Happy Thanksgiving and On to St. Nicholas Day!

I hope everyone had a wonderful, peaceful Thanksgiving. Mine was very quiet. A bright spot was that the sickly little cat my son and daughter-in-law found a year-and-a-half ago, and promptly brought to me, ate mushed-up white turkey meat very, very well. I have to coax him to eat, and something he will eat willingly one day, he will refuse the next. Over seven vets now have not determined why he is so thin. We've tried so many tests and x-rays and ultrasounds. He is very happy and energetic, but I worry about his weight, even though he is a dastardly creature! 

Now our thoughts turn towards St. Nicholas Day! December 6th is his day, and the eve, December 5th, is when the children put out their shoes  (or a special "St. Nicholas boot") and leave food for his reindeer or donkey, in many olde countries. 

We don't have St. Nicholas in that form in the U.S., but we do harken to him in songs and poems where we hear about "Good St. Nick." He was evidently such a good man that he was later recognized as a veritable saint.

We also don't have Belsnickel, a very olde and strange gent. Many have heard of him because of the television show "The Office," where a character with a dour Pennsylvania Dutch background introduces the Old World precursor of St. Nick/Santa. The following is a summation from Wikipedia:

"Belsnickel is a man wearing furs and sometimes a mask with a long tongue. He is typically very ragged and disheveled. He wears torn, tattered, and dirty clothes, and he carries a switch in his hand with which to beat naughty children, but also pocketsful of cakes, candies, and nuts for good children.

"A first-hand 19th-century account of the "Beltznickle" tradition in Allegany County, Maryland, can be found in Brown's Miscellaneous Writings, a collection of essays by Jacob Brown (born 1824). Writing of a period around 1830, Brown says, "we did not hear of" Santa Claus. Instead, the tradition called for a visit by a different character altogether:

He was known as Kriskinkle, Beltznickle and sometimes as the Christmas Woman. Children then not only saw the mysterious person, but felt him or rather his stripes upon their backs with his switch. The annual visitor would make his appearance some hours after dark, thoroughly disguised, especially the face, which would sometimes be covered with a hideously ugly phiz [mask] - generally wore a female garb - hence the name Christmas Woman - sometimes it would be a veritable woman but with masculine force and action. He or she would be equipped with an ample sack about the shoulders filled with cakes, nuts, and fruits, and a long hazel switch which was supposed to have some kind of a charm in it as well as a sting. One would scatter the goodies upon the floor, and then the scramble would begin by the delighted children, and the other hand would ply the switch upon the backs of the excited youngsters - who would not show a wince, but had it been parental discipline there would have been screams to reach a long distance."

My family certainly kept the switch tradition alive. I often got switches (small flexible branches/long twigs) for Christmas, and I was often "switched" with them.

This is a modified representation of Belsnickel, straddling the fence between him and St. Nicholas. Note he still has his bundle of switches and a rather aggressive stance. For myself, I prefer the genial and gentle St. Nicholas!

What IS Primitive Style, and New Holiday Tags Up in Shoppe!

I spent a lot of time this past week prepping my new holiday tags for my Etsy shoppe, TheMerryOldeDame. I love making digital images to print, and I lean towards the primitive style. But I love almost any kind of illustration style. Back when I worked for Hallmark, I would spend literally hours just staring at the incredible array of design styles. 

My husband can't stand Hallmark. He condemns their designs as cheesy, intrusive, silly, and unattractive. If I buy a card for him, he flips it over and scowls in case it's Hallmark. So, it's American Greetings for him. I like some of the Leanin' Tree designs, but most of them (pseudo-country folk style) I find appalling and coarse. I do not find the trope of the skinny, pot-bellied, whiskered old broken-down cowpoke in his red long-johns very amusing, nor his female counterpart, the square-dance skirted old fat gal squeezing the life out of him with a big toothy grin and red cheeks. I am glad Hallmark has so far avoided the "Cowpoke/Country Bumpkin" motif.

Now, this is something I go round and round with, with my prim friends: Primitive does not mean dirty and broken. At least to me, it doesn't. Aged, a bit grungy, like a mirror that has an aged and flaked backing, yes. People find very old, uncared-for "primitive" items and mistake those items as representing prim style. Originally, those items were not broken. They were not dirty. They worked. They held water. They opened and shut. They were NEW. The primitive STYLE, in my very humble opinion, is one done simply, in a naive way, with the materials of the day, AND the better-quality mass-produced items of the times, such as crocks, churns, "Hoosiers," etc. Project your mind back in time: Originally, these things were new. The colors were even, and they weren't all drab, by any means. It's not my business, but sometimes my eyes almost pop when I see people with some rusted out, broken, dry-rotted THING dragged into their nice clean house.

One area where extremely grungy and unpleasant-looking items might be true to the original primitives is in the area of dolls and stuffed animals. I recall that Laura Ingalls Wilder had only a little corncob "baby doll" to love for quite some time, before getting a rag doll she loved intensely. And my aunt had a very aggressive-looking rag doll, as well, with its teeth bared and beady eyes, that she had doted on. 

That isn't to say I don't treasure a lot of old items just for their age and history! I do! I guess that Tasha Tudor and Colonial Williamsburg are more in line with what I think of as primitive style. But to each their own! If it brings joy, embrace it!

Lothlórien from Lord of the Rings

I was a Lord of the Rings admirer as a young teen. I was always a bookworm, and after reading and rereading all of the Walter Farley horse books, and Marguerite Henry's horse books, and the Little House and Anne of Green Gables series, I borrowed a copy of "LOTR" from one of my older brothers, and was smitten. I read it, reread it, and really haven't stopped reading it since. I'm not sure why it resonates with me, but I think I like the idea of lore and wisdom being important in a society. I also like the idea that an individual's bravery and loyalty in what might seem like small things, is elevated and understood to be valiant.

I live very near the world's largest pecan grove, and when the pecan leaves start turning yellow, the area looks, to me, like the fabled Elven wood Lothlórien in the book. 

I love to drive through the orchards during fall. Actually, I love the drive any time of year. The pecans are falling already, and they will soon be harvesting. Here, they do not try for the Christmas market. Our pecans bear later than Southern groves and are harvested too late for the holiday market. But they travel all over the U.S. and the world. The sister farm to the one here is in Australia -- and is the second-largest in the world. Funny how in the middle of the desert, pecans thrive, if given good river water.

And here is some pecan lore! If you have ringworm, take the green husk of a pecan, cut or break a piece off, and rub the juice on the ringworm area. It will cure it. However, pecan "juice," like walnut juice, will stain your skin, nails, and hair quite badly, and you have to just let it wear off. Boys with crewcuts were forever getting ringworm when I was in elementary school, and they often sported the yellow-brown stain of a pecan husk. But if faced with ringworm and no way to cure it, as it was before fungicides became available, I would definitely use the green husk. This spring, get a few green pecans and store them in your freezer, just in case! 

11-11: Veteran's Day

November 11, which can also be written 11-11, is Veteran's Day in the U.S. and Remembrance Day in what was the British Empire. 

11-11 is sometimes referred to as "Philosophical Time," as well. Some believe that  unusual things happen more frequently at 11:11 than can be explained by chance or coincidence, and indicate synchronicity (meaningful coincidences that are not actually "just" coincidences). Some claim that glancing at a clock right at 11:11 is an auspicious sign. I knew a philosophy major in college who stopped his then-new and modern "digital flip clock" right at 11:11.

I'd guess things happening at 11:11 is more a curiosity than anything connected on some strange level, but who knows?

Regardless, I am glad there is a day devoted to recognizing and thanking veterans for their service. I wish the world had already reached a point where military service would be a very rare and perhaps ceremonial occupation, but we are not there yet.

If a veteran is reading this, "Thank you for your service."

Thank'ee for stopping by.

    Kind regards,

    The Merry Olde Dame

Rare Hallowe'en Blue Moon Approaches

For the first time since 1944, a full moon visible to the entire world will happen on Hallowe'en night. 

A "blue moon" is the second full moon within a month. Thus the saying, "Once in a blue moon," as that's not a common occurrence. But a full moon visible the world over, instead of just certain sections, that falls on Hallowe'en is much rarer.

I have to wonder about those who were gazing up at the 1944 full moon, back when WWII raged and Hallowe'en was so very different.

Full moons and Hallowe'en bring homemade popcorn balls to mind. I am old enough to remember homemade treats handed out at Hallowe'en. One neighbor made fantastic popcorn balls, flavored with vanilla and studded with cocktail peanuts still wearing their red skins, now coated with hardened sugar syrup. 

Full moons feature prominently on antique and vintage Hallowe'en postcards. Here is one, below.

 

    Kind regards,

    Olde Dame Holly Rose

As Predicted, An Early Snowfall

You may recall an earlier post where I said the nature signs I read showed that we would have an early snowfall, with winter buffeting its way in before autumn had her turn. And that is what has happened, with the earliest and heaviest snowfall on record in my area, and much of the U.S. with unseasonably cold and snowy days.

My seed gleaning has come to a complete stop until the snow melts, and sadly, many of the seeds I've had my eye on will not be able to ripen for next year. I'm glad I gathered as much as I could before this snowy snap.

 

My lovely fiesta-colored lantana was blooming so beautifully in one of the fire rings I use as planters in my front courtyard. Lantanas love warmth, so it will die to the ground now. I hope the roots survive. I have pine straw from our front pines as a mulch over much of my courtyard. 

Stay warm, wherever you be!

Scary Spider Advertising Card from Yesteryear

Spider webs are made from spider silk, and are very strong. Old lore says that spider webs laid over a cut can stop the bleeding, and heal the wound, preventing infection.

When I was taking Anatomy and Physiology, I eventually noticed that the vast majority of important and active biological compounds seemed to be proteins. So it isn't surprising that spider silk, a protein, is very biologically active. It is also full of Vitamin K, which is used to help stop bleeding and to heal cuts.

Spider webs used for healing is very, very old lore, dating perhaps to the time of Christ. Later, it is even mentioned in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, by the unfortunate weaver, "Nick Bottom." I wonder if Shakespeare meant for one weaver to invoke another.

Here is a turn of the century trading card featuring a jolly giant spider who has easily trapped a tiger with her silk. Spiders were not always as feared as they seem to be today: Once, they were considered quite lucky, and the Germans (of course it's the Germans) even have a Christmas folktale starring a sweet spider who decorates a tree for the Christ Child with her silk. I believe the song "The Little Drummer Boy" to have borrowed the idea of someone (or something, in the case of the spider) with no worldly goods, honoring the birth of Jesus with a humble and heartfelt gesture within their ability to give.

Thank'ee for dropping by.

    Kind regards,

    Olde Dame Holly Rose

Urban Gleaning: Seed Saving Time

In my area, this is the time to be gleaning the urban landscape and saving seeds.

I love plants and always look for unusual or beautiful plantings as I go about my life. Beginning in September, I began stopping at various public plantings and noting any seed pods or seed heads. Now I use my notes to return to areas and gather seeds from the sidewalks and streets. 

I am extremely lucky to have access to a very rare fruit tree that had a bumper crop this year. It is a steady seller on Etsy for me. Piggybacking on that rare tree, I have been adding unusual desert plants to my seed bank, and they also are now selling. I expect a big burst of sales in spring, and by that time many traditional plant seeds I've gathered, such as wisteria, will have finished drying, and be ready to plant.

Today I gathered four kinds of seeds within steps of each other: Desert Willow and its orchid-like blooms, Mexican Bird of Paradise with bright red-and-yellow-catch-a-fellow blossoms, Golden Rain Tree (we also called it Golden Chain Tree) with its pink "paper lantern" seed pods, and another lucky find, the Desert Museum Palo Verde with its yellow five-petaled speckled flowers and edible pods.

 

Yes, the Palo Verde has delicious seeds in the pods, much like endame. When green, the pods can be blanched and the seeds eaten plain or salted. They can also be blanched, then roasted with spices. Due to the unusual bloom activity so late in the season, trees have blossoms, fully dried pods and new green pods at the same time right now. With snow flurries expected tomorrow, I think that will end soon!

I am grateful for the bounty these public plantings are providing me, and happy that more people now get to plant these seeds and enjoy the unique plants. I trade seeds in several seed-trading groups, too. Trading is a wonderful way to get seeds you've always wanted, usually for the price of a stamp or two.

    Kind regards,

    Olde Dame Holly Rose

Lore: The Curfew Bell...

We think of a curfew as a time to retire; as teens long ago, many had parental "curfews" meant to keep them safe and back in their homes, with curfews on school nights much earlier than those on the weekend or in summer. But the curfew bell does double duty, for the world of the living and the world of the unseen...

In olden times, towns and cities often had curfews set by the authorities. The "curfew bell" would ring loud and plain around 8 p.m., warning townspeople to get inside and prepare for bed. Townspeople hurried home, not wanting to be fined or jailed for being out after the last peal of the bell. Shutters, which were working protections at the time, unlike their decorative cousins of today, were hung or unfolded, and locked. Doors were locked as well, and many times so were gates. Fires were banked for the night, and children were put abed. Thus secured, adults sat by the still-warm stove and whiled the rest of the evening away until bedtime.

The curfew bell was a signal that the day was over -- to us in the realm of the living and the mundane. But to the denizens of "the other side," and the magical folk, the curfew bell was a glad sound, indicating they could now go abroad in the night, flitting and frisking until morning. As the last peal of the bell faded away, fairies and ghosts sashayed into the empty streets, until their own curfew sounded -- the first cock crow.

I love folklore, and this time of year, I enjoy scaring myself a bit with the less-upsetting lore. Do you know any low-octane spooky lore?

    Kind regards,

    Olde Dame Holly Rose

Granny's Depression-Era Make Do Clothes Hangers

My maternal grandmother was a woman of many unusual talents. She had played high school basketball before the turn of the twentieth century, yet she also excelled at all the housewifely arts of sewing, keeping a home, cooking, and gardening. She had chickens and a milch cow, and a garden second only to my own mother's in terms of rare and unusual plants. 

She was six feet tall in bare feet, but we never saw her in bare feet. She always wore heels. Even her slippers were tall heels. She said she had worn them for so long that she could not walk in flats. I thought her very elegant in those heels.

Granny was a magician at the art of making do. These clothes hangers were wrapped with long strips of leftover cloth, and decorated with a gathered cloth flower. And this was done during the Depression, when every last scrap was important and was used. She also made braided rag rugs of all sizes, and her sense of color was astounding.

They say interests tend to "skip" a generation: My own mother did not care for such endeavors. Deeply marked by the privations of the Depression and the shock of World War II, she and my father rarely spent money, but they both preferred to buy, in a very limited manner, our home's decor. I grew up fascinated by my Granny's handiwork, though, and spent many hours embroidering and hand-sewing little items in imitation of hers.

In the rush of my most recent move, I had to leave many things behind. All of my padded hangers, laboriously collected from various estate sales over a period of 20 years, were left. I like the slim profile of the old wire hangers, so I think I may try to wrap a few hangers myself now. 

    Kind regards,

    Olde Dame Holly Rose

Crafting Thrift: Strange and Wonderful

I like to go to estate sales (well, I enjoyed going before COVID, since now they are all online in my area), not really to try to grab some fine item at a reduced price, but to look for thrifty crafts of yesteryear. I also buy any lots of old Christmas cards from mid-century to earlier. If they are used, so much the better.

Some treasures bought include long coils of folded and interlocked gum wrappers, bracelets made from fishing lures and uneven old seed beeds, coasters stitched from scraps of calico sewn over several pieces of cardboard, and trivets crocheted around old pop bottle tops.

I like to make these sorts of "treasures" myself; I have always enjoyed these make-do oddities. In that vein, I decided to use the wax rind of a mini gouda cheese to make "berries" for a plain dried twig. It was easy to roll up some little balls and just push them onto the twig here and there. 

The other wax rinds were pressed into pinecones from the yard, and the cones put into paper fast food bags. I add a few small twigs into the bag, twist it closed, and I have an excellent fire-starter. I also like to use the spent wax from my tart warmers for these fire-starters.

Do you have any strange and thrifty make-do's from yesteryear or today?

Using Early Snowfalls in the Garden

I feel we may have early snows this year. If your area gets a snowfall before the ground freezes, be sure to till in the snow in your vegetable patch, if you have a tiller. If you don't, drag a rake up and down the soil, trying to stir the soil and mix in the snow. Autumn snows tilled into soil are called "poor man's fertilizer," and will give you bountiful yields next year.

For your house plants, gather up clean snow and fill buckets with it. Put inside the house to melt, and pour into old water jugs, and cap. This snow-water will act as an elixir for your indoor plants. Dole it out like medicine. 

It's not fun, but try to keep your garden beds and under trees leaf-free so that you are ready to take advantage of a snowfall, and to take away the shelter for destructive insects. The good insects will find hiding places in your compost pile, along with the bad ones. The bad ones won't be right by their preferred food source any longer, which is very helpful come spring. 

If the snowfalls are heavy enough this autumn, heap up snow around bushes and trees. Knock it off the branches as much as you can by shaking them or hitting them with a fishing pole, but don't be afraid of the snow being heaped up around the plant. It will not freeze it "more;" it will actually insulate it and provide a very long "drink" for the plants as it melts. 

If you can, use good plain sand on your walks and stepping stones. The salts used to melt snow are not good for plants. But most of all, do what you need to in order to stay safe and not fall. Plants can be replaced; so can hips, but what a cost to health and pocketbook!

Here's hoping for one or two early snows for our garden darlings. 

    Kind regards,

    Olde Dame Holly Rose

Will It Be A Harsh Winter? The Signs Say...

I was taught this little rhyme many years ago:

Man is but a mortal fool:

When it's hot, he wants it cool.

When it's cool, he wants it hot.

He only wants what he has not.

Very true! I have seen a slightly different version of that poem credited to Benjamin Disraeli, who probably had had it up to THERE with people's complaints.

There's also this saying, pithy and still true: "The wealthy get their ice in summer; the poor theirs in winter." It sounds like something from the 1920s.

Besides mooning for something, anything, we don't have, humans also like to know what is going to happen, weatherwise. Thus, there is a tremendous, and most probably worthless, lot of lore about whether there will be a harsh or a mild winter coming our way.

 

I have been examining several weather signs, and so far, they all agree: Harsh winter.  

The onions have a thick, insulating layer this year, and corn husks are thick

The leaves have begun turning early

Thick clustering of pinecones, far more than usual

Owls calling and hunting heavily

Doves bedding down earlier

Tiny ants running in a line

Big ants tugging too-big seeds backwards

However, mice behavior isn't indicating a harsh winter. They are going about their mouse business as usual.

2020 was bound to try to end strangely! But remember this: A hard winter brings a lucky spring.

    Kind regards,

    Olde Dame Holly Rose