Its time for the perinial Ordeal of the Dead Bird! Yay!

Ah yes.  It's that time of year again.  The Holiday Season.

Bah.

Humbug.

Piffle and Balderdash and Rubbish!

If you can't tell from the above, this isn't exactly my favorite time of the year.  In fact, with the exception of Hallmark's favorite - Valentine's Day - I can't think of any holidays that I loath quite so much as Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Now don't get me wrong.  As a small child, I loved Christmas.  The lights, the brightly wrapped presents, the tree, and all the decorations and trimmings - they were Important to me in a way that such superficial nonsense can only be Important to the very young, or the very ignorant.

Something to keep in mind though, is that when I was a small child, stores didn't start putting up Christmas decorations, or playing incessant Christmas music, until December 1st or later.  The family didn't even start pulling down the Christmas tree and decorations until at least a couple of days after Thanksgiving.

It certainly wasn't already on prominent display in the stores before Halloween was even finished, and the left over candy had gone on sale.  There were Turkeys everywhere for the entire month of November, to remind us that Thanksgiving was at the end of the month - but you didn't see a fat guy in a poorly tailored red suit, with ZZTop-esqe beard until after December had officially begun.

Now as an adult, I've had to admit that even as a child, I dreaded Thanksgiving.  My grandmother, The Bat, always made that particular holiday more of a trial by fire than a relaxing family get-together.  I've ranted about it at length in prior posts.

Thankfully, The Bat is not a concern this year, as she has rather conveniently absented herself from my life again since mid-March.  The peace of not having to deal with her has been truly blessed.

I can't say that I enjoy the holiday to any greater extent though.  Mostly because I've spent a lot of time over the past couple of years studying holiday origins for some of the more uniquely American holidays that I grew up celebrating as a matter of course.

Thanksgiving has its roots in the late 16th and early 17 century, while the upper North Eastern US was still budding colonies of northern European origin.  The colonials were almost exclusively Christians of some stripe (there weren't as many stripes to that particular zebra back then - only Catholic and Protestant, not 17 gazilllion protestant offshoots of various names.) 


I haven't been big on most of the Abrahamic holidays - or the various enforced, Commercialized, Abrahamic Christian versions fed up to Americans  - for a long time.   Frankly, I'm a huge proponent of the concept that Freedom Of Religion - also means (or at least implies) Freedom FROM Religion.

Thanksgiving is an inherently American Christian holiday.  While I'm very much an American by birth and blood, I'm not a Christian and haven't been since I was old enough and educated enough to actually make a conscious Choice rather than simply going with what I'd been told I should  believe, growing up. This being such an inherently Christian holiday, what incentive do I have to even Acknowledge it, much less Celebrate it? 

Oh wait - I Don't. 

I did my harvest celebrating at Samhain (that's Halloween for all you conventional Christian types) and Yule won't happen until the Winter Solstice - and bears little resemblance to Christmas.  As far as I'm concerned, Thanksgiving is simply another of those stupid days when I can't get anything done outside the house, because the rest of you lot wanted an excuse to take a couple extra days off.

It's the most wonderful time... eh, who am I kidding?

That's right boys and girls, it's that time of the year again.  It's the holiday season, the end of the year and nearly time to turn the calendars to a new number.  It's currently the day after Christmas (Yule, technically was the Friday prior - which is what I personally celebrate.)  And yes, it's time for that annual review of how things have gone, what I hope to change in the coming 12 months, etc ad nauseum that most folks refer to as New Year's Resolutions.

Personally, the only resolution I've ever managed to keep with any sort of strength or staying power was the resolution that I made several years ago not to make any more New Year's Resolutions.  I think I'll continue to make that one last - I'm not Making any Resolutions.

So, what about the year in review?  Let's face it, 2012 SUCKED.  It stank with the rankness of Limburger paired with old gym socks and toxic diapers from a toddler.  I've spent the better portion of 2012 sick as a dog, with my Lupus flaring to the point that I've frequently wished I could simply go to sleep and not wake up again.  This year has given me fresh insight into why my mother spent the last 3 to 5 years of her life praying daily for death to come take her, so that she could quit being in constant pain.  While things have nominally improved since my appointment with the Rheumatologist during the beginning of this  month, they are no where near the point that they should be, and don't look likely to improve sufficiently for me to declare myself "well" again any time in the near future.

This past 12 months has seen some major stressers happen in my life.  I lost the family home to property tax crap.  Ah property taxes - that legal extortion from the government which says "Yes, we know you've already bought and paid for this, and that you own it - but you'll pay us each year for the privilege of Using what you own or we'll steal it from you!"  And so the nightmare began on finding a new place to live, which culminated in me moving in with my boyfriend and his two room mates. 

Yeah... about Room mates... there's a Reason that I much prefer to live Alone when I can.  Frankly, I've come to the conclusion that much of the continued stress which caused my major flare back in late August/ early September was due to the stress of putting up with those room mates.  Don't get me wrong.  She's nice enough, and even tolerable a good 85% of the time (at least before she quit work due to maternity leave, which she never went back to prior to them moving.)  Her other half, whom I still refer to as TweedleDum the greatest part of the time, was a different story.  I'm not going to go into it further than that, because I don't want my blood pressure spiking and going through the roof - let's simply suffice it to say that he was a PITA, and not of the pleasant variety.  Of course, them moving out to leave state and live with her family hasn't really put a Stop to the stress that they were part of.  She owned the house that J and I still live in - only it's been in foreclosure for the majority of the time I've known them - and the foreclosure finalized within days of her and her S.O. moving. 

Which means...........

That's right, I'm back in house hunting mode, and have been since the beginning of this month.  Currently it looks like J and I will have until about this time next month to find a place, get utilities set up, and get moved.  Assuming Fannie Mae (the current owner of the property, since they bought it back at the foreclosure auction) doesn't decide to kick us out right after New Year.

So twice in 6 months I find myself effectively homeless and wondering where I'm going to find a roof to keep over my head.  We aren't completely out of options just yet, but that point is rapidly approaching, and I'd rather not find myself living out of my car.  (Yeah, the one truly Good thing that happened this year - I managed to get my driver's license reinstated and get a car.  Which means that the fiasco of having dealt with Matthew the Loser is finally completely over and done with.)

A few other "good" things have happened this year.  After all, even the worst  year generally has Something good to be remembered.  On that side of the scale is my car, getting my license back, being able to go to one of the major SCA events of this kingdom and spend time with my Thunder Family, and a couple of specific friends who have helped maintain my sometimes tenuous grip on sanity. 

That's something for the rest of you to stop and contemplate:  despite everything I've been through in my life, I still smile - not because I'm strong, but because I'm utterly batshit crazy.  That should scare you.

Ah well, in only a few days, the calendar will change to a new set of months, and we'll see what sort of lemonaid I end up making with next year's batch of problems.

A Rose by Any Other Name

So it's Easter, another of those usurped pagan holidays which the Roman Catholic church decided to make it's own in order to make Christianity more palatable to their various converts.

Eggs, a millenniums old symbol of eternal life always renewing itself, have been decorated since long before an insignificant Bedouin tribe left off it's wandering to follow their goat herds and settle in the Sinai valley.  They were considered sacred to various of the mother goddess figures of several cultures, ranging from Isis of the Egyptians to Ishtar of the Babylonians to Ostara of the Norse. 

Rabbits, with their excruciatingly quick reproductive cycle, are another of those ancient pagan symbols of fertility and renewal which were held to be sacred to various mother goddess types.

The Spring festivals associated with the various goddesses always fell around the Vernal (spring) Equinox - which just happens to also coincide with the Judaic Pasch (Passover) celebration commemorating the Israelis leaving slavery in Egypt. 

Is it any wonder, really, that Ramses II was reluctant to allow the Israelis to migrate at that point?  The floods had passed and spring planting was about to get under way.  Losing a good half of your work force right at that point, in an agrarian culture, is disastrous in and of itself.  Forget plagues, etc - just the lack of manpower to till the fields and sow that year's crop is going to almost certainly guarantee Famine come harvest time - when you'll need that same work force to get the spring planted crops in from the fields and into the grain silos.  No ruler in his right mind is going to willingly let go of a free (slave) labor force large enough to keep his entire country fed for the following year in those circumstances.  He (or she) would be extremely unwise to even Consider allowing it. 

So, jump ahead a couple hundred years and several generations, and you get to one Joshua Ben Joseph, more commonly called Jesus of Nazareth.  Typical Jew, in town to celebrate the Passover with all his Jewish buddies, like all good Jews did at the time (and still do, I'm assuming, since I've never put a lot of time into studying Judaism but it's a marked holiday on the calendar.)  He gets whacked, his followers - all good Jews - continue to observe the Jewish high holy days of Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread - for a couple hundred More years. 

By then, the Church has gained acceptance as something other than a minor (and somewhat heretical) Jewish sect, gained Political power, and is nearing the point when it's going to start forcibly converting "barbarians" and "heathens" who happen to Not follow this originally minor desert tribal god.  Go a few more years, and they're taking over the still celebrated holidays of their converts, renaming them, attaching their own religious significance to those dates in the form of feasts for various revered church elders (saints) and ignoring the fact that "their" holiday is not "theirs" at all - but a completely pagan celebration which the founders of their religion considered to be abominable, detestable, and completely no-go for celebrating. 

After all, if you follow Only One God - who is supposed to be THE ONLY god - what are you doing taking part in celebrations which, through the centuries, were specifically to venerate and pay homage to OLDER gods, And Goddesses??  It doesn't matter how much you attempt to place your own significance on the celebration - not when you retain the rights of other deities, and simply stick a new name on them.  Remember Shakespeare?  "A Rose by any other name... " etc? 

It's That Time of Year Again

Yes, that's right.  I've been at this long enough now for it to have come again.  Just like it did last year.  And the year before that.  And yes, every year prior to those, as well.

It's that time.  Time for the Ordeal of the Dead Bird, more conventionally known as Thanksgiving.  It's that weird American holiday that traditionally celebrates Gluttony, Sloth, Envy, and Theft.  Yes, I know.  It's Supposedly about things Other than that.  But let's be honest amongst ourselves, shan't we?   Overindulgence in food, lazing around to watch Football, Trying to 1 up our siblings on the year's achievements, and the arrival of land stealing, resource destroying, pollution mongering,  genocidal assholes (and those are just the European's GOOD points!) onto this continent are what it's all about no matter how much people might spout otherwise.

I detest Thanksgiving as a holiday, generally speaking.  Dealing with my relatives is never a celebration.  (Thankfully, this year, there are so few of them left as to render the whole familial line obsolete!)  Dealing with the shopping frenzy of Black Friday, when one works in the retail arena, is even Less cause to celebrate.  This is the first year that I've been able to tolerate Football (and I'm still trying to figure out how my current boyfriend managed to get me to watch - much less Enjoy - a sport that I've despised since prior to graduating high school) so I'm not exactly primed to be excited about the game.

Ah well.  At least I'm not the one doing the cooking this year.  Boyfriend and his room mates are doing that, and I'll simply be enjoying the fruits of their culinary labors.  (Always a treat, considering what an incredible cook the man is.  His roomies, not so much, but both roomies are at least adequate in the kitchen, so I am not forseeing any disasters.)

Being Thankful

While I was growing up, my family always had Everyone get together at my grandparents house to stuff themselves into a Triptophan overload for Thanksgiving.  My parents, both sets of grandparents, idiot brother, assorted aunts and uncles of my grandparents' generation on my mom's side, various 1st, 2nd, and 3rd cousins of both my parents' and my own generations on my mom's side, and whoever both my idiot brother and myself were dating at the time once we were old enough to date.  On any given holiday, there would be from 12 to 30 people stuffed into my grandparents' home to make merry, catch up on familial gossip, act like they hadn't just seen each other a couple of weeks before that when everyone got together for a sunday afternoon harass the kids after church family "dinner," and of course pretend they actually Liked each other.

The spread of food was always both enormous and impressive, and sufficient to have fed entire regions in some starving African countries.  There were never leftovers, considering how my assorted kinfolk tended to descend on a laden feast table like vultures.  The forced merriment, and the accompanying guilt trips ladled out by my grandmother to any who failed to show up, or failed to eat what she considered a "proper" amount for the Massive effort put into laying out the impressively spread table, left an impression on me that I doubt I will ever forget, even should I live another 1000 years.

By the time I was in my early 20s, and had my first child, I was looking for legitimate excuses to avoid these enforced familial gatherings like the plague they were.

Things have changed in the intervening years though.  My mother and her father are both deceased, as are several of the aunts and uncles on that side of the family.  My younger sister is deceased and never had any children.  Dad's folks are both deceased.  Dad is terminally ill and living out his few remaining days in a skilled nursing facility.  My idiot brother has learned to stay far Far away from me, lest he end up in a grave himself, since I determined long ago that should he show himself, I would shoot first and not bother to stop and ask questions for the sake of my own life and safety.  (What else can you do, when dealing with a sibling who has made attempts on your life in the past?)  My various cousins have scattered to the four corners of the globe, and few of them have any interest in ever returning to the hellhole that is Oklahoma where we all grew up.  One of my children has been completely out of my life for the past 5 1/2 years living with her father, who has no intention of ever allowing me back into her life.  The older one lives with the guilt tripping grandmother whose home childhood holidays were held in, and I avoid that sole remaining grandparent (and her toxicity to anyone with the least modicum of sanity remaining to them) vehemently.

So where does that leave me for the various nationally recognized holidays of primarily Abrahamic origins?

Typically, it leaves me in PEACE and blessed, beautiful, wonderful Quiet.  I rarely ever bother with a Turkey for Thanksgiving, simply because it would be ludicrous for me to cook a 10 lb bird just for myself.  Instead, I'll either cook a duck (if I'm going to have other "foundlings" for company) or I'll make a pizza or something of that nature.

I have to admit though, this year I do have a few things that I'm actually thankful for.  Beyond not having to face the Ordeal of the Dead Bird with my various now parted and scattered family members, that is.

For the first time in 2 decades, I am back in the workforce rather than being a stay at home caregiver for some disabled family member.  I'm finally digging myself out the hole that has been slowly but surely growing since dad had his stroke a few years ago.  I've managed to weed the obnoxious, the users, abusers, and losers out of my life and off my list of people whom I mistakenly considered Friends.  For the first time in almost as long, I'm in a relationship with a man who is Not a self absorbed control freak with hidden misogynist attitudes and no self esteem - I finally managed to get one of the good guys, and he's pretty much the exact Opposite of the type of guy who was in my last 6 or 7 relationships.

Things are finally looking up, and actually Staying up, rather than looking up for a few days and then plummeting to new depths of nasty.  I think I like it this way.