I resolve to ...

In today's connected world, a flood of well wishes and celebratory images reaches our social media inboxes starting late in the evening on the 30th of December, when those ahead of our EST strike up the band and set off fireworks to signal the beginning of another new year mere hours before us. Amidst the songs, salutations, libations, and revelry, the curious custom of resolutions comes forefront of the conversation as millions reflect on the 12 months past, and publicly (but more likely privately) avow to make desired changes. For some, leaving 2022 behind will bring welcomed relief, "turning over a new leaf" as the old adage goes, but for others there will be the looming spectre of the unknown, not the least of which is the pressure of an impending recession. Either way, the resolutions brought to bear are a personal choice.

But where did this tradition come from?

According the History.com, the ancient Babylonians (from Bablyonia in ancient Mesopotamia, now know as Iraq) are reputed to be the first to make New Year’s resolutions approximately 4,000 years ago. As an agrarian (agriculturally based) society the year began in mid-March when the crops were planted. Celebrating Akitu, a massive 12-day religious festival, the Babylonians crowned a new king or reaffirmed their loyalty to the reigning king. Akitu also featured promises to their gods to pay their debts and return objects they had borrowed, considered by scholars as the forerunners of our present-day resolutions, in hopes that their gods would bestow favour on them for the coming year if they kept their word. Breaking their promise resulted in potentially falling out of the gods’ favour, misfortune the cost.

Okay ... so why the change to January 1st?

We can thank ancient Rome for the move away from an agrarian focus, when the reform-focused emperor Julius Caesar established January 1st as the beginning of the new year, circa 46 B.C., establishing what we now call the Julian calendar. Named for Janus, the two-faced god whose spirit inhabited doorways and arches, January had special significance for the Romans, believing the god looked simultaneously backwards into the previous year and ahead into the coming year. Romans offered sacrifices to the deity and made promises of good conduct for the coming year. 

Interesting factoid: Caesar's Julian calendar incorrectly calculated the solar year, making an error of 11 minutes, prompting Pope Gregory XIII to establish his own Gregorian calendar to ensure that the calendar stayed in sync with the lunar and solar equinoxes for centuries to come. According to Almanac.com, if you think about the seasons, the timing of early January works for most of Europe and North America since the active harvest has passed and the holiday celebrations have ended. At present, there are only 4 countries that do not officially follow the Gregorian calendar; Afghanistan and Iran (which use the Solar Hijri calendar), Ethiopia (the Ethiopian calendar), and Nepal (Vikram Samvat and Nepal Sambat)

Got it ... Most set resolutions on January 1st. How many keep them?

Thanks to wikipedia.com , a 2014 report claimed 35% of participants who failed their New Year's Resolutions admitted they had unrealistic goals, 33% did not keep track of their progress, and 23% forgot about them. About 1 in 10 respondents claimed they made too many resolutions. A 2007 study by Richard Wiseman from the University of Bristol involving 3,000 people showed that 88% of New Year resolutions fail, despite 52% being confident of success at the beginning. Wiseman reported that men achieved their goal 22% more often when they engaged in goal setting, their resolutions made in terms of small, measurable goals like "lose a pound a week" rather than "lose weight". 

Hmm ... not at all sure why he needed to discern between the sexes?

Furthermore, insideoutmastery.com reports that 38.5% of adults set New Year’s resolutions every year, with 59% of them being young adults (18-34) making it the largest demographic that sets these goals.

Of the top 3 resolutions, all health-related, the most popular at 48% was to exercise more, with eating properly and losing weight rounding out the podium. Unfortunately, 23% quit in the first week, and only 36% make it past the first month, with a lowly 9% successfully keep their New Year’s resolutions.

All of which begs the question, will you be making any New Year's resolutions loop around the sun? 

Mine will be easy peasy since they continue what I've already made into habit:

(a) Stay in shape ... Translation: Ride my bike a lot!

(b) Live a loving, active life ... Translation: Enjoy loads of beach walks with my bestie!

(c) Always look on the bright side of life ... Translation: Keep up the retirement thing!

From Joyce and I, a very Happy New Year to all!

From mine to yours!

I'd like to extend my sincerest well wishes to all of our family and friends, offering prayers that 2023 proves to be a significant improvement over 2022. Social Media being what it is, we are gifted glimpses into the lives of those who hold value to us, but the content of those sneak peeks is 100% controlled by the poster. Like everyone, there's more to our lives than the stuff deemed worthy of sharing, and whatever you're dealing with in your life, it is our wish that you know how much we appreciate you in our lives, and that we are honoured that you have extended the olive branch.

Joyce and I talk all the time of the 100's of friends over our lives that bring happiness and fulfillment through continued connection, but those that we would label as significant, the kind that are first on the help-needed list when life deals you a shot to the solar plexus, wouldn't fill up a post-it note. Please don't read into that! And, no, we won't be sharing any secrets. Those on speed dial very probably already know. 

We LOVE the life we've created, and we have no regrets with the end product of our life's efforts. Regardless of their makeup, ALL of our friendships have made a difference, and we appreciate each and every last one!

Family is pretty darned important to Joyce and I, even more so on "high" holidays like Christmas. When it comes to our immediate family, choosing to "pitch our tent" in 3 different communities means we don't often share time as an entire unit other than those special times in a year. We offer prayers of gratitude to the Lord when they happen. While I wouldn't label us as religious, I would say that God plays a role in our lives, influencing the way we live a fulsome life aligning well with the universal truths outlined in the sacred texts of the all world's religions. There are some families that establish connections of great depth and intensity, and some far less so, with Joyce and I feeling we fall into the bulging midline of that continuum. 

Hey, we like the way we do things ... that's why we do them ... so there'll be zero regrets on our part.

As we've aged, my extended family has begun the inevitable downsizing exercises, starting with my mom's transition from our childhood home to a more manageable condo. Joyce and I followed suit not far after, as regular readers already know, but two of my brothers still hold tightly onto the "knot at the end of the rope" with detached houses. Of my three brothers, my brother Dave's family home is the most accommodating in size, and as such, he opened his front door to those of us that could make it for some Christmas LUV'n, a tradition sorely missing after mom sold and during the pandemic years. 

For reasons that are obvious, there was an empty spot on the couch. 

My brother Rob has made remarkable improvements over the past 4 weeks since returning home from Sunnybrook, but he and Jen sent their regrets when the invitation was issued. Joyce and I stop by Rob's place once a week to stay in touch because it hits home when your family is forced to confront "The Big C", and we're ecstatic that his troubles look like they're in the rear view mirror.

It felt wonderfully strange to share air sans mask with those I hold dear to my heart, and there was so much catching up to do. Granted, not everyone in our extended family was able to come, some bogged down at work or not able to make the long trip back to Barrie, but for all that could, smiles, sparkles, laughs, and genuine affection completely filled the space. While we each contributed to the spread, the bulk of the treats were thanks to the generosity of Dave's house with his Spanish exchange student adding the piece de resistance, sharing her ethnic culinary abilities with Ensaladilla Rusa two ways and smoked salmon canapés. YUM! Thanks so much Dave and Cheryl!

Reacquainting ourselves with each other, it occurred to both Joyce and I how blessed we are with such a glorious assortment of personalities and talents, astutely proud of the great young people our children, nieces, and nephews have become now that everyone is adulting full time!

The wondrous pre-Christmas week continued when we pointed the RAV northeastward for the trip up to Haliburton to celebrate early with my Mother-in-law Pearl and Joyce's brother's family (Gary, his wife Ruth, and their son Jamie). Although previous Foster family get-togethers had included Gary+Ruth's daughter Krista, husband Jeff, and children Levi and Lexi, those chairs were vacant this time around thanks to Jeff's transfer to Germany for an extended service in the Canadian Armed Forces. Gary's family lives pretty much on the opposite side of Ontario from us (Cobden/Pembroke area), so making the long trip from the far east amounts to a special event. Pearl, bless her, denied her 90+ years, whipping up a delicious spread that delighted of our grumbling tummies, and we capped off the visit by sharing our gifts to each other. Jamie stole the show thanks to his wonderfully quirky sense of humour, spurring out-loud Guffaws on a number of occasions. Due to the large amount of KM's between us, we don't share time with Gary, Ruth and family as often as we should, so when we are able, the time races, hours seeming like mere moments. Our travel home was filled with banter about the experience, wide smiles on our faces.

For our own children, Joyce and I have always implored them to balance time with both sides of their families on a alternating basis so we might continue to embrace the Christmas morning traditions we established over the years like fresh cinnamon rolls, Christmas morning Wife-Saver, and dad's rhyming hide-a-present game. Keaton, partner Jessica, and fur-baby Zuke arrived on Christmas Eve day, despite the latest version of Snowmageddon. After a quick catch-up, we jumped into the RAV to go see my mom for a combo Christmas visit / introduction since she's never met Jessica, much to the dismay of Zuke who got left behind. We had a lovely chat, took the obligatory pic, and got a chance to visit with my brother Dave's family for a bit since they had come to spend the evening with mom. White-knuckling it back to the beach through a ridiculous set of streamers was the only downer of the day, and we give thanks to the white pickup that shepherded us home in white-out conditions!

Christmas Eve was truly an event! 

Keaton and Jess treated us to a Raclette. Yeah, we'd never heard of it before then either, but  IT ... WAS ... DELICIOUS! If you're like us with no clue, think griddle on top with cheese melting stations below, creating a host of ooey-gooey tastebud tantalizers that featured steak, sausages, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, and veggies smothered in melted Emmental, Gruyere, or Gouda. An over-eaters Nirvana! The evening's crescendo was sharing the Jim Carrey version of "The Grinch"!

Maddison, hubby Chris, and fur-baby Remington made the trip to the Beach on Christmas afternoon after spending Christmas Eve and morning in the "Shwaa" with his side of the family. The reacquaintance,  gift opening, and laughter aside, we shared an amazing family day feasting on the traditional fare of turkey with all the fixin's. At one point, I pushed my chair back, and basked in the gloriousness of having my family together in our intimate little condo ... all was right, from my perspective. Like the Grinch who finally learns the true meaning of Christmas, my heart swells with pride and gratitude when blessed with times like these.

Suffering the corny old adage, "God bless us, everyone!"

A game of thrones!

Home ownership is NOT for wimps! And when it comes to plumbing, I'm all thumbs, even more so when it comes to the "Royal Throne"!

Some may recall from stories passed that we owned the same domicile for 31 years prior to selling it in June 2020. During that time, this all-thumbs, klutzy, experience-lacking "Bungalo Bob" stumbled through a host of DIY jobs whose culminations didn't match the pre-construction image of my mind. What I ultimately learned is that I missed the proverbial boat when it came to spruce-up skills. The jobs I fumbled my way through were drywalling, laminate flooring, framing+drywalling the basement, shelving, and painting, but things like plumbing or electrical were summarily off limits, partially because mistakes would either be costly or deadly, not necessarily in order of importance.

When we moved to our condo, that added a layer of liability since mistakes would not only affect what we owned, but had the potential to affect others. For smaller jobs, I begged favours from competent friends, the usual payment came in glass and gurgled, but when we realized a professional was paramount, my Scottish roots cringed at paying the anticipated cost. My anxiety was confirmed when we contracted a young lad that was "local" ... he's based in Orr Lake but comes to "The Beach" regularly ... for advice about our aged toilets since they had developed some quirks that had become "a burr under the saddle." He was the former student of my friend John Minty, and his recommendation was to switch both toilets out before major issues developed.

The cost of that first visit could be broken down into dollars per word! HaHaHa!

After our guy left, we dutifully discussed whether his advice was feasible, eventually agreed it should be done, and our decision prompted a quest for thrones from a Big Box store because, as it turns out, plumbers no longer supply the thrones. We chose Home Depot for our quest, surveyed the bewildering arrangement of choices ranging from less than $175 up to over $500, eventually narrowing it down to 2 choices. We had been encouraged to look for an American Standard brand so we settled on one of two that were separated by about $150 in price. Thinking it prudent, we sought some input from a store employee before making the final decision, and we were swayed to consider a Home Depot brand that was of similar price to the lower range of our original two choices. 

We really should have simply listened to our guy.

Lured by the, "This is a better toilet for the same money" sales pitch, we chose the HD brand ... cue the dramatic, foreshadowing music! Since we had zero experience with replacing toilets, I was not put off by the weight of the box, assuming (in error, as it would turn out) they were all that heavy. While transporting them back to the Beach was a chore, getting them up to the condo was a whole different matter. I've heard it said that any job is easier with the right tools, and we DEFINITELY would have appreciated a dolly or some such, but my back held out, the task was accomplished, and the call put out for our plumber's return. Like Murphy's Law, the day that he was able to help, I was scheduled to supply that morning, so things had already started when I arrived home just after lunch, and I immediately felt the pang of sympathy thanks to the audible "Uuuugh's" and "Wheeeew's" emanating from the bathroom. Apparently, the model we bought was the Granpappy most-difficult install of all. 

Oooops, my bad! Nice to know I still got it ... NOT!

In the end, the job was completed, the end product looked awesome, and their function eliminated the annoyances of the old thrones. All that was left was the exchange of Shekels. We thought we got a good deal on the two, paying just shy of $250 each, and hoped that the install costs would come in less than the purchase cost, and I'm pleased (???) to inform that it did ... barely. That is not a complaint about our guy! He had to work awfully darned hard to make these two behemoths fit, and the 3.5 hours it took was a direct correlation to the model we chose, so for just a wee bit shy of $1K you too could enjoy the "GO" on thrones of comparable quality. 

As the saying goes, "All it takes is money!"

How sad is it that I just spent an entire blog post on toilets?

Refs 'R Us!

I'm pretty sure I mentioned it somewhere on here, but in case I didn't, I'd like to share that I have turned to "the Dark Side" of the whistle, joining the Barrie & District Association of Basketball Officials (BDABO, for short) when we moved back to Simcoe County this past summer. After rekindling my referee roots in Guelph last winter, I yearned to continue my journey when we moved to Wasaga Beach, and was flattered that BDABO accepted me with open arms. I was told by a number of friends, during a variety of conversations about the subject matter, that there was a void that required filling with some of the more senior members of BDABO scaling back or "retiring", but I truly had no idea that I could become so busy.

If I'm honest, this kind of busy is a good thing!

A really long time ago, I was a much, much younger version of myself, and I was an active member of BDABR, the acronym used back then. While I really enjoyed being on both sides of the whistle, I had not yet been bitten by the rugby bug and it's vortex-like effect on the minutes of the day. Eventually, between husbanding, parenting, teaching, basketball-ing, rugby-ing, GBSSA/OFSAA-ing, and refereeing, something had to give. It was right around then that I was experiencing some internal strife coaching as a referee because I would fall prey to focussing on what the officials were doing during the game, and not my players, even if it was only for brief periods of time. 

I can vividly recall rationalizing the decision, and felt it was a super simple choice ...

Refereeing had to go.

Fast forward to present day, I'm still working off the rust that gathered after 20+ years absence, striving to become a competent official, and continuing to embrace my "Go Hard or Go Home" mentality. As SCAA (Simcoe County Athletic Association) and CASC (Catholic Association of School Councils) transition from the girls' season to the guys', scanning my calendar from the past 3.5 months, forces me to confront the stark reality that I may have put the proverbial "cart before the horse". 

I've officiated just over 100 games refereed since the beginning of September!

If you consider that I drove myself to most of my assignments, that's 90+ times I have left poor Joyce stranded without a vehicle since we decided that retirement downsizing meant transitioning to one vehicle. As you might have guessed, she's let me know how many times in her loving and caring way, but while I throw myself on the mercy of her court, my sheepishly grinning reminder that it's helping to fund our up-coming winter in the sunny south was met with mixed emotions.

I make light of the situation, but please know that I readily admit to being a very lucky husband.

Being an active, card-carrying member of the silver-haired club, I have been asked to help with not only the high school scene, but the elementary schools and youth club games as well, meaning on any given week, at almost any time of the day, I could be in a wide variety of community gyms, adorned in zebra stripes, whistle in mouth, and a big smile beneath my referee's mask. Yep, you read that correctly. I'm of the opinion that we still need to pay heed to the pandemic, and with family that is battling health concerns PLUS mothers that are north of 80+, I wear a specialized mask that allows me to officiate at the same time. I truly enjoy being involved in youth sports again.

What people not invested in the education system may have overlooked is that this pandemic has disrupted our young people's lives fully and completely, in ways that are not always apparent. One of those centers around opportunities in athletics where it has created a noticeable dearth of skills and knowledge in the elementary basketball games I've officiated recently. Granted, the games I've done were at the beginning of playoffs level, meaning that all schools have access, and I would suspect that the competency would significantly increase when you get to the Simcoe County championships, but it doesn't change the fact that the level of play, overall, has dropped.

When talking about high school, the drop off of skill is less noticeable with the changes to the club system in this area. Back in the "Stone Ages", high school athletes would only compete in club games outside of the high school season, the prime goal of clubs like the Barrie Royals was to support high school programs. It would seem to me that things have swung 180 degrees, with high schools are the support system now, and athletes focusing on their chosen sport to train and compete all year long. While I can applaud the dedication and focus, I feel a pang of anxiety because I feel strongly that a base comprised of a wide variety of activities offering a more complete array of functional movements, leads to an overall healthier life, and statistically less injuries. I am completely biased, however, because my own experience was skewed significantly considering that I competed in 4-6 sports a year in high school, thanks mostly to the flexibility of my coaches who willingly accepted me missing a practice or two when I was balancing the whole thing. The chart at the right points to an alarming reality in today's world, proof that multi-sport athletes' bodies resist over-training injuries better if they compete in a variety of activities rather than a single sport. It's not my place to comment on other family's choices, but it's still a concern for me based on years of experience.

Getting back on the mental track, I am loving that I can remain involved with youth sports, albeit on the opposite side of the whistle. I've been blessed to experience success on the elite stage in a number of activities I coached, but my "Happy Place" will always be working with those grassroots athletes in high school gyms around the county. I receive loads of comments from parents about how much they appreciate me taking the time to explain blasts of the whistle to their children. The point I'm making is that despite the level, there's still A LOT of learning that takes place on the basketball court during a game, and I'm directly involved in that. UNLIKE voluntarily donating all those coaching hours for 35+ years, now I get a little kick-back for my role in the learning, and NO, coaching was not part of the job description for teaching so I wasn't getting paid to coach, but it's the premise of youth sports that gets me out the door in my retirement.

Hey, you can't have an inter-school competition if you don't have referees ... most of the time.

Truth be told, I'm really having a lot of fun being out there on the court. In a recent weekend passed, I was granted some matches at the 2022 McDonald's Invitational at Collingwood CI, gifting me the opportunity to re-aquaint with coaching buddies from all those years on the road, as well as getting a front row seat for ex-players who are now giving back to the sport. Shout out to Pete Kaija (Sarnia), Kyle Beers (Sudbury), Kate Walker (Bradford), Ross Clarke (Huntsville), Drew Taylor (Barrie), and Connor Laronde (Barrie). A tip 'o the hat to organizer and CCI coach Daryl Sproule for the hours it takes to set up and run the tournament.

Fun Fact ... at least for me! When I returned to Simcoe, BDABO classed me as a C-level official since I had only been actively refereeing for less than 12 months, if you consider I started back in November of 2021 when I joined the Guelph Board. While I respected their policy, I humbly requested the first possible opportunity to be evaluated, hoping to move up to a B-level. Well, that evaluation happened a few days ago during the Barrie Showdown tournament, and I'm proud to report that the feedback was both flattering and confirming, the executive granting me the honour of jumping up to the A-level in recognition and appreciation of the competency I brought to the task. 

My gratitude to them, and to my long time friend Dave Gross who evaluated me, is huge.

TWEET! 

That's a violation by the old fart for excessive celebration!

Christmas Curiosities 2.0

After writing the last post about Christmas traditions, It occurred to me that there were a few others that begged for investigation. I already have some feedback from friends after the first post, detailing the memorable traditions near and dear to their families, so this list is skewed towards what we do, but I encourage those of you that I've pique an interest in understanding the historical significance of the observances dear to your family to do a little searching of your own. There's boat loads of information out there and quick Internet search offers hundreds of possible sources.

The tradition of decorating Christmas trees can be faithfully traced to our collective Germany roots. The decoration of evergreen trees had long been a part of the winter solstice tradition, with the first trees Christmas-theme decorated and named after the Christian holiday reputed to have appeared in Strasbourg (part of Alsace) in the beginning of the 17th century, according to History.com. By the mid 17th century, Christmas trees began spreading out to other parts of Germany, even more so when Johann Wolfgang von Goethe visited Strasbourg and promptly included a Christmas tree is his 1771 novel, "The Suffering of Young Werther." The site goes on to say that for 1000's of years of recorded history, cultures from Egypt to Northern Europe have celebrated the winter solstice by decorating homes with green palm fronds and evergreen boughs to breathe life into the shortest, darkest day of the year. The first Christmas trees brought indoors are credited to 16th-century German Christians, with Martin Luther credited for placing the first burning candles in a Christmas tree to mimic the sparkling stars. It doesn't take a great Leap of Faith to see that the North American preference for a freshly cut evergreen had deep historical roots, but there has been much debate on which variety best serves the purpose. 

My dad was always a Balsam guy ... which one was your family's? 

Although it might seem like this tradition has long been a North American staple, Puritanical American preachers railed against “pagan” trees before the tradition caught on in NA homes in the late 1800's. My father is likely reeling, but I'm pretty sure our entire family has embraced artificial trees over fresh cut, but  to me it makes sense in these times, even though it is a source of income for some. Tightening the embrace just a wee might closer, I recently saw "Evergreen Eggs" at Cabellas so your home can be infused with that fresh-cut evergreen scent. Traditionalists are dying right now.

There was a time, earlier in my childhood, when our Christmas tree decorations included a dozen or so Candy Canes hanging from the branches. For as long as I can recall, I've loved the minty sweetness of a traditional Candy Cane, and I have to confess, it seems blasphemous that they come in a wide variety of soda pop flavours now. To my childhood brain, the long-lasting sugary goodness was Nirvana, no doubt sending my Pancreas into spasm during it's consumption. According to the National Confectioners Association (alwaysatreat.com), candy canes are the #1 selling non-chocolate candy during the holiday season, with 90% sold between Thanksgiving and Christmas. My wife, God bless her, is not nearly the fan that I am, but thanks to what I can only surmise is genetics, my daughter's eyes light up at the mention, just like her pappy. The two of us bide our days each year until the annual release of the PC version of Candy Cane ice cream. According to the NCA, the biggest single week for candy canes is traditionally the second week of December, stemming from the tree decorating tradition for many families. Susan Benjamin, founder of True Treats Historic Candy (truetreatscandy.com), and author of "Sweet as Sin: The Unwrapped Story of How Candy Became America’s Pleasure", poses that the candy cane most likely took it's shepherd's crook shape in 17th century Europe when pulled sugars, the parent to today’s striped treats, were all the rage, the change in shape intended to connect to the religious overtones of the holiday.

Thanks to Wikipedia, the tradition of leaving stockings hung somewhere conspicuous in hopes that a certain jolly elf would fill them with treats is easily explained. For the Porter clan, thanks to our English roots, the stockings were hung by the mantle, and we were only permitted access to them before Christmas morning breakfast, almost like battle preparations for much anticipated wrapped presents under the tree. Once dumped, they faithfully offered up some small toys, some of our favourite sugary treats, and maybe a puzzle or two, but as the years progressed, and I had my own children, the size of said stockings grew from reasonable dimensions to flour-sack sizes to accommodate indulgences. It's a sad truth that we allowed the commercialism of the holiday to creep into our home, but I confess that the sheer exuberance on my children's faces made it justifiable. My on-line deep dive revealed, however, that it was not always stockings that were left out for filling. In Scandinavia hopeful children leave shoes by the fireplace, a tradition traced to legends surrounding Saint Nicholas. One such story tells of 3 poor sisters who could not marry because they had no money for a dowry, so to save them from being sold into prostitution (Wait .. WHAT?) by their father, St. Nick left each of the three sisters gifts of gold coins. Surely stuff of an active mind, the tale says that one coin went down the chimney and landed in a pair of shoes that had been left on the hearth, while another went into a window and into a pair of stockings left hanging by the fire to dry. 

The astute may share my curiousity ... if St Nick was a true religious figure, what was he doing on the roof so that dropped coins might access the chimney or window? Such is the lure of legends, I guess.

We don't regularly have a poinsettia plant these days, partially because we got out of the habit when were in our cat years ... they're poisonous to kitties who can't seem to resist nibbling ... but I've always thought that they were a beautiful addition to the ambiance. According to History.com, the Poinsettia name comes from Joel R. Poinsett, an American minister to Mexico, who fell in love with the Christmasy coloured red-and-green plant and brought it back home from Mexico in 1828.  By 1870, stores began to sell them at Christmas, and in no time, they were a universal symbol of the holiday.

Did your family ever hang Mistletoe? We didn't embrace this particular oddity, but in those years it found it's way to our doorways, I made sure to steal a peck or 2. The custom has its clearest connection with Norse mythology, in which Frigg, the goddess of love, promised to kiss any creature that passed beneath the evergreen sprig after it was used to revive her son, Baldur, from the dead (after initially killing him). 

Another head-scratcher when you try to dissect the info from the story.

The Celtic Druids also saw mistletoe, which blossoms in the winter, as a sacred symbol of vivacity and prescribed it for fertility issues. According to History.com, the modern tradition of meeting under the mistletoe started in England, so it makes sense that it became a staple in NA.

Whichever traditions have squirmed their way into your family's annual celebrations, it's my sincere hope that it makes this time of year a time of gratitude and love. From my family to yours, with whichever holiday you celebrate during December, I wish you health, prosperity, happiness, and peace. 

Christmas curiosities

If your family is anything like mine, you've a host of traditions that have been in play for years, making them seem like everyone does them. The fact is that our Christmas traditions are more curiosity than doctrine, rising out of familial wants and desires rather than religious or cultural practices. 

Don't believe me? A little sustained use of the Interwebs (as my daughter is prone to call it) uncovers a host of Christmas curiosities.

Chances are if you grew up in Canada or the US, your immediate mental image of Santa is a portly, rosy cheeked, cookie munching, baritone belly-laughing, benevolent elf-like grandpa and not of an austere, angular, sallow cheeked elderly gentleman dressed in a monk's cossack. What naysayers need to understand is that North America is the great melting pot of cultural dogma, born out of the mish-mash of traditional observances thanks to a wide assortment of immigrational influences attributable to large populations of new citizens from all over the globe bringing their vision of holiday celebrations with them. Plainly put, we are very much a mixture of snippets taken from this place and that, creating a whole that is often greater than the parts, and very much influenced by the mass media juggernaut.

According to the site History.com, the real life inspiration behind Santa was a Christian monk who lived in what is now Turkey, around the 3rd century AD. 

"We know very few historical details about St. Nicholas’s life. Even the year of his death is uncertain, although both the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches have celebrated December 6—the date of his passing—for more than 1,000 years. Within a century of his death, the much-admired Nicholas had become the center of a series of folk legends. He was credited with stopping a violent storm to save doomed sailors, donating money to a father forced to sell his daughters into prostitution, and even restoring to life a trio of boys who had been dismembered by an unscrupulous butcher. Today, Nicholas is considered the patron saint of sailors, children, wolves and pawnbrokers, among others."

"Over the course of many years, Nicholas’s popularity spread and he became known as the protector of children and sailors. His feast day is celebrated on the anniversary of his death, December 6. This was traditionally considered a lucky day to make large purchases or to get married. By the Renaissance, St. Nicholas was the most popular saint in Europe. Even after the Protestant Reformation, when the veneration of saints began to be discouraged, St. Nicholas maintained a positive reputation, especially in Holland."

Speaking of Holland, the name Santa Claus can be traced back to Dutch roots where St Nicholas was nicknamed "Sinter Klaas", Our present-day mental image is thanks to 1809 "A History of New York" author, Washington Irving, who referred to St Nicholas as the patron saint of New York and described him as a “rascal” with a blue three-cornered hat, red waistcoat, yellow stockings, and a “huge pair of Flemish trunk hose.” Eventually, the recognizable image of the Americanized Sinter Klaas morphed thanks to Clement Clark Moore's "T'was the Night Before Christmas" description, enhanced by political cartoonist Thomas Nast in his rendition published in Harper's Weekly depicting what we now accept as the "true" Santa as a rotund, cheerful man with a full, white beard, holding a sack laden with toys for lucky children.

North America’s Santa Claus was not the only St. Nicholas-inspired gift-giver to make an appearance at Christmastime, and the previously mentioned melting pot of immigrant traditions from around the globe resulted in morsels handpicked for appeal by North American culture.

There are similar figures and Christmas traditions around the world. In Switzerland and Germany, Christkind was believed to deliver presents to well-behaved children. Meaning “Christ child,” Christkind is an angel-like figure often accompanied by St. Nicholas on his holiday missions and the Americanization of it led to Santa's other name, Kris Kringle. In Scandinavia, a jolly elf named Jultomten was thought to deliver gifts in a sleigh drawn by goats. English legend explains that Father Christmas visits each home on Christmas Eve to fill children’s stockings with holiday treats. Père Noël is responsible for filling the shoes of French children. In Italy, there is a story of a woman called La Befana, a kindly witch who rides a broomstick down the chimneys of Italian homes to deliver toys into the stockings of lucky children.

For centuries, Christmas has been celebrated on December 25th, the justification entrenched in Christian doctrine that the date commemorates the birth of Jesus. While there has been much debate on the actual date of Christ's birth, there is no biblical proof of its validity. 

According to Encyclopædia Britannica (CLICK), 

Christmas, the holiday commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, is celebrated by a majority of Christians on December 25 in the Gregorian calendar. But early Christians did not celebrate his birth, and no one knows on which date Jesus was actually born (some scholars believe that the actual date was in the early spring, placing it closer to Easter, the holiday commemorating his Resurrection). The origins of the holiday and its December date lie in the ancient Greco-Roman world, as commemorations probably began sometime in the 2nd century. There are at least three possible origins for the December date. The Roman Christian historian Sextus Julius Africanus dated Jesus’ conception to March 25 (the same date upon which he held that the world was created), which, after nine months in his mother’s womb, would result in a December 25 birth. In the 3rd century, the Roman Empire, which at the time had not adopted Christianity, celebrated the rebirth of the Unconquered Sun (Sol Invictus) on December 25th. This holiday not only marked the return of longer days after the winter solstice but also followed the popular Roman festival called the Saturnalia (during which people feasted and exchanged gifts). It was also the birthday of the Indo-European deity Mithra, a god of light and loyalty whose cult was at the time growing popular among Roman soldiers.

Well, there you have it.

One of the more popular characters of our North American Christmases is Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, but many have no idea that he was "born" out of the tragedy of cancer. According to the CBC.ca site (CLICK), Rudolph was the product of Robert L May's childhood experiences combined with his desire to comfort his 5 year old daughter's sadness from losing her mother, May's wife, to cancer. It turns out that May was a struggling writer who worked as a copywriter for the Ads department of Montgomery Ward, a huge chain of stores second only to Sears. Montgomery Ward had a policy of giving away free children's books during the holiday season, and May had a dream of being published. His daughter Barbara's favourite animals were the deer at Lincoln Park Zoo, and spurred by the tragedy of his wife's passing, he dreamed up the story of a little misfit reindeer with talents that weren't immediately visible, perhaps echoing his own life. His daughter loved the slowly evolving story so much, begging for retelling night after night, that May eventually persevered through initial publishing disappointments to realize his dream in 1939. The tale was an instant hit with those who received a copy. In a stroke of Christmas magic, the head of Montgomery Ward, Sewell Avery, recognized the injustice that stemmed from May only receiving his salary for his writing genius, and in 1947 returned all rights of the piece to the author, a HUGE financial windfall. 

As awesome a story this is, the REAL Christmas miracle, and the reason billions of children around the world know about Rudolph, was thanks to the marriage of May's sister, Margaret, to Johnny Marks, a struggling songwriter from Mt Vernon, NY. After learning of the cute tale his brother-in-law had created, Marks was inspired to write the famous song, and in a stroke of sheer luck, convinced country superstar Gene Autry to record it. Actually, the song so enamoured Autry's wife, she convinced Autry of its value, and convinced him that his initial distaste for the song was unfounded. Autry's B side recording became the 2nd all-time recorded single behind only White Christmas.

"... but do you recall, the most famous reindeer of all?"

Regardless of what your family does to observe the holiday season, the universal truth of good will to your fellow man, embracing the love of those dear, and being present in the wonders around us are the foundations of all holiday celebrations across the planet, regardless of what its called.

I'm going to make sure I exercise those universal truths ... how about you?