is efficiently closer to the kitchens, but it's also on the public floor of the house, not the more intimate first floor. We will probably be taken through the anteroom to the parlour before the meal. If it is a gentlemen's meal, which they often were -- business lunches, in effect, and in the 18th century an afternoon meal -- then the diners might progress no further than the dining room.

However you'll see that beyond the dining room is the library, which would largely be a male domain, so some might be invited there after the meal for further discussions.  Beyond that lies milord's dressing room. There would be a single bed there for his use when not visiting his wife on the upper floor. Interesting to see both here and in milady's suite a water closet, though it's not clear where it discharges to.

If the meal was for gentlemen and ladies then the ladies would leave and go to one of the drawing rooms on the first floor to enjoy tea or coffee while the gentlemen got down to serious business over port and such.

A Rout

Now let's consider that popular form of entertaining, the rout. I assume, but do not know, that the name comes from route, because it was a matter of traveling through the house, seeing and being seen. For these events as much furniture as possible would be removed.

I've cut down to the drawing rooms. There's a reason for three. We enter the house and divest ourselves of cloaks and such, giving them into the care of our maid or valet. We go upstairs and work our way through the first, second, and third drawing rooms, where there's a convenient exit to the stairs and off we go!

A Ball?

These townhouses weren't suitable for grand balls, but the Third Drawing Room, at 22 x 33 feet could hold a small dance. In that case the other two rooms could be for cards or gossip.

Other Entertainments

There could be a musical evening, a card party, a salon of poetry and discussion, all in one or more drawing rooms. This museum room has no furniture, but we could enjoy the like.

I hope you enjoyed this visit. Remember, too, that this would be one of the grander townhouses in London, where land was scarce and expensive. Others were narrower and might have fewer floors.

The book The Classic English Town House points out that these small aristocratic houses only worked because they were surrounded by services. In the country the nobility could house many servants, incluing maintenance staff, services such as a bakery and brewhouse, and large storage areas. That wasn't possible in a London townhouse, but extra servants, food, drink, repair people and such were all around, for there wasn't much separation between rich and poor. If the house didn't have stables there would be a livery stable not far away.

In The Viscount Needs a Wife, Kitty goes to inspect their London house, which has been unused for a while. It's quite like this one. She's already dealt, or sort of, with the country house you see in the background of the cover. She likes the town house more. The book will be out in April, but it can be ordered now.

I hope you enjoyed this.

Cheers

Jo

Old Christmas Day

 Anne here, with the last of our daily Yuletide posts. It's Twelfth Night, Epiphany, Old Christmas Day, Christmas Day for some, Theofania if you're Greek, or merely the 6th January, depending on where you stand — and apologies to all the many other groups I've left out. Whatever, it's a significant date for a good many people around the world.

I've mentioned the ones I'm most familiar with. I live in a city with a huge population of Greeks (the biggest Greek city outside of Greece) so we know all about Theofania and the Blessing of the Waters ceremony. It's a lot easier here for the young men to dive for the cross, as it's summer. When I saw it years ago in Greece, they had to break the ice before diving in. Brrr!

One of my oldest friends is Ukranian, and like most Eastern Catholics (or Orthodox people) they're preparing for Christmas now, and their kitchens might look something like this. Those yummy little things are called varenyky. (Thanks, Michelle for the photo.)

Other people are taking down their Christmas decorations, because it's supposed to be bad luck to leave them up after the twelfth day of Christmas.

And for some folks in Regency England, it was called Old Christmas Day, because the calendar only changed in 1752, and the old folks remembered when the government stole eleven days from them.

The reason for that was all to do with the measuring of time, and the astronomical calculations of the length of a year. In Julius Caesar's time, Romans decided to measure the length of a year by the sun (instead of the phases of the moon.) One year was made up of 365 and a quarter days, organized into twelve months. However their calculations were not quite accurate enough and by the 16th century the calendar was ten days out.

In 1582, Pope Gregory redefined the official length of a year, deleted the ten extra days, and most of Catholic Europe obeyed. It was called the Gregorian Calendar.

England, however was Protestant and ignored the Pope's edict, and by the 18th century, England was eleven days ahead of the rest of Europe. Something had to give. An Act was passed and September 1752 was the target. One day it was 2nd Sept, the next it was the 14th. Before this change, however, Christmas Day was celebrated on 6th January — hence Old Christmas Day.

Does 6th January have any significance for you? I'm working on my next book, and in the breaks I'm taking down my (fairly minimalist) Christmas decorations. What are you doing today?

Settling into January

by Mary Jo

The holiday season is full of energy, buzz, decorations, fun, stress, deliciously decadent food, gathering with family and friends, receiving good surprises and sometimes disappointment.  The season is lovely--and it's also lovely when it's over and life goes back to normal!

At least, that's the case for this introvert.  Yesterday with the help of a friend and two of the cats (see pictures), I took down the tree and packed the ornaments away. 

I loved putting up the tree in December and the sparkly lights and ornaments with their own stories, but now I'm happy to have more open space in the living room again, less concern that a cat will bring the tree down, and I'm diligently picking up widely scattered strands of shiny tinsel.  

Recently a friend mentioned a book in which kids who wished it was Christmas all year round got their wish--and found they didn't like it.  Holidays are meant to be special, and that means time limited.  

I usually like January because it's quiet, a good time for working and reading and nesting.  How about you?  Do you enjoy the end of the Christmastide season?  Or do you wish it could be Christmas all year round?

Mary Jo

 

The Gift of Laughter

The holidays are a time of festive revelries—food, libations, gatherings with family and friends to celebrate the season and ring in the new year. For me, it's also a time that often stirs memories of the small family rituals that made it a special time when I was a kid. We're closing in on the Twelfth Day of Christmas, and that got me to thinking about the heirloom creche that always was set up in a prominent pace in the living room. My mother's family had brought it over from Switzerland, and the figures were quite old and fragile. (For those of you unfamiliar with the tradition, it's a model stable, with Mary, Joseph, the Christ Child, various farm animals, (at left is a surviving sheep) and the Three Kings. The Kings are placed some distance from the stable, and each day from Christmas to January 6th (the day the Kings are said to have arrived at the stable bearing gifts for the newborn King)  we kids were allowed to very carefully move the Kings closer and closer.

Now one year, the Baby Jesus, a tiny, delicate figurine made of ivory-colored wax, went missing from his cradle. (No one ever fessed up!) This was highly upsetting to my younger brother, who was about five at the time. I'm not sure if he feared Armageddon was imminent, but clearly he was worried that Christmas would be forever ruined if the Three Kings arrived and no newborn Prince of Peace was to be found.

We looked everywhere. No baby. Finally, in a stroke of divine inspiration, my mother (a very talented artist)w ent to the kitchen, dug up an ivory candle, retreated to her art studio, and set to work with an X-acto knife. She emerged shortly with a beautifully carved little cherub (I shall refrain from making impertinent jokes about an "Immaculate Conception") and tradition was saved! For years afterward, the setting up of the creche was a source of much laughter and merriment as the story was told and retold to countless friends.

It's the sort of thing that reminds me of how the unexpected glitches and bloopers are what families remember and cherish, much more than the perfectly ordered events. Sharing laughter over the times when things go awry and one is forced to improvise is what I feel is one of the real gifts of the holiday season.

 

A Birthday for Tolkien

Susan here, as our Yuletide celebration continues! Best wishes for a happy and prosperous New Year!

Each day in the Yuletide sequence has a special meaning of some sort, some more obscure than others – for instance, January 3rd in the old Celtic calendar is the original Beltane date, otherwise marked around the first of February.

And today, January 3, 2016 would have been J. R. R. Tolkien’s 124^th birthday, had he lived so long, in a Gandalf sort of way. So I thought it appropriate to give a nod to Tolkein on his day -– but how does that suit Yuletide and the New Year?

Quite well. Tolkien wrote and illustrated a wonderful series of letters from Father Christmas to his four children, beginning in 1925 until the children had outgrown their belief in Father Christmas. Each annual letter, handwritten and illustrated by Tolkein, told of the adventures at the North Pole of Father Christmas and his secretary-elf, Ilbereth, as well as the calamities of a certain polar bear, the mischief of the elves and the trouble with the Goblins that, now and then, attacked the North Pole sanctuary and sometimes made it quite difficult for Father Christmas to get those toys to good little boys and girls in England and all around the world …. The illustrated letters, each with watercolor drawings and Father Christmas’s shaky illuminated calligraphy, are simply magical.

The letters are all collected in The Father Christmas Letters, one of my own children’s favorite Christmas books – we read it each Christmas for years.

So in honor of Tolkien’s 124^th birthday –- and to mark the third day of the New Year -– here’s a little bit of his wisdom, thoughts to take with you into a wonderful New Year.

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.  
- The Fellowship of the Ring

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

- The Fellowship of the Ring

“May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.”  - The Hobbit 

“And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many.

-- Return of the King

 

Have a wonderful, wise and happy year! 

~Susan

Inbetweenish

Hi, Jo here, thinking January 2nd is neither here nor there!

We've had the Christmas frenzy and then the recovery, and swooped up to the beginning of a new year...

And now we're sort of wondering what to do next. Or I am.

Christmas and New Years Day being on a Friday has definitely thrown me off balance, because I've had the feeling both times that the holiday means it's Saturday! Today is the day after it all -- but's it's a Saturday, the beginning of a weekend, which is yet more holiday. Aieeeee!

I really should think about getting back to everything on Monday, but then it's almost Twelfth Night, and that's a traditional celebration as well as being the appropriate time to take down all the decorations. Perhaps I'll let next week slide by too....

So how are you coping with the way Christmas has fallen this year?

When will regular life resume for you?

Or has it already?

I visited Exeter Cathedral last week and spotted a memorial I'd not seen before. I can't imagine why not, because it's a bit odd. Is anyone's Latin good enough to translated it?  Who is Basil Guelielmi (or is that just the Latin for William) and why is it in Latin in the late 18th century. But mostly, why those little circumflexes over some of the letters? I welcome all input. You can see a larger version by clicking on it.

The next time I'll be blogging here we'll definitely be settled into regular times. I think I'll be quite relieved!

Cheers,

Jo

Happy New Year!

On behalf of all the Word Wenches, a very happy, peaceful, healthy and successful year to everyone, with lots of good books to read and lots of time to read them in! 

Traditionally the New Year is a time to reflect on the year that has gone and to plan for the year ahead, including the making of resolutions. It’s also a time to get together with family and friends, to celebrate and to indulge in our own personal and cultural traditions. Hogmanay, in Scotland, is one of the best-known New Year celebrations. In the town of Stonehaven there is a parade through the streets by kilted men swinging big balls of fire. In Turkey it is traditional to wear red lingerie to see in the New Year. In Denmark it’s appropriate to jump off a chair at Midnight on New Year’s Eve and smash plates against your friends’ doors to bring them good luck.

How do you celebrate the dawning of a new year? Do you have a special family custom or do you make New Year’s resolutions? Whatever your plan, I wish you a very Happy 2016!