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November 28, 2010
Gone to pot ..... Winter 2010
Have you ever wandered round the garden in December with your hands in your pockets to protect them from the chill, only to marvel at the contents found - like William Brown's, of the Just William stories, with the exception of the catapult?
Perhaps this might be a useful addition but I know my aim is not what it should be. There are labels from long forgotten plant purchases, which in my heart of hearts I knew would not flourish in my "limey" soil; one label stating artemesia, although my late lamented gardening pal and I were convinced it was ageranthemum wrongly labelled, so I keep it as an aide memoire just in case I ever find out its true identity; some nifty split plastic rings supplied with some bottles of wine holding "money off" vouchers, which are very useful for tying in unruly plants; small pieces of string which I can't bear to throw away as they may come in useful, although I always forget their existence and cut new lengths off the ball; all manner of small pieces of china and pottery which I keep in the hope that one day I will have sufficient to do something arty with - my road to hell etc; some mouldy walnuts, most of which we watched the resident squirrel knocking off the tree and subsequently storing for a winter feast, so by the law of averages we should have an orchard of walnut trees; (I have some fledgling trees if anyone can give one a home); an odd gardening glove, which I have searched everywhere for and of course, lots of soil! It's no wonder the jacket got heavier as the year progressed.
The Christmas season is approaching rapidly - presents to buy and wrap, cards to write, festive fare to be planned with military precision - silly really as the shops are only closed for one day. Fortunately, we no longer eat a boar's head. The custom of serving this as a Christmas dish is said to derive from Norse mythology. Freyr, the god of peace and plenty, rode a boar called Gullinbursti and a boar was sacrificed in his honour at his festival, held at Yuletide. I wonder if there is sufficient meat on a boar's head to feed a hungry family?
With the advent of central heating we no longer have hearths or hearths large enough to accommodate a Yule log. Traditionally, a great log of wood was laid across the hearth with great ceremony on Christmas Eve and lit with a brand from the previous year's log. Custom has it that the log should burn until Twelth Night to ensure warmth for the rest of the winter. I heard a lovely story of a man who felled a tree which just fitted into his cabin - he lit the end of the hearth and as it burnt down he just pushed the tree further into the fire - this would last him all winter, but I can't help thinking what a fire hazard it must have been!
Wassail, a bowl of spiced ale, has its origins in Old Norse, ves heill, meaning "be in health". It was carried round the parishes by young women on New Year's Eve singing couplets of homely verses composed for the purpose and offering draughts to the inhabitants hoping for a small gratuity in return. Sadly this drink has been ousted from fashion by the more "sophisticated" mulled wine, champagne cocktails, etc.
The modern equivalent would be carol singers going from door to door before Christmas. Unfortunately, with the high incidents of petty crime, people are reluctant to open their doors once it is dark - such a sad reflection on the society in which we live. The first printed collection of Carols came from the press of Wynkyn de Worde in 1521. It included the Boar's Head Carol which is still sung at Queen's College, Oxford.
Part of our traditional fare is the mince pie - once made with meat and dried fruits in a coffin shape. It was said to symbolise the manger in which Jesus was laid and the paste over the "offering" was made in the form of a hay rack. A friend of mine tries to eat twelve mince pies, each made by a different person, to ensure good health throughout the coming year.
Our Christmas tree has its origins in Roman times, although was reintroduced to Britain from Germany in 1840 by Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. On holiday in Cornwall several years ago, I went to listen to a Story Teller - she had a basket of items and we were each asked to pick one out. I picked a spider and she related the tale of how a very poor housewife in times past had a fit of spring cleaning just before Christmas - she was diligent and ousted all the spiders from the far corners where they had found what they thought would be a safe and warm place to spend the winter - no corner was left untouched and an army of spiders became homeless. Meanwhile her family had been to the forest and cut down a fir tree to decorate their house for Christmas, but having no money, were unable to decorate it in any way. However, on Christmas morning they awoke to a dazzling sight - the spiders had found the tree and spun webs all over the branches.
Although the keeping of Christmas has its origins in the mists of time and the setting of the December date and most of its traditions are pre-Christian, the symbolic presences and goodness of Christ is of more importance than any factual dating - I hope you all have a very happy Christmas and a peaceful New Year.
Floreat Hortus
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