Category Archives: Holiday Celebrations
Counting Down to New Year’s with Rita Bay
The countdown to the New Year is on and it’s my day for a Holiday Celebration. My paranormal novels are published by Champagne Book Group and my historicals by Siren BookStrand. Check out the blurb for my most recent shapeshifter novella with Champagne, Into the Lyons’ Den. But first, I’m sharing my recipe for Hoppin’ John. Many folks in the coastal South will be dining on Hoppin’ John this New Year’s Day.
Hoppin’ John is a rice and black-eyed peas dish that originated in West Africa. Tradition has it that Hoppin’ John on New Year’s Day will bring you good luck throughout the year. Can’t say for sure if that’s true, but I certainly don’t intend to go without to find out. The recipe is flexible but mine ends up a tad gummy–don’t want no soupy Hoppin John. Topped with sharp cheddar cheese and sprinkled liberally with hot sauce, it’s hard to beat, unless you serve jalapeno & cheese cornbread on the side. BTW, this is one of those dishes that tastes better the next day, if there’s any left. Enjoy.
HOPPIN’ JOHN
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups dried black-eyed peas that have soaked overnight
8 cups water, divided 2 teaspoons salt
1 tsp black pepper 1 ham hock
5 slices of bacon 1 large onion, chopped
2 cups medium-grain white rice, uncooked
1 teaspoon garlic powder Sharp Cheddar cheese
Directions: Over medium heat, place the dried black-eyed peas, 6 cups of water, salt and ham hock in a large pot. Cook covered over medium heat until tender. While the peas are cooking, fry the bacon until crisp. Remove bacon, crumble and set aside, reserving the bacon grease. Sauté chopped onion in the bacon grease until soft. In a large-sized pot with a tight-fitting lid (iron if you have it), add the rice, 2 cups of the pea liquid, 2 cups of water, 2 cups of the cooked black-eyed peas, sautéed onions, bacon grease, garlic powder and crumbled bacon. Cook covered over medium-low heat until rice is done. If needed add more pea liquid if rice gets too dry. Top with cheese and serve with hot sauce and a skillet of cornbread on the side. Enjoy.
INTO THE LYONS’ DEN
INTO THE LYONS’ DEN (A Shapeshifter Paranormal, M/F, R)Wealthy recluse Anthony Lyons offers a mint to lure Marie Maxwell, Atlanta’s most sought-after event planner, to coordinate a wedding and reception for a “very special couple” on his isolated estate in the mountains of North Carolina. Despite her sophisticated veneer, Marie’s a tough street-smart orphan without a past. Adopted by the owners of the elegant Hotel Maxwell, she’s been raised in the business. Known for her uncanny ability to “make things go right,” Marie accepts the challenge of planning a wedding for 200 guests in 10 days.
Marie soon discovers that an absent bride and groom is the least of her problems. Her arrogant and exasperating employer displays far too much interest in her and her personal life, especially her lost years. Confronted with a mysterious stalker, two thwarted murder attempts, and dark shadows from her shrouded past, she finds an ally in an amorous feline of some unknown species. But who’s got it in for her? And what’s with Anthony and all the cats?
Click the BEAUTIFUL Book Cover to Buy or read excerpt.
Tomorrow, Author Mary McCall Rita Bay
Filed under Holiday Celebrations
Twas the Night Before Christmas
“Twas the Night before Christmas” was originally published on the December 23, 1823. In 1844 Clement Clarke Moore, a member of a prominent New York family, admitted ownership when the work was included in a book of his poetry. The poem was originally titled “A Visit from Saint Nicholas.” Since the poem’s publication, it has become a tradition to read it on Christmas Eve. Pic is from a 1912 edition via Project Gutenburg.
Twas the Night before Christmas Poem
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
Tomorrow, The Nativity According to Matthew Rita Bay
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High-End Christmas Gift – A Child’s Dream
Check out this magnificent playground set for the child who has almost everything. You’ll need a whopping 60′ on a side to fit it in your yard.
This Thomas Modular Playground from Sports Play comes in purple, red, blue, tan. orange, yellow, green, and white. Cost? $50,441.40 and the shipping will set you back another $7,000. Sweet, if you have it.
Tomorrow, another High-End Gift. Rita Bay
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Welcome Author Jude Johnson
Champagne Author Jude Johnson writes historical fiction. In a Melty Christmas to You, Jude shares with us her family’s personal saga of the Aluminum Christmas Tree.
Melty Christmas to You
As a child, Christmas was the most eagerly awaited and magical time of the entire year. The anticipation and excitement of the day the tree came into the house nearly matched the thrill of listening for sleigh bells on Christmas Eve night. And where I grew up in the farmlands of western Pennsylvania, choosing and cutting a tree from the woods was tradition.
Imagine if you will then the trauma in 1964 for this six-year-old when Dad came into the house not with a fat and fragrant pine tree, but a long white box containing The Abominable Aluminum Tree. Each branch had to be carefully released from its own paper sheath with one end a potential pointy weapon and the other a tinsel mum blossom. Two poles wrapped in cheap, thin foil screwed together into a skinny trunk and fit into a base that resembled a misshapen baked potato. When plugged in, a motor in the base rotated the entire tree. A heavy stage light with a rotating stained glass plate of red, blue, green, and yellow squatted on the floor to supposedly bathe the glittery tree in a cascade of color. We were not permitted to decorate this wonder with our handmade ornaments but only the fragile glass balls Dad brought. He had one box of red and one box of gold.
I thought it was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. Mom didn’t care for it either. But Dad loved it and that was all there was to it. By decree, The Abomination was put up every December for the next three years.
Aluminum trees were first introduced in the 1950s, reaching their peak of popularity in the space-age loving, mod and hip mid-1960s. One theory on Wikipedia states it was the Charlie Brown Christmas special that lessened the demand for the silvery trees, satirizing them as part of the modernization of the holiday that was ruining it for the hapless hero. His choice of the scrawny but natural tree seemed to rejuvenate esteem for green pines while dealing the death blow to prefab foil kitsch.
I contend, however, it was my family’s doing.
My family probably inspired the government’s Warning Label Project For The Less-Than-Sensible. The combination of the manufacturer’s steel light housing a 150-watt incandescent bulb and a motor to turn the lead glass plate was at least a recipe for second and third degree burns for someone. But our family rose to the challenge to go far beyond mere flesh wounds or testing the capacity of hospital burn units. Another Christmas tree fire? Pul-eeze, that’s so mundane.
Yes, Virginia, aluminum can melt. In Year Three of The Fake Tree, one of my sisters (who shall remain nameless to avoid the paparazzi) decided the pretty colors of light would look much better pointing upward from directly under the tree branches. Unfortunately, the casing would only angle forty-five degrees. But that didn’t stop me–uh, I mean my sister. Set it upside down directly on the tree’s funky base and voila! Colored light shot all the way up to the ceiling and around the room from the foil strands and ornaments in a rather cool precursor of the disco mirror ball looming in the not-so-distant future.
It wasn’t the smell that alerted us to trouble during dinner, nor the grinding squeal of burning motors. Ornaments smashed and shattered with an eerie similarity to gunshots. Our big collie-mix dog immediately ran into the room and shot under the kitchen table–his usual hiding place during thunderstorms and hunting season–knocking my brother’s knees and sending his chair crashing backward. My father jumped to his feet and dashed into the living room. The rest of us followed.
A half-melted mass of grayish-silver glommed the floor, surrounded with red and gold shrapnel in a crazy post-Bacchanal Roman mosaic. Nothing whirred or whined; when the tree fell, it had pulled its electrical cords from the sockets. You could smell heat but nothing smoked and there were no flames. But those mum blossoms had melded together in places and would never fit into their paper tubes or their allotted slots in the now deformed trunk again. Thank goodness there had been no presents placed under it.
Timing, after all, is everything.
Mom made sure we had real trees every year after The Melty Christmas. When artificial trees became more lifelike, those became the better choice, allowing more pines to remain and thrive in the woods. Now when I see the brilliant purple and pink aluminum display trees in the stores, I have to smile. Betcha they don’t come with a steel-cased stage light.
[P.S. You’re welcome, Mom. xoxo]
Jude’s Dragon & Hawk series is the saga of a Welsh immigrant in 1880s Arizona, the Mexican-Mayan healer he falls for, and their struggle to survive and establish a family. Her latest novel, Dragon’s Legacy, is Book Three of the trilogy. Jude’s short story, Within The Mists, is an historical fantasy involving the ancient Celtic legend of the selchie–a human on land and a seal in the sea–and an officer of the British Navy during the Napoleonic Wars.
Click Book Cover to Buy at Champagne
Visit Jude’s webpage: http://www.jude-johnson.com/
Tomorrow, Siren BookStrand author, Kate Patrick
Filed under Guest Author, Holiday Celebrations
Happy Chanukah
Chanukah begins at sunset this evening. Chanukah celebrates two miracles: (1) the defeat of the vastly superior Greek army that occupied the Holy Land by a small army (the Maccabes) in the second century BC and (2) the olive oil which was used in the rededication of the Holy Temple which should have lasted for only one day burned for eight days and nights. Chanukah is not a biblical holiday since it was instituted two centuries after the Bible was completed and canonized. It is traditionally celebrated publicly by positioning the Chanukah menorah at the door or window.
On the first night of Chanukah, one candle is lit to the far right of the menorah. On the following night add a second light to the left of the first one, and then add one light each night of Chanukah—moving from right to left. Each night, light the newest (leftmost) candle first, and continue lighting from left to right. Lights are added to the menorah from right to left, and are lit from left to right. The ninth candle is called the shamash or “attendant” candle. It is used to light the other ones.
Because of the central role that oil played in the Chanukah miracle, it is customary to serve foods fried in oil. Dairy food is also served. A totally cool custom among Sephardic residents of Jerusalem is to arrange communal meals during the eight days of Chanukah. Friends who quarreled during the year traditionally reconcile at these meals.
All of the info above was taken from an extremely informative site. Check it out at: http://www.chabad.org/holidays/chanukah/article_cdo/aid/605036/jewish/Chanukah-FAQs.htm. Happy Chanukah to all who will begin their celebration this evening.
Tomorrow, Author Ronald Hore
December 8, 2012 · 12:05 am
Romy Gemmell: Christmas & Hogmanay in Scotland
It is my great pleasure to welcome to Rita Bay’s Blog author Romy Gemell who will share some of the holiday traditions of her Scottish homeland. Romy’s first historical novel, DANGEROUS DECEIT, set in Regency England, was published by Champagne Books in Canada in May 2011. DANGEROUS DECEIT is available in e-book and print from: http://champagnebooks.com and available from http://www.amazon.com (and co.uk) for kindle, or from http://www.smashwords.com for other e-readers.
Her first tween novel, SUMMER OF THE EAGLES, which is set in Scotland, is being published by MuseItUp Publishing in Canada in March 2012 (as Ros). She also writes short stories and articles, many of which are published in national magazines.
Many traditions celebrated in Scotland and other parts of Britain over the Christmas period have their origins in pagan times. At one time, decorations were simple holly, ivy and mistletoe brought in from the gardens and fields, all significant symbols of pre-Christian times. Christmas was banned during the 16th century when the Puritans took power, and only became really popular again in Victorian times.
Most churches celebrate Advent, in the four weeks leading up to Christmas, then on Christmas Eve we attend a carol service or Midnight Mass late in the evening to welcome the birth of the Christ child. The giving of gifts varies between families. Most children (and adults too sometimes) hang up their stocking on Christmas Eve, in the hope that Father Christmas will fill it with trinkets, fruits and nuts. We then give and receive other gifts in the morning.
At the main Christmas dinner, goose and turkey have always been traditional fare, with all the trimmings of stuffing, mini sausages wrapped in Bacon, Brussels sprouts and parsnips, bread sauce and cranberry sauce. The traditional Christmas pudding is usually made a month or two before Christmas, accompanied by ‘the stirring of the pudding’, an old custom. Each person in the house takes a turn of stirring the mixture and making a wish.
In Scotland, New Year’s Eve is more celebrated than in the rest of the UK, with the partying, drinking and dancing going on for several days. We call it Hogmanay and several traditions surround it even today. At one time, each housewife cleaned her home from top to bottom, ensuring we met the New Year as clean as possible. Although many of us don’t go to quite the same extremes now, we still do what we can. Having always lived near the River Clyde, we used to open the back doors at midnight to hear any ships on the river toot their horn to welcome the New Year.
One tradition that still thrives is the dancing. Many halls up and down the country host someone’s ceilidh, for our Scottish country dancing. The best have a live group with fiddles and accordion – the most toe-tapping sound you’re likely to hear all year! With energetic eightsome reels and dashing white sergeants, jigs and strathspeys, very few people sit still. And of course, most young men now wear the kilt even more than before, pleated tartan swinging at each turn. Enormous fun. For those at home, our television channels always bring us the evening’s entertainment from Glasgow or Edinburgh, with singing and Scottish dancing. As twelve o’clock approaches, the ‘bells’ are counted down until the stroke of midnight when we wish each other Happy New Year with a handshake, a kiss, and a toast.
But another old tradition must be observed if possible. Each home should have a ‘first footer’ – a tall, dark and handsome man as the first person to enter a house any time after midnight on Hogmanay. He should bring a lump of coal for luck (not so common now!) and some shortbread or cake. Anyone visiting homes over the New Year period will always take something for the host. And of course, it wouldn’t be Hogmanay without the necessary ‘wee dram’ of whisky to toast the New Year! Romy Gemell
Website: www.rosemarygemmell.com
General writing/information blog: http://ros-readingandwriting.blogspot.com
Romancing History blog: http://romygemmell.blogspot.com
Children’s writing blog: http://rosgemmell.blogspot.com
Twitter: @rosemarygemmell
Thank you so much, Romy, for visiting. Tomorrow, A Discovery. Rita Bay
Filed under Holiday Celebrations
A New Year’s Family Treat: Hoppin’ John
Promised y’all a family treat. Many folks in the coastal South will be dining on Hoppin’ John this New Year’s Day. Hoppin’ John is a rice and black-eyed peas dish that originated in West Africa. Tradition has it that Hoppin’ John on New Year’s Day will bring you good luck throughout the year. Can’t say for sure if that’s true, but I certainly don’t intend to go without to find out. The recipe is flexible but mine ends up a tad gummy–don’t want no soupy Hoppin John. Topped with sharp cheddar cheese and sprinkled liberally with hot sauce, it’s hard to beat, unless you serve jalapeno & cheese cornbread on the side. BTW, this is one of those dishes that taste better the next day. (The pic’s not mine, but it’s close.) Enjoy.
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups dried black-eyed peas that have soaked overnight
8 cups water, divided 2 teaspoons salt
1 tsp black pepper 1 ham hock
5 slices of bacon 1 large onion, chopped
2 cups medium-grain white rice, uncooked
1 teaspoon garlic powder Sharp Cheddar cheese
Directions Over medium heat, place the dried black-eyed peas, 6 cups of water, salt and ham hock in a large pot. Cook covered over medium heat until tender. While the peas are cooking, fry the bacon until crisp. Remove bacon, crumble and set aside, reserving the bacon grease. Sauté chopped onion in the bacon grease until soft. In a large-sized pot with a tight-fitting lid (iron if you have it), add the rice, 2 cups of the pea liquid, 2 cups of water, 2 cups of the cooked black-eyed peas, sautéed onions, bacon grease, garlic powder and crumbled bacon. Cook covered over medium-low heat until rice is done. If needed add more pea liquid if rice gets too dry. Top with cheese and serve with hot sauce and a skillet of corn bread.
Tomorrow, Romy Gemmell on New Years & Hogmanay in Scotland Rita Bay
Filed under Holiday Celebrations
“io Saturnalia”
Saturn/Cronus
Saturnalia was an ancient Roman festival to honor Saturn (the equivalent of the Greek god Cronus), one of the early agricultural gods who predated the traditional Roman pantheon. The festival was originally celebrated on December 17th and later expanded an additional week to December 23rd. Although the festival was celebrated across the Roman Empire, in Rome the festival began with a sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn in the Roman Forum and a public banquet which was attended by Saturn’s statue. Perhaps one of the best-known elements of the Saturnalia festival was the exchange of places between the slaves and the masters.
Dicing during Saturnalia
The masters put aside their togas, donned skimpy outfits with caps often traditionally worn by Greeks that would be out-of-place at any other time, and served the slaves during the banquet. The public celebration was followed by private observances in the home including the sacrifice of a pig. Later celebrations continued outside with shouts of “io Saturnalia” filling the streets. (Io, pronounced yo, was an expression of elation.) Gambling which was frowned upon at any other time was permitted during Saturnalia. After seven days of celebration, the celebration ended with the exchange of gifts among family, friends, and with the slaves.
Saturnalia was also a festival of light that led up to the winter solstice. The abundance of lit candles symbolized the search for knowledge and truth and the approach of the new year which was celebrated on December 25th as Sol Invictus, the Birthday of the Unconquerable Sun. Some elements of the celebration carried over into the Christmas celebrations during the later Roman Empire.
Tomorrow, My Family’s New Year’s Must Have Rita Bay
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Vintage Card: The Flight into Egypt
After the wise men were gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up! Flee to Egypt with the child and his mother,” the angel said. “Stay there until I tell you to return, because Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.” Matthew 2:13
Note: Card dates to 1920s. Ponder was a cousin.
Tomorrow, Saturnalia Rita Bay
Filed under Holiday Celebrations
