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Showing posts with label weather folklore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weather folklore. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Covid Journal, Day 342: Ember Days

39 and sunny this morning. Rain expected in the afternoon.

What a difference a day or two makes. Sunday was bone-chilling cold, 5 degrees in the morning. Today it's a balmy 39 and the sun is shining. Yesterday was sunny too, and most of the snow, and all of the ice, is gone. The flat is still snow-covered, as it is northeast-facing, and so is the hilly part of our driveway, but there is a feel of spring in the air. I need to get out and rake the leaves from my flower beds to see if any brave bulbs have dared to push through yet. Last year, I think we had daffodils blooming now, or within a week? That won't be happening this year for sure. But that's okay. All things, in their time.

Today is the start of Ember Days, as my friend Sherrell reminded us this morning on Facebook. Ember days, according to the Old Farmer's Almanac are three days around the beginning of each season to mark the change. For the current Ember Days, the almanac says, "Spring: the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday after Ash Wednesday, to give thanks for the rebirth of nature and for the gift of light (usually flowers are offered at this time)." 

Summer, by the studio of Sebastiaan Vrancx (1573–1647). From Wikipedia Summer ember days were days of hard work, and still are for most farmers.
 

The Ember Days for the rest of the year are, according to the almanac:

Summer: Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday after Pentecost, to give thanks for the wheat crop.

Fall: the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday after the Feast of the Holy Cross (September 14),  to give thanks for the grape harvest.

Winter: the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday after the Feast of St. Lucy (December 13), during the third week of Advent, to give thanks for the olive crop.

Wikipedia offers the following rhymes as mnenonics: 

Fasting days and Emberings be
Lent, Whitsun, Holyrood, and Lucie.

"Lenty, Penty, Crucy, Lucy" is a shorter mnemonic for when they fall.

Folklore has it that the weather of these three days will foretell the weather for next 3 months. So if today is any indication, it should be a beautiful Spring. 


A diagram of the Ember Days in a manuscript made at Thorney Abbey, c. 1110

These days were designated as fasting days by the Catholic Church in the 3rd century. The dates were loosely tied to those of the solstices and equinoxes, and some believe--me included--that ember days were another of the Church's ways of slowly pulling people away from the old pagan rituals connected to these important dates. Consider Christmas, for example. So many of the old ways are woven into traditional Christian celebrations today--the tree, the greenery, etc--that the origins of those traditions are forgotten.

Some also believe that Ember Days evolved from old Roman observances. According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, "The Romans were originally given to agriculture, and their native gods belonged to the same class. At the beginning of the time for seeding and harvesting religious ceremonies were performed to implore the help of their deities: in June for a bountiful harvest, in September for a rich vintage, and in December for the seeding.'

According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the word ember derives from "Middle English eymere, from Old Norse eimyrja; akin to Old English ǣmerge ashes, Latin urere to burn." One source noted that ashes were often scattered on people's heads on holy days like these, so perhaps the custom of Ash Wednesday is also tied to ember days.

I remember my neighbors here in Appalachia saying that ember days were good days to burn brush. If that is true, then we have a big job ahead of us as we clean up the downed branches from the ice and snow storms of last week.

Sources: 



Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Sunday, February 21, 2021

Words on Ice

5 degrees and clear this morning.


It's cold. Really cold. Icy cold. Blue-cold. Some friends are reporting below zero temperatures, so I am feeling grateful for our 5 above this morning. Which to Celsius friends, is about -15. Brrrr--that sounds so much colder.

Ice, it seems has always inspired poets, writers, thinkers, and the superstitious. So I thought this morning would be a good time to share some frozen words, so to speak. Like this one by Robert Frost:

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost

This work by Sara Teasdale isn't about ice specifically, but isn't it implied in the words? The frozen pond, the crisp crunchy snow, silver sunlight...

A Winter Bluejay
by Sara Teasdale

Crisply the bright snow whispered,
Crunching beneath our feet;
Behind us as we walked along the parkway,
Our shadows danced,
Fantastic shapes in vivid blue.
Across the lake the skaters
Flew to and fro,
With sharp turns weaving
A frail invisible net.
In ecstasy the earth
Drank the silver sunlight;
In ecstasy the skaters
Drank the wine of speed;
In ecstasy we laughed
Drinking the wine of love.
Had not the music of our joy
Sounded its highest note?
But no,
For suddenly, with lifted eyes you said,
“Oh look!”
There, on the black bough of a snow flecked maple,
Fearless and gay as our love,
A bluejay cocked his crest!
Oh who can tell the range of joy
Or set the bounds of beauty?

-----------------------------------

I love this old English rhyme, a riddle really I suppose.

The wave, over the wave, a weird thing I saw,
through-wrought, and wonderfully ornate:
a wonder on the wave --- water become bone.


Then I think of all the ways we speak of ice in everyday phrases:
  • hands like ice
  • the icy hand of Death
  • ice-cold
  • tip of the iceberg
  • walking on thin ice
  • break the ice--or at gatherings, ice-breakers
  • cuts no ice with me
  • ice up
  • like a hog on ice
  • when the Devil learns to ice skate
And my favorites, the superstitions:
  • As long as ice hangs from the eaves will the flax hang from the distaff. I need a spinner to explain this one to me. Is it a good thing,or a bad thing? I think it may mean a good thing, meaning there will be a good crop of flax to spin?
  • The Oxford Handbook of Witchcraft In Early Medieval Europe says that the "Little Ice Age" in Europe was caused by witches. From Wikipedia: "One example of the violent scapegoating occurring during the Little Ice Age was the resurgence of witchcraft trials, as argued by Oster (2004) and Behringer (1999). Oster and Behringer argue that this resurgence was brought upon by the climatic decline. Prior to the Little Ice Age, "witchcraft" was considered an insignificant crime and victims were rarely accused.[35] But beginning in the 1380s, just as the Little Ice Age began, European populations began to link magic and weather-making.[35] The first systematic witch hunts began in the 1430s, and by the 1480s it was widely believed that witches should be held accountable for poor weather.[35] Witches were blamed for direct and indirect consequences of the Little Ice Age: livestock epidemics, cows that gave too little milk, late frosts, and unknown diseases."
  • Putting ice cubes on your porch or flushing ice cubes down the toilet will bring snow. Really? I don't think I want to try it. Although, come to think of it, when our power was off last week we did put the icetrays on the porch. And it has snowed a little or a lot every day since. Hmmm.



Meteors, nickel-filled, crystals as fragments
of a solid throne
because of heaven being ice, and shattering
despite some wishes,
I wear topaz for heat, strewn in my iris like straw,
lark's eye wrapped in a wolf skin.

Stay warm, friends. Spring isn't far away, although it's hard to believe at the moment.










Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Covid Journal, Day 234: The Bright Hollow Fog

Warm as can be yesterday, high in the upper 70's. Rain moved in overnight and is still falling today. Temps cooled off too, and will be in the 40's tonight. 


Such a perfect November kind of day, after a couple weeks of abnormally warm weather. Today was rain and fog, dark and dreary. 

The fog, and my cousin John's beautiful post on his blog By Stargoose and Hanglands, made me think about folklore about fog. And, of course, there is. I did not find much particular to the Appalachian region in my searches, although it is often thought that the fogs and mists that rise from our hollows in these mountains are the source of many a ghostly experience. And no wonder, for the fog twisting and winding through trees can easily make one think it was something unworldly, and not just a natural phenomena. 

The only local lore I have heard about fog is that is there is a heavy fog in the morning in spring, there will be no frost. Also, a morning fog in summer means no rain that day. I have found both of these to hold true most of the time. And of course, a misty/foggy ring around the moon means rain on the way--when it will fall depends on how many stars are within the ring. If none, it will rain the next day; if 2, then rain in two days, and so on.

I did find quite a few superstitions about fog and mist, almost all of them weather-related. Which makes sense, right? For example:

If a morning fog rises rapidly, or is there is mist in the air at dawn in winter, rain is on the way.

According to one source, a foggy day was regarded with care because people thought it meant the gods wanted to communicate. Gatherings would be held at sacred places in hopes of receiving these communications. 

A day when the fog hangs around most of the day, like today, was believed in some cultures to mean something good was on the way. I certainly hope this one is right. We could use some good things happening. However, in other places, it was thought to mean that death or some other terrible event was about to take place. 

A foggy morning in a West Virginia state park.

And then, in still other places, it was said that if you were single and met someone on a foggy day, marriage would come of it. That reminds me of the movie we just watched tonight, Return of the Native, based on the book by Thomas Hardy. The book has long been a favorite of mine and I have had a copy on my bookshelves for probably 50 years. In the story, a young man is walking through a heavy fog when a beautiful woman and a white horse appear in front of him--and the woman disappears when a heavy drift of fog momentarily hides her from sight. And yes, the couple does get married. 

Fog off the cost of Inis Mor, Ireland, when we were there in 2017.

And a few more about the weather:

Fog in winter foretells wind and cold.

The number of fogs in August is an indication of the number of snows we'll have in the coming winter.

The following are from the book Weather Lore: A Collection of Proverbs, Sayings and Rules Concerning the Weather, written by Richard Inward in 1898. 

A good hay year, a bad fog year.

Much fog in autumn, much snow in winter.

A winter fog will freeze a dog.

If in winter the barometer rises very high, and a thick fog sets in, it is a sure sign that the south-west and north-east winds are " fighting each other." Neither of them can make head against the other, and there is a calm, but there is great danger of such a state of things being followed by a bad gale.—United States.

Fog in January brings a wet Spring. Fog in February means frosts in May.

There will be as many frosts in June as fogs in February.

Fogs in March, frosts in May.

Fog in March, thunder in July.

As much fog in March, so much rain in summer.

As much dew in March, so much fog rises in August. And fog in August means plenty of snow in January.

Fogs in April foretell a failure of the wheat crop--this one from Alabama.

If the first three days of April be foggy, there will be a flood
in June.

If the first three days in April be foggy.
Rain in June will make the lanes boggy.

Observe on what day in August the first heavy fog occurs, and expect a hard frost on the same day in October. from the US.

In the Mississippi valley, when fogs occur in August, expect fever and ague in the following fall

A very foggy topic! So to finish up, here's a lovely tune, The Bright Hollow Fog, by the group Inis Fail. I confess I'd never heard of them until turning up this video, but I like this. I first heard the tune being played by my friend Jenny Allinder, but don't have a video of her playing it on fiddle with her friend Jim Mullins on guitar, but this version is pretty nice. Enjoy.




Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Sunday, January 5, 2020

January: Thoughts, Folklore, Weather Lore and More

This is the month to settle in to homey things, to cooking, sorting out drawers and cupboards, for cooking up good soups and making plans for the year. I thought this a good time to share some  thoughts by other writers about this time of year. (Photos are from last winter. I'm still hoping for at least one good snow, but so far, nothing but rain and a few flurries.)

"Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire:  it is the time for home."
-  Edith Sitwell

"From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin.
No lady alive can show such a skin.
I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.
Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear,
Yet many poor creatures I help to insnare.
Though so much of Heaven appears in my make,
The foulest impressions I easily take.
My parent and I produce one another,
The mother the daughter, the daughter the mother."
-  James Parton, A Riddle - On Snow

Did you get the answer to the riddle?

And from the website Green Way Research come the following weather sayings, collected by Karen and Mike Garofalo. Do check out their site, it is full of weather and garden wisdom.

A wet January, a wet Spring.

A warm January, a cold May.  (Welsh Proverb)

On New Year's Eve,
wrap a large rock with some rope and hang it from a branch.
One New Year's Morning:

If the rock is dry, good weather will come to stay.
If the rock is wet, rain is on the way.
If the rock is moving, high winds will come at night.
If the rock is white, snow will fall tonight.
If the stone is gone, time for moving on.

The blackest month in all the year
Is the month of Janiveer.

A favorable January brings us a good year.

In Janiveer if the sun appear
March and April pay full dear.

If grain grows in January, there will be a year of great need.

January blossoms fill no man's cellar.



If birds begin to sing in January, frosts will come.

If January kalends be summerly gay,
'Twill be winterly weather to the kalends of May.

Jack Frost in Janiveer, Nips the nose of the nascent year.

If January has never a drop, the barn will need an open prop
If in February there be no rain, it is neither good for hay nor grain.
March damp and warm, will do the farmer much harm.
April cold and wet, fills the barns best yet.
Cold May and windy, barn filleth up finely.

If Saint Paul's Day (1/25) be faire and cleare,
It doth betide a happy yeare;
But if by chance it then should rain,
It will make deare all kinds of graine;
And if ye clouds make dark ye skie,
Then neats and fowles this year shall die;
If blustering winds do blow aloft,
Then wars shall trouble ye realm full oft.



Chambers Book of Days: 
First published in 1864, this monumental work was a huge collection of trivia, articles, and folklore for each day of the year.

This is only a part of his article for this date: (for more, see the website The Book of Days.

TWELVE-DAY EVE

Twelfth-day Eve is a rustic festival in England. Persons engaged in rural employments are, or have heretofore been accustomed to celebrate it; and the purpose appears to be to secure a blessing for the fruits of the earth.

In Herefordshire, at the approach of the evening, the farmers with their friends and servants meet together, and about six o'clock walk out to a field where wheat is growing. In the highest part of the ground, twelve small fires, and one large one, are lighted up. The attendants, headed by the master of the family, pledge the company  when in old cider, which circulates freely on these occasions. A circle is formed round the large fire, when a general shout and hallooing takes place, which you hear answered from all the adjacent villages and fields. Sometimes fifty or sixty of these fires may be all seen at once. This being finished, the company return home, where the good housewife and her maids are preparing a good supper. A large cake is always provided, with a hole in the middle. After supper, the company all attend the bailiff (or head of the oxen) to the wain-house, where the following particulars are observed: The master, at the head of his friends, fills the cup (generally of strong ale), and stands opposite the first or finest of the oxen. He then pledges him in a curious toast: the company follow his example, with all the other oxen, and addressing each by his name. This being finished, the large cake is produced, and, with much ceremony, put on the horn of the first ox, through the hole above mentioned. The ox is then tickled, to make him toss his head: if he throw the cake behind, then it is the mistress's perquisite; if before (in what is termed the boosy), the bailiff himself claims the prize. The company then return to the house, the doors of which they find locked, nor will they be opened till some joyous songs are sung. On their gaining admittance, a scene of mirth and jollity ensues, which lasts the greatest part of the night.' — Gentleman's Magazine, February, 1791. The custom is called in Herefordshire Wassailing. The fires are de-signed to represent the Saviour and his apostles, and it was customary as to one of them, held as representing Judas Iscariot, to allow it to burn a while, and then put it out and kick about the materials.

At Pauntley, in Gloucestershire, the custom has in view the prevention of the smut in wheat. 'All the servants of every farmer assemble in one of the fields that has been sown with wheat. At the end of twelve lands, they make twelve fires in a row with straw; around one of which, made larger than the rest, they drink a cheerful glass of cider to their master's health, and success to the future harvest; then returning home, they feast on cakes made with carraways, soaked in cider, which they claim as a reward for their past labour in sowing the grain.'

'In the south hams [villages] of Devonshire, on the eve of the Epiphany, the farmer, attended by his workmen, with a large pitcher of cider, goes to the orchard, and there encircling one of the best bearing trees, they drink the following toast three several times:

Here's to thee, old apple-tree,
Whence thou mayst bud,
and whence thou mayst blow!
And whence thou mayst bear apples enow!
Hats full! caps full!
Bushel—bushel—sacks full,
And my pockets full too! Huzza!

This done, they return to the house, the doors of which they are sure to find bolted by the females, who, be the weather what it may, are inexorable to all entreaties to open them till some one has guessed at what is on the spit, which is generally some nice little thing, difficult to be hit on, and is the reward of him who first names it. The doors are then thrown open, and the lucky clod-pole receives the tit-bit as his recompense. Some are so superstitious as to believe, that if they neglect this custom, the trees will bear no apples that year.' — Gentleman's Magazine, 1791, p. 403.

OLD ENGLISH PRONUNCIATIONS

The history of the pronunciation of the English language has been little traced. It fully appears that many words have sustained a considerable change of pronunciation during the last four hundred years: it is more particularly marked in the vowel sounds. In the days of Elizabeth, high personages pronounced certain words in the same way as the common people now do in Scotland. For example, the wise Lord Treasurer Burleigh said whan instead of when, and war instead of were; witness a sentence of his own: 'At Enfield, fyndying a dozen in a plump, whan there was no rayne, I bethought myself that they war appointed as watchmen, for the apprehendyng of such as are missyng,' &c.—Letter to Sir Francis Walsingham, 1586. (Collier's Papers to Shakespeare Society.) Sir Thomas Gresham, writing to his patron in behalf of his wife, says: 'I humbly beseech your honour to be a stey and some comfort to her in this my absence.' Finding these men using such forms, we may allowably suppose that much also of their colloquial discourse was of the same homely character.

Lady More, widow of the Lord Chancellor Sir Thomas More, writing to the Secretary Cromwell in 1535, beseeched his 'especial gude maistership, out of his 'abundant gudeness' to consider her case. 'So, bretherne, here is my maister,' occurs in Bishop Lacy's Exeter Pontifical about 1450. These pronunciations are the broad Scotch of the present day.

Tway for two, is another old English pronunciation. 'By whom came the inheritance of the lordship of Burleigh, and other lands, to the value of twai hundred pounds yearly,' says a contemporary life of the illustrious Lord Treasurer. Tway also occurs in Piers Ploughman's Creed in the latter part of the fourteenth century:

Thereon lay a litel chylde lapped in cloutes,
And tweyne of tweie yeres olde,' &c.

So also an old manuscript poem preserved at Cambridge:

'Dame, he seyde, how schalle we deo,
He fayleth twaye tethe also.'

This is the pronunciation of Tweeddale at the present day; while in most parts of Scotland they say twa. Tway is nearer to the German zwei.

A Scotsman, or a North of England man, speaking in his vernacular, never says 'all: 'he says 'a'.' In the old English poem of Havelok, the same form is used:

'He shall haven in his hand
A Denemark and Engeland.'

The Scotsman uses onyx for any:

'Aye keep something to yoursel'
Ye scarcely tell to ony.'

This is old English, as witness Caxton the printer in one of his publishing advertisements issued about 1490: 'If it pies ony man, spirituel or temporel,' &c. An Englishman in those days would say ane for one, even in a prayer:

Thus was Thou aye, and evere salle be,
Thre yn ane, and ane yn thre.'

A couplet, by the way, which gives another Scotch form in sal for shall. He also used among for among, sang for song, faught for fought,

('They faught with Heraud everilk ane.' Guy of Warwick.)

tald for told, fund for found, Bane for gone, and awn for own. The last four occur in the curious verse inscriptions on the frescoes representing scenes in St. Augustine's life in Carlisle Cathedral, and in many other places, as a reference to Halliwell's Dictionary of Archaisms will shew.

In a manuscript form of the making of an abbess, of probably the fifteenth century, mainteyne for maintain, sete for seat, and guere for quire, shew the prevalence at that time in England of pronunciations still retained in Scotland. (Dugdale's Monasticon, i. 437.) Abstain for abstain, persevered down to the time of Elizabeth: 'He that will doo this worke shall absteine from lecherousness and dronkennesse,' &e. Scot's Discoverie of Witchcraft, 1584, where contein also occurs. The form cook for suck, which still prevails in Scotland, occurs in Capgrave's metrical Life of St. Katherine, about 1450.

Ah! Jesa Christ, crown of maidens all,
A maid bare thee, a maid gave thee wok.'

Stree for straw—being very nearly the Scottish pronunciation—occurs in Sir John Mandeville's Travels, of the fourteenth century. Even that peculiarly vicious northern form of shooter for suitor would appear, from a punning passage in Shakespeare, to have formerly prevailed in the south also:

Boyct.—Who is the suitor?
Rosatine.—Well, then, I am the shooter.
                                        Love's Labour Lost

It is to be observed of Shakespeare that he uses fewer old or northern words than some of his contemporaries; yet the remark is often made by Scotsmen, that much of his language, which the commentators explain for English readers, is to them intelligible as their vernacular, so that they are in a condition more readily to appreciate the works of the bard of Avon than even his own countrymen.

The same remark may be made regarding Spenser, and especially with respect to his curious poem of' the Shepherd's Calendar. When he there tells of a ewe, that 'She mought ne gang on the greene,' he uses almost exactly the language that would be employed by a Selkirkshire shepherd, on a like occasion, at thepresent day. So also when Thenot says: 'Tell me, good Hobbinol, what gars thee greete ? ' he speaks pure Scotch. In this poem, Spenser also uses tinny for two, gait for goat, mickle for much, wark for work, wae for woe, ken for know, craig for the neck, warr for worse, hame for home, and teen for sorrow, all of these being Scottish terms.

From that rich well of old English, Wycliffe's translation of the Bible, we learn that in the fourteenth century aboon, stood for above ('Gird abowen with knychtis gyrdill,' 2 Kings iii. 21), nowther was neither, and breed was bread ('Give to us this day oure breed,' &c.), all of these being Scottish pronunciations of the present day.

Wycliffe also uses many words, now obsolete in England, but still used in Scotland, as oker for interest, orison for oration, almery, a press or cupboard, sad for firm or solid, tolbooth, a place to receive taxes ('He seith a man syttynge in a tolbothe, Matheu by name,' Malt. ix. 9); loan for a farm ('The first saide, Y have boucht a toun, and Y have node to go out and se it,' Luke xiv. 19), scarry for precipitous, repo for a handful of corn-straw ('Here's a rip to thy auld baggie.'—Burns. If you were in need of a loan quickly you could get a Titlemax loan. There are car title loans from Titlemax that can help you out in times of need.

'Whanne thou repest corn in the feeld, and forgetist and leeuest a rope, thou schalt not turn agen to take it,' Deut. xxiv. 19), forleit for left altogether. The last, a term which every boy in Scotland applies to the forsaking of a nest by the bird, was used on a remarkable public occasion to describe the act of James II. in leaving his country. 'Others,' says Sir George Mackenzie, 'were for declaring that the king had forleited the kingdom.'


The differences of pronunciation which now exist between the current English and cognate languages chiefly lie in the vowel sounds. The English have flattened down the broad A in a vast number of cases, and played a curious legerdemain with E and I, while other nations have in these particulars made no change. It seems to have been a process of refinement, or what was thought to be such, in accordance with the advancing conditions of domestic life in a country on the whole singularly fortunate in all the circumstances that favour civilization. Whether there is a real improvement in the case may be doubted; that it is a deterioration would scarcely be asserted in any quarter. Even those, however, who take the most favourable view of it, must regret that the change should have extended to the pronunciation of Greek and Latin. To introduce the flat A for the broad one, and interchange the sounds of E and I, in these ancient languages, must be pronounced as an utterly unwarrantable interference with something not our own to deal with—it is like one author making alterations in the writings of another, an act which justice and good taste alike condemn.

For an interesting look at festivals and other January events in the UK, check out Historic UK



Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Red Sky at Night

Last night's sunset was gorgeous, with such deep color. A good harbinger for today, and that promise came true as the day has begun with clear skies and sunshine.



I'm off to tell stories again this evening in Moundsville, WV with my Celtic story partner Judi Tarowsky. It looks to be a perfect day for a drive north along the Ohio River.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Stories and Folklore on Ice

With cold weather breathing down our necks again, I got to thinking about ice.

I've dealt with a lot of ice in the last few weeks. Larry is usually the go-to man for such things but with his new knee still healing up, I've been out and about a lot more than usual as I take care of outside chores. I don't mind, and I am sure to put those Yak Trax  ice cleats on my boots, but I have to say, I will be glad to have my man back on the job.

Our driveway was basically a skating rink at the end near the house. Lots of rain followed by freezing temperatures made sure the water was ice in no time at all. Lots of ice. Ice many inches thick in places. Then there was the usual ice on walks, on puddles, and well, pretty much everywhere. I broke up what I could with a mattock, spread sand and wood ash on walks and the worst places on the driveway. And then waited for the thaw, which came late last week.

And now, looks like more ice is on the way and this next weather wave will start with wind and rain before turnng abruptly to snow and below zero temps. Ah me.

But with all that said, I must admit ice holds a fascinating beauty. Like these photos, for example:

This first one was taken by my storytelling friend Gwyn Calvetti, who lives in Minnesota where sub-zero weather is a common winter occurrence. This is a soap bubble, blown in these cold temperatures--it freezes almost immediately and just look at the beauty created!


My sister Juianne Estes often hikes in Shenandoah National Park, and this past weekend took photos of the beautiful ice formations she saw during her hike, like these:



I remember when Jack Frost visited our windows in my childhood home. We don't see that phenonemon these days, but every now and again we might see something pretty on the car windows:


Then there are icicles, admittedly potentially dangerous, but still full of beauty:



Earlier this winter we got to see ice flowers for the first time, and now that I know why they form, I know when and where to look for them in the future.


Of course, ice can bring destruction too, as happened here in the 2003 ice storm--an event I will never forget and hope to never experience again. But never say never, right?



And then there are icy superstitions and weather lore:

Corona: “If a circle forms ‘round the moon,‘Twill rain soon.” The circle that forms around the sun or moon is called a halo. Halos are formed by the light from the sun or moon refracting (bending) as they pass through the ice crystals that form high-level cirrus and cirrostratus clouds. These clouds do not produce rain or snow, but they often precede an advancing low pressure system which may bring bad weather. (from National Park Service's education page.)

Ice in November to walk a duck, the winter will be all rain and muck.

If at Christmas, ice hangs on the willow, then clover may be cut at Easter.

If ice will bear a man at Christmas, it will not bear a mouse afterward.

As long as icicles hang from the roof in winter, so long will flax hang from the distaff.

To be caught in a hailstom is a sign your friends are growing cold

Take a meat chopper outside and cut the ground to frighten off a hailstorm.

This tale comes from Australia:

"An aboriginal myth says that frost comes from the seven stars of the Pleiades, also called the Seven Sisters. The sisters once lived on Earth but were so cold they sparkled with icicles. They flew up into the sky and once each year they pull off their icicles and hurl them down to Earth."

Icy riddles too:

I have no taste,
I have no smell,
You can see right through me,
and can not tell

Lives in winter
dies in summer
grows with its roots upward.

An Anglo-Saxon riddle from the book of Exeter Riddles, circa 960-980 AD). This is riddle #6.

A thing came marvelously     moving over the waves,
comely from the keel up.     It called out to the land,
loudly resounding.     Its laughter was horrible,
awful in its place.     Its edges were sharp;
hateful it was,     and sluggish to battle,
bitter in its hostile deeds.     It dug into shield-walls,
hard, ravaging.     It spread mischievous spells.
It spoke with cunning craft     about its creation:
“Dearest of women     is indeed my mother;
she is my daughter     grown big and strong.
It is known to men of old,     among all people,
that she shall stand up beautifully     everywhere in the world.”



A famous riddle tells the story of a person (sometimes male, in other versions female) who is found murdered in their bed with many stab wounds. The victim and the bed are soaking wet, and on the nightstand is a glass of bloody water. What was the murder weapon?

Why are there sometimes ripples on icicles? Inside Science has the answer!

There is a lot more science about icicles on this sites:

How do icicles form? an article from LiveScience.

Icicle shapes discussed at Inside Science.


With its transformative powers, it is small wonder that ice sometimes appears in folktales and legends. The Snow Queen is probably one of the best known, and was the basis for Disney's Frozen.

Icicle Woman is a haunting (and kinda bloody) ghost story from Japan.

A funny Cajun tale about a unique way to retrieve an axe!

How Davy Crockett saved us from The Frozen Dawn.

Enough about ice! Now I need something warm to drink! Coffee, anyone? But not iced, at least this time.



Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Thunderation!

Rain, wind, hail, thunder and lightning in the middle of the night. Quite a wake-up! No wonder Daisy the yellow lab wanted to stay in the house last night. She seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to weather


Thunder in winter, according to old wives' tales, can mean:

*snow within 7-10 days

*a colder than usual February

*frost in April or May

*a summer drought

*cold weather is on the way


Pic from 2007, cabin on Joe's Run

So, take your pick--I prefer the snow within 7-10 days over late frost or drought anytime.

When I stepped out on the porch at 5 a.m., it was clear as a bell and the stars looked so close. But in the distance I could hear traffic on the interstate 15 miles away, a sure sign of rain here. Usually. Or maybe I'm making up another old wives' tale?




Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Friday, December 22, 2017

Happy Winter!

Happy Winter, my northern hemisphere friends! Like it or not, the season is officially here. If you are wondering what to expect weather-wise, there is plenty of advice and caution out there in folklore-land.

Here are 10 examples:

If October is warm, February will be very cold. Check.

Neighbor's cattle

The closer the new moon is to Christmas Day, the colder the winter will be. New moon was Wednesday, so kinda close...

If there was a big berry crop, the winter will be cold. Berries did very well in our area this past summer.

A heavy mast means a bad winter ahead. Check--the acorns were thick on the ground this fall.

What kind of weather did you have on October 9? Sunny=cold, hard, winter. Rainy=mild winter. I can't remember for sure, but I believe it was sunny here.

Ancient texts reported the belief that the weather for the entire year was settled during the twelve days between winter solstice and New Year's Day. During that time, the sages said, earth rested and laid the groundwork for the coming year.

When leaves fall early, winter will be mild. When leave fall late, winter will be severe. They fell late here, that's for sure.

A warm November is a sign of a bad winter. Very warm, it was.

If there is thunder during Christmas week, the weather will be anything but meek. We shall see!

If the first snow falls on unfrozen ground, winter will be mild. Our first snow was on unfrozen ground, so this is a good sign!

a cabin along my road


If a cold August follows a hot July, winter will be cold and dry. Can't say this was true this year; the weather both months was not as hot as usual.

So, what does this portend for you? And the most pressing question: do any of these outweigh the others in importance/significance? Most of the signs for my area point to a bad winter, but there are a few favorable to mild weather.

And of course, the old sayings did not take global warming into account. Perhaps we will need to come up with some predictions of our own now?

Since I like winter and its snow and cold, I'm happy with whatever comes. We can't change it, so the best thing is to hunker down and enjoy the season of quiet and rebirth. And watch to see if the old ones knew what they were talking about!
My house in winter

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Will It Rain for 40 days? Saint Swithin's Day and Other Weather Lore

Happy Saint Swithun's (or Swithin's) Day!

I've just been reading about St. Swithun at the A Clerk of Oxford's site. I didn't know much about Swithin, except this rhyme:

St. Swithin, from Wikipedia
St Swithun's day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St Swithun's day if thou be fair
For forty days 'twill rain nae mare

Oh dear. It dawned fair here, but there were some showers last night. Were they finished before midnight? I don't know. I'd like to have a nice balance of rain and fair, please, Saint Swithin! But how would one do that, given the words of the proverb.

another English rhyming proverb about rain says

The rainbow in the morning
Is the shepherd’s warning
To carry his coat on his back;
The rainbow at night
Is the shepherd’s delight
For then no coat will he lack.

And from Scotland, there is this:
The weather’s taking up now
For yonder’s the weather gaw;
How bonny is the east now!
Now the colors fade awa’.”

Decipher that for me?  This one is more clear to my Western brain:

from wikimedia
If the robin sings in the bush,
Then the weather will be coarse;
If the robin sings on the barn,
Then the weather will be warm.

The wind plays a role in weather we will have rain or not, apparently, so take heed:

James Gillray, c1808

The west wind always brings wet weather,
The east wind cold and wet together,
The south wind surely brings us rain,
The north wind blows it back again.

Whatever the weather, we will have it, whether or no, that's for certain. It looks to be a fair St. Swithin's Day here, and perhaps the grass will dry enough to be mowed this evening. In the meantime, there is a pile of cabbages waiting on me today, so I'll be inside anyway.







Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Thursday, February 2, 2017

Solmonath

 Yesterday was Candlemas day, the day when, in times past, the candles to be used in church throughout the year were brought to the altar to be blessed.

It marks another important milestone too: the halfway point of winter. Weatherlore says that

"if Candlemas Day be clear and fine, the rest of winter is left behind;
If Candlemas Day be rough and grum, there's more of winter left to come."

So far we've had a mix of both, with sun, clouds, wind, showers, and cold. I wonder what that portends? I'm betting on a late spring, myself.
February is the month of purification, according to old Roman traditions. A time to cleanse, expiate, and be ready for the coming year. In their calendar, February was actually the last month of the year, the new year beginning with the coming of March. Which makes sense in a way; March is when new growth starts and spring arrives, while January is still locked in the cold death of winter.

The old pre-Roman British calendar called this month Sol-monath, or “mud month,” and in West Virginia that is certainly an apt name. February often brings us freezes and thaws, days of unseasonable warmth mixed with days of bitter cold as winter’s grip almost imperceptibly weakens. I remember my first years on my farm and the mud that was so deep vehicles could not make it through our road, and we often walked as much as half a mile, hauling in groceries and feed. There was no problem keeping fit in those days! February was also called Kale-monath in old Britain, since this was the month that kale and cabbage seeds would sprout.

If you are lucky and have them in your gardens, you will see the little white snowdrops bloom this month. I have never been lucky enough to have them here; mine are the ones that are tall and bloom after the daffodils. According to legend, the snowdrop appeared after Adam and Eve were thrown out of Eden. Eve longed for the end of the cold weather, and just when it seemed winter would never end, an angel changed some of the falling snow into the little white flowers we call snowdrops, and gave Eve renewed hope that warmer weather would soon return.

Some believe that the snowdrop will always bloom on Candlemas day, or February 2. In America we celebrate the lowly groundhog on this date, but in Britain it was traditionally the day when all the candles to be used in the churches that year were blessed in a special ceremony.

Those of us who search for indications of the weather trends for planting can watch for signs in February that will help our predictions. For example, thunder in February means frost in May. If your cat sleeps out in the sun in February, she’ll be finding a warm spot behind the stove in March. Cold and snow in February is good news for spring weather, but a fair February is not a good sign.  

A strange story for this month is an event that occurred in England about 150 years ago. There was a heavy snowfall on February 8th that blanketed most of the country. When people went outside they were surprised to find thousands of footprints in the new-fallen snow—footprints shaped like a cloven hoof. The prints went on for miles, and no one ever discovered where they led, or who or what had made them. The event remains a mystery to this day.

Personally, I am hoping for some snow in February. I like to see the ground blanketed in white while I sit inside my warm house and make my lists of seeds to buy for the coming garden season. I like pulling my rocker up in front of the fireplace to enjoy its comfort a few more times before the doors and windows open and our activity moves out-of-doors. This is a month to relax and renew, to plan and prepare. Warm weather will be with us soon enough; for now let’s enjoy the beauty and the ability rest while winter blows its last cold breath.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

High on the Hog? In a Pig's Ear

We had pork chops for dinner the other day, and Larry said, "We're eatin' high on the hog tonight!" Which got me to thinking about all the ways we refer to hogs or pigs to describe behavior, feelings, and other aspects of our life.


Eat like a pig: if you have ever watched a pig eat, you need no explanation! They are messy, selfish and outright belligerent at the feed trough, pushing each other out of the way, putting their feet in the trough and splashing their mash everywhere. 



The best meat on a hog is, in most opinions, the tenderloin. Which is high on the hog, running along both sides of the spine. Some people cut it into butterfly steaks, others cut it. along with the bone, into pork chops.  So if you're eating high on the hog, you're eating the very best.


Hog-tied: People sometimes tied all four feet of an animal's feet together to subdue the animal. It's unkind for sure. It rendered the animal helpless, and so now when we use the term, that's exactly what we mean. "I couldn't do a thing about it, he had me hogtied!" 


Sweating like a pig: this one is a bit puzzling, since pigs don't actually sweat. That's why they need wallows to keep cool.An alternative explanation for this term is that it refers to the iron-smelting process. Wikipedia can explain it better than I can:

"Pig iron is the intermediate product of smelting iron ore. It is the molten iron from the blast furnace, which is a large and cylinder-shaped furnace charged with iron ore, coke, and limestone. Charcoal and anthracite have also been used as fuel. Pig iron has a very high carbon content, typically 3.5–4.5%,[1] along with silica and other constituents of dross, which makes it very brittle and not useful directly as a material except for limited applications. The traditional shape of the molds used for pig iron ingots was a branching structure formed in sand, with many individual ingots at right angles[2] to a central channel or runner, resembling a litter of piglets being suckled by a sow. When the metal had cooled and hardened, the smaller ingots (the pigs) were simply broken from the runner (the sow), hence the name pig iron.[3] As pig iron is intended for remelting, the uneven size of the ingots and the inclusion of small amounts of sand caused only insignificant problems considering the ease of casting and handling them." Apparently these little "pigs" could lose moisture during processing.

Pig in a poke: A poke, as you probably know, is a bag or sack. So if you're buying a pig in a poke, you're buying something sight unseen--you're taking a chance on an unknown quantity. 

Throwing pearls to swine: Another self-explanatory term, I think! Pigs would eat those pearls, definitely, and not even blink. Except maybe Babe or Miss Piggie. They might actually appreciate the finer things in life. This one has biblical roots, from Matthew 7:6, Jesus's Sermon on the Mount: "Do not give what is holy to the dogs; nor cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you in pieces."
In a pig's ear: this one is harder to track down. It means that the likelihood of something happening is pretty remote, as in "I'd vote for him in a pig's ear!" Locally, I have heard that asking for a pig's ear during Prohibition meant you wanted to buy a little whiskey. 

Making a silk purse from a sow's ear: This one is pretty old, dating back to a book written by the English clergyman Stephen Gosson, who published the story Ephemerides in 1579. In one passage he described people trying to do something impossible as "Seekinge too make a silke purse of a Sowes eare." I tend to use the phrase to describe trying to make something look better than it really is.

Road hog: We've all seen them--they take up more than they're share of the road, and don't really seem to care. And if you have seen a hog's behavior at a trough, you understand the resemblance.

Image result for vintage hog public domainHog-wild: When our pigs would get out of their pen, it was all we could do to try to herd them back in. It was almost impossible--they'd run around in all directions, grunting and squealing and literally kicking up their heels. The true wild hogs behave the same way, and are dangerous to boot, unpredictable and very, very fast. 

Hog heaven: a contented pig is a lovely thing. They almost smile as they nestle with their full bellies into their nice soft beds of hay after having a good wallow in the mud. They truly look like they're in hog heaven. So if you're in hog heaven, you're over the moon, on top of the mountain, over the rainbow, etc.

Going whole hog: all in! Like the sausage of the same name, pretty much putting everything you've got (except maybe your squeal?) into something. Like having all your eggs in one basket!

There are probably a lot more. Do you know of any I've missed here? I'd love to hear them!


Pigs can predict the weather too. "A January fog will freeze a hog" means fog in January will late frosts in Spring. If you should see pigs building their nests, or running around with straw or hay in their mouths, look for the weather to turn cold. Squealing pigs mean a change in weather is coming. Scratching their backs on a fence means rain is on the way, but if they're laying in the mud look for a dry spell.  Some people look to the hog's spleen at butchering time to predict the coming winter's weather. 

I'll end today's post with this favorite folktale from Joseph Jacobs:

The Old Woman and Her Pig


An old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked sixpence. “What,” said she, “shall I do with this little sixpence? I will go to market, and buy a little pig.”

As she was coming home, she came to a stile: but the piggy wouldn’t go over the stile.

She went a little further, and she met a dog. So she said to the dog: “Dog! bite pig; piggy won’t go over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the dog wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a stick. So she said: “Stick! stick! beat dog! dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the stick wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a fire. So she said: “Fire! fire! burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the fire wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met some water. So she said: “Water, water! quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the water wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met an ox. So she said: “Ox! ox! drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the ox wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a butcher. So she said: “Butcher! butcher! kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the butcher wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a rope. So she said: “Rope! rope! hang butcher; butcher won’t kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the rope wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a rat. So she said: “Rat! rat! gnaw rope; rope won’t hang butcher; butcher won’t kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the rat wouldn’t.

She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said: “Cat! cat! kill rat; rat won’t gnaw rope; rope won’t hang butcher; butcher won’t kill ox; ox won’t drink water; water won’t quench fire; fire won’t burn stick; stick won’t beat dog; dog won’t bite pig; piggy won’t get over the stile; and I shan’t get home to-night.” But the cat said to her, “If you will go to yonder cow, and fetch me a saucer of milk, I will kill the rat.” So away went the old woman to the cow.

But the cow said to her: “If you will go to yonder hay-stack, and fetch me a handful of hay, I’ll give you the milk.” So away went the old woman to the haystack and she brought the hay to the cow.

As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman the milk; and away she went with it in a saucer to the cat.

As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk, the cat began to kill the rat; the rat began to gnaw the rope; the rope began to hang the butcher; the butcher began to kill the ox; the ox began to drink the water; the water began to quench the fire; the fire began to burn the stick; the stick began to beat the dog; the dog began to bite the pig; the little pig in a fright jumped over the stile, and so the old woman got home that night.

Some days I feel like this little old woman--the faster I go, the behinder I get! Have a great day, all, and check your hogs for their weather predictions.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
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