July1st
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
- The Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776
America, you’re still The Beautiful to me.
{ happy birthday weekend }
photo: flickr
February14th
A bit o’ History on this Saint Valentine’s Day …
Saint Valentine’s Day, commonly shortened to Valentine’s Day, is an annual commemoration held on February 14 celebrating love and affection between intimate companions. It is traditionally a day on which lovers express their love for each other by presenting flowers, offering confectionery, and sending greeting cards (known as “valentines“). The day first became associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffrey Chaucer in the High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished. Modern Valentine’s Day symbols include the heart-shaped outline, doves, and the figure of the winged Cupid.
Chaucer’s Love Birds
The first recorded association of Valentine’s Day with romantic love is in Parlement of Foules(1382) by Geoffrey Chaucer.
Chaucer wrote:
For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.
["For this was Saint Valentine's Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate."]
This poem was written to honor the first anniversary of the engagement of King Richard II of England to Anne of Bohemia.
Using the language of the law courts for the rituals of courtly love, a “High Court of Love” was established in Paris on Valentine’s Day in 1400. The court dealt with love contracts, betrayals, and violence against women. Judges were selected by women on the basis of a poetry reading. The earliest surviving valentine is a 15th-century rondeau written by Charles, Duke of Orleans to his wife, which commences.
Je suis desja d’amour tanné
Ma tres doulce Valentinée…
In Roman mythology, Cupid (Latin cupido, meaning “desire”) is the god of desire, affection and erotic love. He is the son of goddess Venus and god Mars. In popular culture, Cupid is frequently shown shooting his bow to inspire romantic love, often as an icon of Valentine’s Day. He is now in the current culture the personification of love and courtship in general.AntiCupid is a recent mythical creation with no ties to the Greek origins of Cupid. Anticupid was “created” by the growing number of people that are sickened by the modern practices of Valentine’s Day. According to folklore and myth, Anticupid is the reason for relationship troubles and if one has made poor relationship choices then Anticupid is rumored to eat the soul of said persons during the weeks before Valentines day. This leads to large numbers of people that are angry and grumpy throughout the holidays and the months after it. Luckily, folklore suggests that Cupid works to restore the souls of Anticupid’s victims by eventually pairing them with someone with whom they can develop a successful relationship.
In 1797, a British publisher issued The Young Man’s Valentine Writer, which contained scores of suggested sentimental verses for the young lover unable to compose his own.
Paper Valentines became so popular in England in the early 19th century that they were assembled in factories. Fancy Valentines were made with real lace and ribbons, with paper lace introduced in the mid-19th century.
In the second half of the 20th century, the practice of exchanging cards was extended to all manner of gifts in the United States. Such gifts typically include roses and chocolates packed in a red satin, heart-shaped box. In the 1980s, the diamond industry began to promote Valentine’s Day as an occasion for giving jewelry.
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Whether you’re happily married, in blissful relationship infatuation, or single with a fancy to mingle, I wish each and every one of you a beautiful and passion filled Valentine’s Day.
xox
When you need a little more than a smile or a cup of tea to get your week in motion, the Sassy Starter will be here every Monday to get your wheels turnin’ in a classy – sassy – fabulous sort of way
information & photo source: wikipedia
December24th
December22nd
Later today I’ll be starting the trek back home to West Tennessee for the Holiday. It’ll take 12 hours of driving before I pull into the driveway and start stuffing myself with the classic array of homemade Christmas goodies, rearranging the characters of the nativity scene, and flipping the refrigerator magnets upside down (the last 2 to be done of course only out of love & in jest to pick at my Mother).
Indeed the Holiday marks a time of great traditions at many a home. A time filled with great joy and laughter and stress and the occasional family argument. I’ve mentioned in the past few weeks how the Spirit of the Season often escapes me and because of that, I’ve been notoriously proclaimed the Scrooge of my family and now, for the first time ever, I’m going to tell exactly why and how it all started.
I’m the youngest of four children and I remember Christmas at our house being one of the most exciting times of the whole year. The house would be all decorated, we would all help make the different cookies and I had a lot more people to play with during the day since my brothers and sister were home from school. On Christmas Eve, I would beg my parents to let me stay up to go to Candle Light Mass with my brothers and sister, even though the first couple of years I inevitably fell asleep half way through or spilled candle wax all over my dress. And come Christmas morning, Santa would have visited and we all had to line up in front of the fireplace for a picture, dressed up in all our glory, before we were allowed to even touch one single present. My parents would sit and watch us light up with every inch of paper we tore and bow we through to the side and the living room would be filled with such great wonder and joy and well, what I thought, magic. Everyone was happy. Everyone was together.
As the years passed, we all started to grow up. Somewhere along the line I stopped believing in Santa and realized the real Santa (the one who foot the bill) of our family was our Dad and our Mother went and got all the presents for everyone. But that to me wasn’t the saddest part of growing up and watching the Holiday change. For me it was that gradually, over time, people stopped coming home. It was sparingly at first but then the number started to dwindle down more and more. Less people were around on Christmas morning and the magic I had once loved started to dwindle with them. I started trying harder every year – a secret mission known unto myself – to capture that spirit of Holidays past and bring back what I loved so dearly about it all. But year by year I felt like it was all slipping away. I didn’t understand. And then, my junior year of high school, I simply gave up. It was the turning point where I, too, had to grow up and realize things would simply never be the same as they were. Not even for Christmas. And thus was my downward spiral into Scrooge-dom.
The blame doesn’t fall on any one person. There’s not even real blame to point. It just happens. Families grow up. New families are formed. Santa passes away. Factors such as work, in-law time share schedules, flights, finances and the like come into play, and you find yourself trying to see how many calendars can align with your own and say well – maybe next year to the ones that don’t fit.
These past few years I’ve made a new commitment to myself each year to chip away at the Scrooge that had taken place of my Christmas Spirit. Slowly yet surely it’s working and each year I feel less Scrooge-like and more, well, magic-like. It’s coming back, just in a new form. A grown-up form I guess.
Although I can’t even remember the last time we were all home on Christmas morning, I’ll always know …. somewhere in my memory …. those Christmas mornings I hold so dear will always live on.
Somewhere in My Memory by John Williams
(If you have trouble viewing this video, please click here.)
Because that’s what the Holiday is really all about, I think. The precious moments.
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The Music Snack comes out every Wednesday to put a little rhythm in your week. Requests are always welcome, so don’t be shy!
December21st
I’m sure you are guess I would chose a Holiday themed book for this month’s Book of the Month. And if indeed you were, you my friend are correct. I did opt to go for a Holiday Book, but probably not one you might have guessed. This book has stayed with me since my childhood and hands down has always been one of my favorite stories surrounding the Season. It’s not really your typical Christmas Story and it definitely wasn’t about your run-of-the-mill Christmas Pageant.
It’s the story of the Herdmans … and The Best Christmas Pageant Ever … by Barbara Robinson.
The best summary of the book can be found on it’s back cover. I thought re-writing one, but nothing covers it as well as this:
The Herdmans are the worst kids in the history of the world. They lie, steal, smoke cigars, swear, and hit little kids. So no one is prepared when this outlaw family invades church one Sunday and decides to take over the annual Christmas pageant.
None of the Herdmans has ever heard the Christmas story before. Their interpretation of the tale – the Wise Men are a bunch of dirty spies and Herod needs a good beating – has a lot of people up in arms. But it will make this year’s pageant the most unusual anyone has seen and, just possibly, the best one ever.
- Harper Trophy
Each year I revisit with the Herdmans. I’ve gone through quite a few copies of this book as eventually the pages fall out or I lose one here and there, but I always have one on my shelf. Besides, its good to pick up a children’s book every now and then. Gives you something to believe in.
I still love the images in my mind of the Herdmans banging their garage door up and down and running underneath it seeing if they can make it. And the crazy wild cat they have as a pet. And Imogene at the end of the pageant. She’s my kind of Mary….and this is my kind of Christmas Story.
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To pick up a copy of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, visit The Sassy Steel Magnolia eSTORE. *And if you’re a more traditional Holiday story kind of person, you can order a copy of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol there, too!
photo: wikipedia
Kiss me in your jealous rage.: What happens if you fall in love with a writer?
Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or…
just another day ……
