Bah Humbug! It's December, again - 15 more days to go

There are no chimneys in Singapore

Actually, I probably lie, there are chimneys in Singapore, but not ones connected to fireplaces. Theoretically, I am probably lying again, but I argue that these fireplaces, feeding the chimneys that do exist, are not the chimneys and fireplaces meant for Santa, nor for roasting chestnuts around.

So, supermarkets, will you please cease and desist from playing Nat King Cole with his chestnuts around the open fire. Not least because it would be considered dangerous and contrary to health and safety.

And so, back to chimneys again.

The origin of Santa Claus climbing down the chimney is shared by many Europeans, and is thought to have originated from a Norse tradition. Odin entered homes on the winter solstice, climbing down chimneys or smoke holes to mark the beginning of winter.

In old traditions, the hearth (or fireplace stone) was believed to be sacred and a place that brought the family together. And the 17^th century Dutch artist Jan Steen painted a family looking up the chimney at Christmas. Which shows that Santa Claus was climbing down chimneys all over the world.

St Nicholas, as many like to call him, visited houses at Christmas, throwing coins in through open windows, however, when the windows were locked, he would throw coins down the chimney instead. 

Most likely, he found the door locked.

As winter was cold and freezing, St. Nicholas was eventually welcomed into houses, and children would leave nuts and fruit for him. It was probably around 1800 that Santa Claus and clambering down the chimney was exported to the US and the rest is commercialised - Bah Humbug.

As I finish my bah-humbugish commercialisation of chimneys, there is the rather heated issue of how Santa and his immense mass, was able to squeeze down the chimney and avoid singeing his backside.

And so, here are the first two pages of a little ditty, sketched out and ready for publishing, next year ....

DOWN THE CHIMNEY ©

 

It’s Christmas Day, without the gifts,

Did Santa get our lists?

Dad said, ‘It’s cold, I’ll get a log,

While mother feeds the dog.’

I looked around the Christmas tree,

In search of gifts for me,

My brother searched with all his might,

There was nothing there in sight.

http://people.howstuffworks.com/culture-traditions/holidays-christmas/santa-chimney.htm

http://www.americanchimneyservices.com/katy/117-the-history-of-santa-claus-and-chimneys.html

http://www.unmuseum.org/santa.htm

Bah Humbug! It's December, again - 20 more days to go

There's no such thing as a free lunch ...

But, if you spend $10 in the supermarket down the road today, you get a free Santa sock and a box of ice lollies that probably won't sell for some reason or another.

'Ooo, how cute, is it for free?' I overhead someone at the cashier. 

Well, it might be cute, but, like the devil horns and cloth red noses that are for the pleasure of decorating your car these socks are not something I would necessarily part with coins for.

I jokingly told the shop assistant that it was my lucky day - all this free stuff. All this free stuff, and at Christmas. 

Now, where on earth did the idea of leaving a smelly sock tied to a mantlepiece originate?

This is the most popular myth:

Once, many years ago, in a country where the winter always brings snow and ice and the summer brings crisp and clear blue skies, there lived a poor widower. He was a hardworking man who missed his dear wife. His one, or rather three loves, were his three beautiful daughters.  Every morning before he left to look for work in the village, he thanked the saints for delivering him three such dutiful and kind young women.

Every evening, when he returned from the village, he lamented the fact that he hardly had enough money to make ends meet from day to day, and certainly not enough money for a dowry for his three daughters. 

Every day and every night the poor widower continued to worry about his three gentle daughters and what would become of them. Without a dowry, no one would want to marry them. Many of the villagers offered the poor widower help. But the man was proud and refused their help.

Then one night, in December, St. Nicholas visited the tiny remote village where the poor widower lived. The villagers related the tale of the poor widower and his beautiful daughters. So, that night, when the poor widower was fast asleep and the three daughters were tucked up and dreaming in their beds, St. Nicholas climbed down the chimney into their home. He was careful not to disturb anything. 

He noticed the girls had left their cleanly laundered red stockings hanging near the fireplace to dry. So, digging deep into his sack, St. Nicholas pulled out three golden orbs and placed one in each stocking.

The next morning, when the girls awoke, they were surprised and overjoyed to find the rich gifts and their father never worried again as his daughters were guaranteed a good marriage.

Obviously, today, unless you belong to the mega rich, you are not going to find a golden orb in your Christmas stocking. But you never know, you might find an orange, or something else ...

So, there we are, the legend behind why we hang smelly socks out for Santa. I wonder if he carries a clothes peg with him, just in case someone had sweaty feet.

And, so with that legend put to bed, I began to wonder what other luck might befall my day. 

What was apparent this afternoon, while battling unconscious Christmas frenzied shoppers was how ridiculously commercial this time of year has become. There is no goodwill in a supermarket, only greedy shoppers and people insisting on following some rule they've created in the chambers of their minds.

And the only bells on Christmas day I could hear were those of the cash registers tinkling through the throngs of screaming children.

A real Bah Humbug afternoon to you all.

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/the-legend-of-the-christmas-stocking-160854441/?no-ist
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_stocking
http://www.wikihow.com/Fill-a-Christmas-Stocking