Reblogged from Sally Cronin’s Smorgasbord:
Delighted to welcome Mike Biles, author of A Bit About Britain’s History as a guest writer until the end of the year. And up to Christmas, Mike will be sharing the background some of the Christmas traditions we enjoy in Britain in his A – Z.
BTW: I can recommend the book as a great gift to any history buffs in the family both in the UK and abroad…and you here is my Review
In Part Two of the Christmas A – Z Mike shared the traditions behind Christmas Dinner to Figgy Pudding.
The A-Z of Christmas in Britain – Part Three – Holly and Ivy to Sprouts
Holly and ivy
Here again we are reminded of the ancient rites we celebrate each Christmas. Holly was used by the Romans to decorate their homes during Saturnalia, and they would send sprigs to friends to wish them health and well-being. Ivy has been regarded as a symbol of everlasting life for centuries and was sacred to Bacchus, the Roman god of wine, and Osiris, the Egyptian judge of the dead. Some associate holly with male and ivy with female; some with Jesus and Mary. Christians have also associated holly with the crown of thorns that Christ wore on the cross, with the bright red berries representing drops of blood.
Some believe that ivy should not be used inside the house for decoration – and I have certainly never seen it, though Christmas would not be the same without some holly about the place (not before Christmas Eve, though). The carol, ‘the Holly and the Ivy’, is an old folk hymn – and I have to say that it always sounds very ancient, almost pagan, to me; something about the rising of the sun and the running of the deer…
Continue reading at Smorgasbord
Okay, Santa,
I love writing, it`s my passion. My genres include fantasy, horror, urban fantasy, and a mixture of all those. I love telling stories;period. I am married to my wonderful wife, Becca who is my rock. Our daughter Tara and our dog, german shepherd collie cross, are also my passions. To experience a moment of pure love is to experience the world.
She had reached the end of her patience. She won’t take another day of this miserable existence, she told herself. Here her life lay barren and cold. Nothing to show for all the years of compromise and bending her will to that of others. Alone still and waiting for some sort of recognition of her sacrifices!
As the plane was coming in for a landing, Jack snapped out of his reverie. He looked across at Joanne, who was obviously thinking as well. The boys were talking quietly, but not loud enough to hear what they were saying.
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