Category: Holidays

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The Badgers of Imbolc

Amused Grace: For the Groundhog, Blessed of Brighid, artwork by Thalia Took

Yesterday was Groundhog Day, so in the true modern, post-1993 meaning of the phrase, I’m going to revisit it. That is, for those who have not seen the Bill Murray movie Groundhog Day, to become stuck in an endless time loop until able to sufficiently reform one’s behavior. I don’t know what behavior I should reform, perhaps getting to the point quicker? So let’s revisit Groundhog Day.

In celebrating the spirit of the season, I will ask three critical questions about Groundhog Day. Why there? Why that? and Why now? Yes, you can read this stuff on Wikipedia, but if you did, you won’t get any jokes. And since it’s 3 questions, it’s kind of magical and mystical, which is also fitting. Although I’m not sure the townspeople of Punxsutawney know this.

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Under Wraps

Late Victorian era, photo from hhhistory.com.

Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things…

The extra-hard crossword puzzle contest this week courtesy of the WSJ is “Under Wraps,” so while I was pondering its solution, I started thinking about wrapping paper. I discovered, as I poked around sites which did addressed this topic (sponsored by Hallmark etc), that many had bits and pieces but none seemed to thread them together. You need the Victorians, you need the Flexography press, the toilet paper, the papyrus reeds, the red symbology of China, and the Roman army. Nobody mentioned them all. So let me rectify that gap.

I set out to answer two specific questions. First, when did we–Americans if you want to be specific–start decorating holiday gifts with colored wrapping paper and ribbons? And, secondly, how did cultures over time convey their gifts? Who started wrapping, when and how?

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Mom’s China

“I can’t find the rest of these crystal glasses,” KK says, lying on the kitchen floor, one arm buried deep in a cabinet. There are rattling noises, and she keeps shining her phone’s flashlight deep into the Underworld of our kitchenware. “This is all the Rosenthal stuff.”

Two pieces of the remaining Rosenthal set. All photos by kajmeister, exc. Wedgwood medallion.

My mom received a set of Rosenthal china as a wedding present. When she died in 1997, I ended up with it. Most of it I stored, but I kept a platter out among our other fancy buffet dishes. A few holidays ago, when it was pulled out for use, the platter cracked neatly in half, which has made me loathe to use any other pieces.

As we were making Thanksgiving turkey and trimmings this year, pulling out the special bowl to mix stuffing and another bowl to sport cranberries, I realized that there’s a big gap between what I would use for a dinner party and what my mom would use. Not that strange these days, of course, my kids would say, “dinner party, WTF?” But the idea of hauling out a single set of matching delicate dishes for a meal seems bizarre, even on a special holiday with people you care about.

There is a history for things like Rosenthal china, a company history and a personal history. These things intersect and create waves of overlapping interference, like in a pond. This may explain why we have such a patchwork quilt of dishes when we serve dinner, all of which are precious.

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