HAPPY SOLSTICE/YULE

"Solstice" by Jane Starr Weils

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The winter solstice officially occurred at 12:04 A.M. Universal Time, and here in the central United States, at 6:04 A.M. today. From this, the shortest day of the year, the days will now lengthen. Pagans, druids and others in the pre-Christian world celebrated this day as Yule. It was a celebration of the return of light, and I can imagine just how much more it meant in those dark days than it does in these days of electricity.

Still, even us modern folk yearn for the longer days of spring. And today, the process begins, as the sun tilts on its axis toward the sun.

I celebrate this day with a bunch of images I've pulled from the 'net. I had a feeling that fantasy artists would be drawn to the subject of yule/solstice. And I was right. Here, for your solstice pleasure, are yule and holly kings and queens, fairies and druids, green men and goddesses.

"Yule Holly King" by Wendy Andrew

"Yule Angel" card by Anne Stokes

"Yule Druid" - no attribution given

"Yule Fairy" - no attribution given

"Yule Fairy" - no attribution given

"Yule Queen" by Mary Layton

(Also check out her "Yule Blessings" in my

"I am the Christmas Spirit" post from Dec. 5)

"Winter Solstice" card by Briar

"Yule Queen" by Wendy Andrew

"Spirit of Yule" by Anne Stokes

"Peace at Yule" by Wendy Andrew

"Christmas Light" by Meredith Dillman

"Lady of Lights" card by Briar

"Holly King" - No attribution given

"Bright Blesssings" Yule card by Briar

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For a couple more images, here's a link to the Winter Solstice post I wrote last year:

http://celticanamcara.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-winter-solstice_21.html

And for some lovely solstice poetry, please check out Leanne's post for today:

http://www.somersetseasons.blogspot.com/

NOTE ADDED MONDAY MORNING:

Someone asked for a link to the Briar cards, and I am so glad I went to check it out, because I found the artist of two paintings I had no attribution for (Anne Stokes). Following are links to all the artists I mentioned: Briar: www.eastgateresource.co.uk; Wendy Andrew: www.paintingdreams.co.uk; Anne Stokes: www.annestokes.com; Meredith Dillman: www.meredithdillman.com; Jane Starr Weils: www.janestarrweils.com; Mary Layton: www.marylayton.net.

SCANDINAVIAN CHRISTMAS CUSTOMS

"YULEGILDE" BY LARS JORDE

I had already been planning a post on Scandinavian Christmas customs this year, since I am one-half Norwegian (minus a small fraction represented by a Swedish great-great-something- grandmother). Also, my husband is part Danish. In searching the Internet for illustrations for this post, I found the Christmas painting, above, by Norwegian artist Lars Jorde.

MY GRANDMA'S, SORE PLASSEN, NORWAY

Imagine, then, my surprise when my Cousin Kevin recently sent me photos of his summer trip to Norway. Can you see the resemblance between the house our Grandma Julia grew up in and the house in the painting? This coincidence, plus photos of the interior of Grandma's house, made me eager to re-explore how my great-grandparents, Ole and Margrete Wangen, and their children - Olaf, Jennie, Julia and Marie - might have celebrated Christmas.

"NORWEGIAN COUNTRY YULETIDE"

BY ADOLPH TIDEMAND

The painting above shows a Norwegian stabbur, or storehouse. Sore Plassen only had a barn and not a stabbur, as far as I can tell, but many, many Norwegian farms did and do have them. On the pole atop of the stabbur you can see a julenek (definition below).

"CHRISTMAS EVE" BY SWEDISH ARTIST CARL LARSSON

In ancient times, Christmas in Norway was a mid-winter feast - a festival of lights marking the transition from the dark winter to spring and summer. In the 900s King Haakon I decided that the heathen custom of drinking Jul (Yule) was to be moved to December 25th, in honour of the birth of Jesus Christ. Gradually, the pagan feast was Christianized, but the name Jul was retained. Norwegian Christmas is thus a mixture of ancient heathen and Christian traditions.

Our Norwegian ancestors took Advent seriously. They also used that time to do all the Christmas baking, and the brewing of the special Christmas beer, juleol.

On Christmas Eve Day, the tree was decorated by the parents behind the closed doors of the living room, while the children were bursting with excitement outside.

It was also usual on Christmas Eve Day to make a trip to the barn with a bowl of porridge for the "nisse", the gnome who -- according to superstition -- was the protector of the farm. Nowadays this ceremony is performed for the benefit of the children, but grandmother might possibly have an uneasy feeling that the little fellow could actually exist. (More about nisse below.)

But the nisse is not the only one to be given a treat; the julenek, a sheaf of oats for the birds, is mounted on a pole, and the farm animals get a special Christmas feed.

In days of old, Christmas Eve began with the ringing of the bells at 5:00 PM. The Christmas story was read from the Bible, then the evening meal was served.

The main dish on Christmas Eve was usually lutefisk - codfish preserved in lye and boiled. Other items on the menu might be potatoes, rutabagas, cabbage, risengrot (rice pudding) or rommegrot (sour cream pudding), gingerbread or julekakke, a sweet Christmas bread filled with raisins, candied peel and cardamom.

"But the children do not usually enjoy the meal very much. Their eyes keep turning to the closed living room door, and they grow more and more impatient with the unbearably slow pace with which their elders finish the meal. It seems to them as if an eternity has passed when the big moment arrives and the door to the living room is thrown open.

The children tumble in, only to stop short, awestruck by the sight of the tree, aglow with the light from real candles, and with the neatly wrapped gifts heaped underneath." (Vera Henriksen, Norway Info)

Then followed a Norwegian ritual known as "circling the Christmas tree". Everybody joined hands to form a ring around the tree, and the family and guests walked around it singing carols.

Finally, the gifts were distributed. Later, they might have one of the traditional seven kinds of Christmas cookies and a cup of glogg, a spicy drink with raisins and chopped almonds. Here is the link my post from last December about Norwegian cookies and pastries: http://celticanamcara.blogspot.com/2007/12/scandinavian-treats.html

On Christmas Day, the family went to church. In the afternoon the children went from door to door asking for treats and goodies. This practice was called Julebukking. The traditional Christmas Day meal usually featured pork as the main dish.

"NOW IT'S CHRISTMAS AGAIN" BY CARL LARSSON

It wouldn't be a traditional Scandinavian Christmas without the Norwegian Julenisse or the Swedish Jultomte. Legend has it that nisse and tomte were mischievous domestic sprites who resided in the pantry or barn. They were responsible for the protection and welfare of the farmstead and its animals, especially the horses. The original nisse and tomte were about the size of a young child. They had an enormous capacity for work but would not tolerate anyone's interference. It was believed that a clean and orderly home or farm was an indication that these elfin presences resided there.

A NISSE WAITING FOR HIS PORRIDGE
(Will the kitty get it instead?)

The present-day version of the Julenisse or Jultomte is very different from the legendary gnome. In modern-day Scandinavia he is more like St. Nicholas or Santa Claus. He is is portrayed as an older, good natured, adult-sized man with a long white beard and a red hat and suit. He carries a sack of toys on his back, visits children in their homes on Christmas Eve and always asks, “Are there any good children here?” ("Er det noen snille barn her?")

JULTOMTE AND HIS JULBOK

Norwegian nisse can also take the form of a Christmas buck, or or Julebukk, which dates back to the Vikings and pagan traditions of worshipping Thor and his goat. In Sweden the Jultomte is accompanied by a Julbok, a Christmas goat who pulls his sleigh as he delivers gifts to the children’s homes.

Scandinavian children today still leave a bowl of porridge (julegrøt) with plenty of butter (nisse are greedy for butter) out in the barn or in the house for the Julenisse or Jultomte on Christmas Eve. It is said that if the nisse is pleased with his gift, he will treat the family well. If not, he will play tricks on them!

NISSE HAVING PORRIDGE

Next week I'll do a post on traditional Scandinavian Christmas tree decorations and other holiday decor.

A VINTAGE NORWEGIAN CHRISTMAS CARD

(There's Grandma's house again!)

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NOTE ADDED WEDNESDAY NIGHT: My grandmother, who was 17 at the time, and her two sisters and brother emigrated from Norway in 1912 after both their parents died. Sore Plassen, once terribly neglected, has been restored and is now a weekend home. The new owner graciously let my cousin visit the house and take photographs.

MY TEN BEST CHRISTMAS BOOKS

THE BEST CHRISTMAS PAGEANT EVER!

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On this cold, dark December night, those of us in North Dakota are beginning to experience the effects of some truly dreadful weather that has been threatening the region. Tomorrow, the temperatures promise to plunge into the deep freeze and we will have 40 MPH winds and snow. Oh, joy, a December blizzard.

But I have found at least a modicum of the Christmas Spirit over the week, thanks, in no small part, to my blogging friends. I appreciate your comments so very, very much!

This past week was unusually mild, and I took advantage of it to get some Christmas shopping done. (Due to having a bad knee I mostly let my fingers do the walking on the Internet for Christmas shopping this year.)

Anyway, the mild weather is now history. But Dan, myself and the doggies are snug, warm and cozy in our house and have bacon and eggs for brunch tomorrow, and frying chicken for supper. In between, I hope to decorate the house (we had planned to get our tree tomorrow but THAT won't happen!).

And while decorating, I will bring out the Christmas books that have been tucked away for a year. Do you have favorite Christmas books? I do, including Christmas art, anthologyand song books, coffee table books, mini gift books, etc., dedicated to the subject. But there are other books that tell a Christmas story (not necessarily THE Christmas Story).

I was thinking about my favorite "Christmas story" books the other day, and decided to Google "Best Christmas Books". I found several such lists. From them, and by putting on my thinking cap, I came up with my own list (in NO particular order):

1. "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens (novella).

2. "A Child's Christmas in Wales" by Dylan Thomas (I have the audio CD of Thomas reading this lovely memoir).

3. "A Christmas Memory" by Truman Capote (novella).

4. "(The Story of) Holly and Ivy" by Rumer Godden (children's book).

5. "The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry (short story).

6. "A Visit From St. Nicholas ('Twas the Night Before Christmas)" by Clement Clarke Moore (illustrated poem). (There is a link to this poem in the post below.) (The best choice out of many editions available: The one illustrated by Tasha Tudor.)

7. "The Polar Express" by Chris Van Allsburg (children's book).

8. "The Little Match Girl" by Hans Christian Andersen (fairy tale/children's book). I found this book illustrated by the wonderful Rachel Isadora in a thrift shop this fall and was thrilled to no end!

9 . "A Cup of Christmas Tea" by Tom Hegg (illustrated poem).

10. "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" by Barbara Robinson (novella).

Some of the lists I found included "Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus" by Frank P. Church, but it is not a book. Rather, it was a newspaper essay/editorial. Therefore, I excluded it from my list, but it is a "must read" every Christmas. Here is a link: http://www.infostarbase.com/tnr/xmas/virginia.html

There were several books on various lists that didn't make MY list:

"How the Grinch Stole Christmas" by Dr. Seuss (I have nothing against this book, it just didn't make my list, that's all).

The Nutcracker" by E.T.A. Hoffman/Maurice Sendak (nutcrackers and Maurice Sendak freak me out).

"Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott (not exclusively a Christmas book, and too treacly for me).
"The Christmas Box" by Richard Paul Evans (ditto on the treacle).

There are several books on my list that may not be as familiar to you as the story of Tiny Tim and Scrooge, or "A Visit From St. Nicholas". But I hope I can convince you to check out these less well-known tales:

"The Best Christmas Pageant Ever": As one Amazon.com review puts it, this book focuses on the poorly-behaved children of the Herdman family, who discover the true meaning of Christmas through participation in a church play about the birth of Jesus.

The six Herdmans are "absolutely and without question the worst kids in the entire history of the world. They are guilty of every unmentionable childhood crime and have thought of more than a few original ones. When they take over the church Christmas pageant (although none of them has ever attended church, much less heard the Christmas story before), the first Christmas becomes new and real in some pretty surprising ways."

If you ever have a chance to see this story produced as a play, go! It is a not-to-be-forgotten experience!


Another of my beloved Christmas books, "A Cup of Christmas Tea" by Tom Hegg, is, I suspect, mostly an upper Midwestern U.S. favorite.

Hegg, from Minnesota, wrote "A Cup of Christmas Tea" in 1981, when his pastor asked him to write something for his church's 125th anniversary. Drawing on childhood memories, he composed "a straightforward, sentimental poem that brought tears to his audience's eyes."

With wonderful illustrations by Warren Hanson, Hegg tells the story of a young man's reluctant, obligatory Christmas visit to his great aunt's house: "But boy! I didn't want to go. Oh, what a bitter pill/To see an old relation and how far she'd gone downhill."

But once he's passed the trendy Minneapolis suburbs and gotten to the older section of town and arrived at his aunt's house:

"We went inside and then
before I knew how to react
Before my eyes and ears and nose
was Christmas past, alive, intact!

The scent of candied oranges, of cinnamon and pine,
The antique wooden soldiers in their military line,
The porcelain Nativity I'd always loved so much,
The Dresden and the crystal I'd been told I mustn't touch.

My spirit fairly bolted like a child out of class
And danced among the ornaments of calico and glass.
Like magic I was six again, deep in a Christmas spell.
Steeped in the million memories
That the boy inside knew well. "

After all that, if I still can't convince you to buy the book, here is the link to the poem: http://www.atthewell.com/christmas/tea/

And last but not least,"(The Story of) Holly and Ivy". It is set in England, and tells the tale of a doll who needs a girl to love her, an orphan girl who wishes with all her heart for a grandmother and a toy shop doll, and a family who needs a child to love. Need I say more?

By the way, while I was searching the Internet for this book, I found a book I had been looking for for decades. I learned that Rumer Godden also wrote "Miss Happiness and Miss Flower", the story of two Japanese dolls who come to live with two lonely English girls. I originally read this book as a novella in a magazine when I was about 10. I have tried to find it ever since.

I can't tell you how much I, a doll-crazy girl, loved the story of these dolls and the two little girls who cared for them. I have never forgotten how the girls cut up little snips of cotton thread for rice for the dolls' bowls.



Also, on one list I discovered a book that I feel will be included in my future annual lists: "Christmas at Fairacre" by Miss Read. It's about a family that moves to a small English town just before Christmas. After reading the reviews on Amazon and other sites, I realize I have been missing out on a treasure in Miss Read. I ordered a used copy that contains several other Miss Read Christmas stories.

Oh, by the way, when I was writing about "A Cup of Christmas Tea" I didn't mention that after the book came out, an entire line of "Christmas Tea" china was designed. Over the years I have acquired the teapot, two cups and saucers, and a few accessories which I proudly display on my coffee table at Christmas.

Hmm, I think it's time to take a break. pull out a Christmas book and have "A Cup of Christmas Tea".

THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS

"NOW DASH AWAY, DASH AWAY,

DASH AWAY ALL!"

I am sadly lacking in the Christmas Spirit this year. Aches and pains, financial difficulties, worries about the future, cold and snowy weather and a general malaise have all combined to make me dread the approaching holidays.

Therefore, I am trying to write posts that inspire me, as the previous post did, or take me back to my happy childhood, as this one does:

Along about the first week of December, the little one-room school I attended in Larson, ND, became a totally different place. A small crew of dads or the teacher's friends would come in to move all the desks to the right side of the room, and then they would build the stage on the left side.

When they were finished they would help the teacher hang the "theatre" curtain. It was a vintage, damask-type print with flowers on a plum-colored background, probably made from drapery fabric. It stretched from one end of the room to the other. On either side of the stage, the teacher hung plain white bed sheets to hide the activity in the wings.

I remember that the carpenters always used fresh lumber for the foot-high stage, and the clean scent of fresh wood would cling in the air for weeks, mingled with the fresh scent of pine. Yes, before they left, they would put up a real tree with lights. (You'll never see that in a school building these days!)

Once the stage was finished and the tree lit, the room was completely transformed. It was, in a word, magic.

All through the weeks leading up to the program, Mrs. Marston would set aside time for practice. Although I don't remember most of the programs' contents, I do know that we sang sacred and secular songs both. Thank goodness I grew up before Christmas carols were banned from school Christmas programs. The teacher would bang away at the old upright piano while we lustily sang, "Away in a manger, no crib for his bed, the little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head..." (For years I thought the last line was "and stay by my cradle 'til morning is night.")

When I was 11 and in sixth grade, the final year at the one-room school, I was given the honor of reciting the entire poem, "The Night Before Christmas" ("A Visit From St. Nicholas") by Clement Clarke Moore.

I would sail along with no trouble all the way through "Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! on Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

But I always stumbled when I got to:


"As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky..."

To me, it was a tongue-tangler, and besides, dry fall leaves had nothing to do with Christmas! But I recovered and went on:

"So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With a sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too."

"AND HE LOOKED LIKE A PEDDLER

JUST OPENING HIS PACK"

That final year, I had the most splendid Christmas dress to date. It was a lovely rose color and with it I wore nylons for the first time. This was in the days before pantyhose. My nylons were held up by elastic bands which squeezed my legs but made me feel proud at how grown up I was.

I also had beautiful "velvet" slip-ons. I was so proud of them that I kept sliding my foot out from behind the curtain as we waited in the wings. That came to an end when an audience member stomped on my foot. Unknown to me, I had a dusty shoe print on my beautiful velvet slipper all through the evening!

The night of the program the school was always filled with friends and family members waiting to applaud us no matter how good or bad we were. Fortunately, we usually made it through the program with only a few faux pas. After the program, Santa Claus would bring us little brown bags of candy which always contained the same things: Chocolate drops, ribbon candy and other hard Christmas candy, peanuts and a popcorn ball.

This night marked the start of Christmas vacation. We would return to school in January to find the stage dismantled and the desks in their usual position. The magic was gone for another year, and it was hard to get back to business as usual.

"THE STUMP OF A PIPE HE

HELD TIGHT IN HIS TEETH."

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If you enjoyed these vintage Christmas postcards, and wish to read the beloved poem in its entirety, visit the link below. This cool site uses the three images I've shown plus 17 others to illustrate the poem. Each card perfectly matches the lines it is matched up with!

http://search.live.com/images/results.aspx?q=visions+of+sugar+plums&go=&form=QBIR#focal=1ed56deb153d158a01c7c8325c215b84&furl=http%3A%2F%2Fusers.frii.com%2Fparrot%2Fxmas%2Ftwas%2Ftwas2.jpg

I AM THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

I am the Christmas Spirit

That comes with the start of December

A winter solstice spell, perhaps,

When people forget to remember --

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The drab realities of fact,

The cherished hurt of ancient wrongs,

The lonely comfort of being deaf

To human sighs and angel's songs.

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Suddenly, they lose their minds

To heart's demands and beauty's grace;

And deeds extravagant with love

Give glory to the commonplace.

--Antony F. Perrino

A PRAIRIE THANKSGIVING

The Autumn Sketchbook
of Bess Stanhope

November 26, 1925

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I awoke this morning to the heavenly smell of roasting turkey. It's Thanksgiving Day! Inga let me sleep in this morning – what a dear. We are having Thanksgiving Dinner about 2:00 p.m. and the huge bird needs to cook for hours. Little Tommy Swenson will be happy to eventually discover that the biggest, meanest gobbler in the flock won’t be chasing after him anymore. Let’s hope he doesn’t make the connection between Big Tom and our delicious meal today.

At this moment, all is calm in the household. We are caught up with the dinner preparations, the children are playing quietly and Lars is doing chores. I am catching up with my journal at the kitchen table.

We won’t be traveling "Over the River and Through the Woods to Grandmother's House", because all four grandparents - the Swensons and the Nygaards - are coming our way! But I did have my pupils learn that fine old Thanksgiving poem this week. It was written by Lydia Maria Child in 1844.

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"Over the river, and through the wood,

To Grandmother's house we go;

The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh

through the white and drifted snow.

Over the river, and through the wood -

Oh, how the wind does blow!

It stings the toes and bites the nose

As over the ground we go.

Over the river, and through the wood,

To have a first-rate play.

Hear the bells ring, "Ting-a-ling-ding",

Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the river, and through the wood

Trot fast, my dapple-gray!

Spring over the ground like a hunting-hound,

For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river, and through the wood -

And straight through the barnyard gate,

We seem to go extremely slow,

It is so hard to wait!

Over the river, and through the wood -

Now Grandmother's cap I spy!

Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done?

Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!”

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We had a Thanksgiving pageant yesterday at the school. I have such fond memories of the Thanksgiving pageant held annually at my St. Paul elementary school when I was a little girl. I still have a photo too. It is kind of faded but you can see our Thanksgiving costumes. Can you tell which one is me?



When I showed my pupils the photo, they were eager to hold a Thanksgiving Pageant too. Fortunately for them - and their parents - simple Indian headdresses, Pilgrim hats and collars are easy to make with cardboard and stiff paper.

Last month, President Coolidge issued his 1925 Thanksgiving proclamation. I have copied out a portion of it:

“We have been brought with safety and honor through another year, and, through the generosity of nature, He has blessed us with resources whose potentiality in wealth is almost incalculable; we are at peace at home and abroad; the public health is good; we have been undisturbed by pestilences or great catastrophes; our harvests and our industries have been rich in productivity; our commerce spreads over the whole world, and Labor has been well rewarded for its remunerative service.”

How blessed and fortunate were are to live in prosperous times!



This is our Thanksgiving menu for today:

Roast Turkey

Mashed Potatoes with Giblet Gravy

Sage Dressing (Stuffing)

Scalloped Corn

Candied Yams

Fresh Dinner Rolls

Cranberries

Pumpkin Pie with Whipped Cream

Caramel Nut Cake

Lefse

(I was introduced to lefse last year when I moved in with the Swensons. It is a delicious soft Norwegian flatbread made from mashed potatoes, cream and flour, and cooked on a griddle. I like mine spread with butter and sprinkled with sugar and rolled up.)

In addition to helping prepare all of the above, my contribution is the Caramel Nut Cake which I found in the recipe book above.

Here at the Swensons, we will SING grace before our meal. I learned this from the family, who are Lutheran:

“Be present at our table, Lord
Be here and everywhere adored
These mercies bless and grant that we
May feast in paradise with thee.”

I will give thanks for the love of my adopted family, Inga and Lars Swenson and their four lovely children, and for my wonderful parents who are still on their auto tour throughout the American Southwest. I am thankful to have found my calling as a teacher and for my students and their families. I am thankful for the beauty of this countryside and the new friends I have made here.

It is a wonderfully mild day so I am sure that after the dishes are done we will take a walk out on the prairie to work off our dinner. This evening we will just snack on leftover turkey sandwiches. I will add a dab of cranberry sauce to my plate and I will be set. Later, as we all gather around the radio, I will work on my scrapbook, adding some new postcards to my Thanksgiving postcard collection, especially ones from my favorite postcard artists.

John Winsch's Thanksgiving postcards often featured Indians

Adorable children were the hallmark of the Whitney Company

Frances Brundage created some of the most

beautiful Thanksgiving postcards ever

Ellen Clapsaddle was another postcard

artist who often drew cute children.

Finally, I will retire to my room to read this new book my mother sent me. Of course, we who claim St. Paul, Minnesota, as our hometown, and especially those of us from Summit Avenue, are so proud of Scott. I have followed his career avidly and I have read his other books. I think he and Zelda are the berries! I can't wait to start "The Great Gatsby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOTE FROM THE FUTURE, THANKSGIVING 2008: How fortunate indeed for Bess and her adopted family, students, neighbors and friends to be living in prosperity. Little did they know that in four scant years the stock market would crash and they would be plunged into the Great Depression, and the Dust Bowl would spread all the way from Texas to North Dakota. I think maybe the very first thanks we should give on this Thanksgiving Day is: “Thanks be that we can’t foretell the future.”

At my home it will be Dan, myself, my sister and her two kids. Our Thanksgiving Dinner is fundamentally the same as Bess’, except for Green Bean Casserole with French’s Onions, which was not invented until the 1950s. (Oh, and no caramel nut cake for us.)

It may have been a lovely mild Thanksgiving Day for Bess in 1925, but here in 2008, winter descended a few weeks ago. It is definitely no longer fall here, and for that reason I think this will be the final virtual chapter in Bess Stanhope’s “Autumn Sketch Book.” It was a blast to write. Thanks for all your kind comments.

LEST WE FORGET

Americans call this holiday Veterans' Day. I think of it as Armistice Day.

I began writing this post at 10:57 a.m. today - three minutes before the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. This is the moment in 1918 when the Armistice was signed, signaling the end of World War I.

Of course, it wasn't called that back then. It was known as the Great War, the largest war the world had ever seen. It was thought of as the war to end all wars. Sadly, as we well know, it wasn't.

Today, I honor my three great uncles who died during or because of the Great War. Though in desperate circumstances, Archie, Jack and William were positive they would beat the savage Huns. Jack and William never even lived long enough to learn that in 1917, isolationist America finally came to the Allies' aid and joined the fray. None of them knew that defeated, humbled Germany would bitterly and vindictively rise again, just a couple of decades later, and start a firestorm that would engulf the entire globe.

Throughout the centuries, people have saluted their soldiers, and today I salute ours, living and dead, including the newest - the American, British and other allied soldiers of the Iraq War, heroes every one.

But I carry a special place in my heart for these three brothers from Golspie, a small town in Scotland.




Archie Munro did not let immigration to Canada, having a wife and children, or being too old stop him from enlisting in the Canadian Army. He lied about his age, joined up, and was among the first Canadian soldiers to be shipped to Europe. He was gassed at Ypres, France, and taken prisoner. So close to death that he was taken for dead, he was brought outside and thrown on a heap of corpses awaiting burial detail. Fortunately, he was saved at the last moment. Archie later returned to Canada and lectured about his experiences as a POW. However, he died just a few years after the war ended as a result of being gassed.



William and Jack joined Scottish regiments - the King's Own Scottish Borderers and the Seaforth Highlanders, units of the British Army. William was the first to die. A famous footballer, a journalist, and reportedly a fine young man, he was well-respected in the northeastern-most tip of Scotland. Attaining the rank of sergeant, he was much loved by his men. After he enlisted and was posted to France, he filed reports from the front to his former newspaper. That same newspaper, when reporting his death, said those stories were some of the best writing it had ever published. All of Golspie mourned when William died.



Both Archie and William were true heroes. Jack (John Alexander) was that, and something else as well: a publicly-recognized, much-lauded and highly-decorated hero. Just a few months after William's death, Golspie again mourned the loss of a Munro boy, along with Hughina, their widowed mother.

Jack was a true soldier's soldier and became the youngest Regimental Sergeant Major in the British Army at the time. He was wounded many times, his wounds usually occurring while he was rescuing another soldier. After his last hospital release, he became a British Army instructor and could have remained in the rear until war's end. However, he felt he could not abandon his men. He returned to the French front and was later killed instantly by a shell. His last act in life was to yet again rescue a fallen comrade. Jack was awarded Britain's top medals posthumously.

Who among us actually has the courage to die for our country? I surely don't. I salute my and your family members and friends who did, and still do, every day.

PS: The image at the top of the page is a montage that includes photos of Jack and William, the Golspie WW I Memorial and Golspie itself, along with part of a famous poem. It was created by an e-card company with the guidance of my second cousin Shirley Sutherland, who lives in Golspie. Shirley, our family historian, went to France not long ago to visit and document William's and Jack's gravesites. Though I could not accompany her, I took the journey with her in spirit.

"They shall not grow old
As we that are left grow old

Age shall not weary them
Nor the years condemn

At the going down of the sun
and in the morning

We will remember them."

(Thanks to Carole at Pea's Corner for publishing this poem today. I didn't know all the lines.)

AFTER THE STORM

The storm is over, the sun is out, and look, the dancing snow couple is gone (see photo, previous post).

The same lady who took a photo of her farm yard the other day during the blizzard has posted a new photo (to KFYR TV Sky Spy pictures). And as you can see, there is nothing there where the snow people were. I think they have gone away until another blizzard comes. And I think blizzards make them delirious with joy.

Seeing the snow people reminded me of the wonderful video I got for Kristen when she was little, Raymond Briggs' "The Snowman." If you've never seen it, you should rent it or buy it (it's on DVD now!) It is fantastic. It has no dialogue whatsoever, but features incredibly beautiful music. It's the story of a snowman who comes alive, and then magically flies the little English boy who created him to a merry, musical gathering of snow men and women. I've always thought of it as a Christmas video, but I think from now on it will be my blizzard video.

For those of you who expressed concern about my husband being stuck on Thursday night, don't worry, he was given a push right away. Almost everyone is a Good Samaritan in North Dakota, and you can always count on them in a storm. In fact, there are teenage boys with their four-wheel drives who think it's fun to go out in a blizzard to help people with a push or shoveling out. There are folks who fire up their snowmobiles to deliver medicine and get people to the hospital. The people who were stranded at the Bismarck Greyhound bus depot on Thursday (some had NEVER seen snow before) were given food and beds by the Red Cross. That's one reason why Dan and I continue to live in North Dakota, even during a nasty winter.

I haven't been outdoors since late Thursday afternoon and I am starting to get cabin fever, trapped here alone with the dogs. My sis and decided not to go to lunch today. She lives in a small town five miles outside of Bismarck, and the roads out in the country are still bad. I am at loose ends. I did start a good book last night - "Sepulchre" by Kate Mosse. It drew me in right away, as I thought it would because I loved her previous book, "Labyrinth."

But today, I didn't feel like reading. Instead, I once again tried to post a Rich Text post to my blog and once again, I failed. There are several things about Blogger that really bug me, including having a very limited choice of fonts, not being able to wrap text around a photo, and not being able to control spacing between paragraphs.

For about the third time in a week, I composed a post with wrap-around text, a nice font that looks like handwriting, bullets, framed pictures, a banner and more. All for naught.

Tell me, people who use Blogger, how do you do counteract this? I specifically downloaded a free trial of Microsoft Word 2007 because when I took the class I found out that you can supposedly write a Rich Text post and send it right to your blog with format intact. I wrote a post and found that I could indeed send it - but all the lovely images and formatting had disappeared.

Then, I wrote to Blogger Help and was advised to use Microsoft Windows Live Writer instead. I found myself to be frustrated there as well. (Let it be known right now, that I am an older person who merged onto the information highway via a tricycle.)

So now, I'm asking all you Bloggers with a capital "B" for help (in non-techy language, please!)

A WEEK IN THE LIFE - NORTH DAKOTA STYLE

Photo by Charlotte Kahrs at Scranton, ND

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Bismarck, ND

Sunday, Nov. 2: A beautiful 70 degree, Indian summer day, shirt sleeve weather.

Monday: Lovely day, temp in the 60s. There's talk of a big storm coming in from the west.

Tuesday: Election day and another lovely day in the 60s. They're predicting a nasty snowstorm later on this week.

Wednesday: The SW portion of the state is getting snow but then again they always get the nasty weather. They've already had snow this fall. But in Bismarck, it was 50 degrees when I went to work this morning! There was a bit of light rain but nothing major. However, blizzard warnings are posted!

Thursday morning: Oh my god, what a night we had last night. I woke to sleet/ice hitting the north-facing windows about 3:00 a.m. and then came the lightning and thunder. Followed immediately by scared dogs tearing into our bedroom and refusing to leave. After a major tussle we finally get them out.

The radio reports that the blizzard is on its way and is playing havoc in other towns, with some having a foot of snow already. They're also saying that our streets are slippery due to all that sleet/ice last night. However, as I drive to work the streets are just wet, and there's a bit of snow at the edges of the streets and on the lawns. But, it is really cold and the wind is howling like a banshee.

Driving by the municipal golf course, I see two medium size dogs, one brown and one white, trotting happily in tandem down the sidewalk, a popular path for joggers, walkers and dog walkers. There were no owners in sight. I had to chuckle at the dogs' merry aspects (We're free! We're free!) and wondered at what great adventure they thought they were embarking upon. (I also hope they were re-captured and brought home before the storm.)

Noon: No action yet, but I'm glad I brought my lunch anyway. Brrr.

2:00 p.m. Yish, we can't see beyond the parking lot. The snow is blowing sideways.

3:00 p.m. One of my co-workers couldn't make it up the hill on the street that runs in front of our building. People are getting antsy and nervous.

4:00 p.m. The P.A. system announces that Bismarck State College is closing. Fortunately, they've just sanded the many hills that make up the BSC campus so all the stuck people are able to get moving again. I creep home, making it back in 30 minutes as opposed to the usual 7 minute drive.

8:00 p.m. Dan gets stuck on his way home from work.

10:00 p.m. No travel is advised in the western 2/3 of the state and roads in the SW are closed. The local news is all agog that a national weather channel has sent a representative out here for the first big blizzard of the winter of 2008-2009.

Friday, 6:45 a.m. The radio announces a bunch of school closings, including BSC. But wait, they're saying BSC classes. What about the offices? Shall I get up or not? I'll snuggle down and wait a few minutes more. Oh, here's an amendment - BSC classes are canceled and its offices are closed. I have an unexpected day off.

8:00 a.m. I'm at loose ends. I guess I'll start by writing a post. Penny is enjoying this weather. Instead of being the big red dog, today she is the big white dog. She could lie down in a snow drift and not mind it a bit. Gracie...not so much. The neighbor kids are already outside playing in the snow. The neighbor is blowing out all our driveways and sidewalks. I'm going to have a cup of hot chocolate and chill out (I mean, snuggle up.)

Photo by Amanda at Bowman, ND

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Photo by Paulette Haar at Hettinger, ND

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Photo by Harvey Oase at Reeder, ND

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P.S. Is it just me, or do you see those two ghostly snow people dancing at the right side of the photo at the very top of this post?