Sol Invictus!
The Romans considered 25 December the midwinter solstice, and celebrated it as the Day of the Invincible Sun, right up to the time of Emperor Constantine. So this was a joyous holiday season before Jesus came on the scene. (Who was probably born in the autumn anyway.)
That's fine with me. My Scandinavian ancestors were celebrating the pagan Yule about the same time of year, with the same kind of reasoning. Quite understandable; if you lived in the subarctic winter, you'd be praying for the sun to come back this time of year as well. So, light the candles and bonfires, with the optimism that sun and warmth will come back even in the deepest gloom of winter. Spiritually, I can relate to that. Still a pagan at heart, perhaps....
Here in the Judean Mountains it is raining, and we got a hailstorm as well. My woodstove is cranked up and radiating; the cats and dogs are in a half-circle of baskets around the hearth, and I'm bundled in turtleneck, fleece vest, and fleece jacket, lamb's wool slippers and wool socks, and only my nose is chilly.
Winter starts in earnest now and the challenge will be to stay warm until the middle of February, when spring starts here. I have a good pile of wood, thermal curtains also partition the house in half, and I focus on keeping the living room heated. In the bedroom I have down duvets with cats liberally distributed over them at night, so I tend to get too warm rather than cold. These stone houses are chilly, though, and it gets hard to get out of bed in the dark at 4 am on workday mornings.
Christmas is coming. I still get nostalgic for it. The Christmas cactus is blooming. I'm having a little celebration at work on Christmas Eve (despite some snide remarks from the more bigoted secretaries who still don't like the idea that I'm not Jewish). I got an almond cake from Berlin but also kosher cakes from a local bakery, and fruit and hot tea and hot apple cider. Tinsel for the library, and a little Christmas tree for the table, bought in a Russian shop. My sister sent a box of gifts which I'm saving until then to put under the little tree.
My Greenland Inuit cousins got the package I sent them in time for Christmas. They now have what is probably the only kiddush cup in Greenland, along with a few other local curiosities. To my surprise they recognzied the checked keffiyahs I sent as wrapping; it seems even in the Arctic the keffiyah was a fashion statement during the last decades. Talk about advertising!
I'll work a good bit of the next two weeks, but taking Christmas Day off to visit friends who are celebrating in both the Irish and the Slovak style. A trip to the spa, a good dinner, and it's enough holiday for me.
Work this time of year is a matter of steady plugging along. A manuscript is nearing completion for publication, and we are gearing up for the spring's field work and the new grant. My English colleague Bob Bunce, and his wife Freda, will be coming for a week in spring to see our landscapes more carefully. (Also to see flowers and birds at a time when the Lake District where they live is still bogged down in winter. We showed them paradise on earth when they were here the last time, and they want to see more of it. Israel in April is the Garden of Eden, even if it is mud or dust the rest of the year.) Our project is centered on habitat mapping, so we can justify a run from the forests of Galilee to the extreme deserts around Eilat.
Well, the cold is getting into my bones despite the woodstove, so I'm going to creep off to bed and cuddle with the critters and my pipe over a good book. Winter nights have their pleasures; feeling snug only works when outside it is cold and miserable. Even the stray cats I feed outside are bunked down in a dry cave out of the rain, so it's a strong hint that I should seek my cave as well.
g'night
Linda
That's fine with me. My Scandinavian ancestors were celebrating the pagan Yule about the same time of year, with the same kind of reasoning. Quite understandable; if you lived in the subarctic winter, you'd be praying for the sun to come back this time of year as well. So, light the candles and bonfires, with the optimism that sun and warmth will come back even in the deepest gloom of winter. Spiritually, I can relate to that. Still a pagan at heart, perhaps....
Here in the Judean Mountains it is raining, and we got a hailstorm as well. My woodstove is cranked up and radiating; the cats and dogs are in a half-circle of baskets around the hearth, and I'm bundled in turtleneck, fleece vest, and fleece jacket, lamb's wool slippers and wool socks, and only my nose is chilly.
Winter starts in earnest now and the challenge will be to stay warm until the middle of February, when spring starts here. I have a good pile of wood, thermal curtains also partition the house in half, and I focus on keeping the living room heated. In the bedroom I have down duvets with cats liberally distributed over them at night, so I tend to get too warm rather than cold. These stone houses are chilly, though, and it gets hard to get out of bed in the dark at 4 am on workday mornings.
Christmas is coming. I still get nostalgic for it. The Christmas cactus is blooming. I'm having a little celebration at work on Christmas Eve (despite some snide remarks from the more bigoted secretaries who still don't like the idea that I'm not Jewish). I got an almond cake from Berlin but also kosher cakes from a local bakery, and fruit and hot tea and hot apple cider. Tinsel for the library, and a little Christmas tree for the table, bought in a Russian shop. My sister sent a box of gifts which I'm saving until then to put under the little tree.
My Greenland Inuit cousins got the package I sent them in time for Christmas. They now have what is probably the only kiddush cup in Greenland, along with a few other local curiosities. To my surprise they recognzied the checked keffiyahs I sent as wrapping; it seems even in the Arctic the keffiyah was a fashion statement during the last decades. Talk about advertising!
I'll work a good bit of the next two weeks, but taking Christmas Day off to visit friends who are celebrating in both the Irish and the Slovak style. A trip to the spa, a good dinner, and it's enough holiday for me.
Work this time of year is a matter of steady plugging along. A manuscript is nearing completion for publication, and we are gearing up for the spring's field work and the new grant. My English colleague Bob Bunce, and his wife Freda, will be coming for a week in spring to see our landscapes more carefully. (Also to see flowers and birds at a time when the Lake District where they live is still bogged down in winter. We showed them paradise on earth when they were here the last time, and they want to see more of it. Israel in April is the Garden of Eden, even if it is mud or dust the rest of the year.) Our project is centered on habitat mapping, so we can justify a run from the forests of Galilee to the extreme deserts around Eilat.
Well, the cold is getting into my bones despite the woodstove, so I'm going to creep off to bed and cuddle with the critters and my pipe over a good book. Winter nights have their pleasures; feeling snug only works when outside it is cold and miserable. Even the stray cats I feed outside are bunked down in a dry cave out of the rain, so it's a strong hint that I should seek my cave as well.
g'night
Linda
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http://shabbat-shalom-jerusalem.blogspot.com/
http://shabbat-shalom-jerusalem.blogspot.com/
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