Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Lammas and the mysterious death of William II


 


      Being neither Solstice nor Equinox, Lughnassad, is a cross quarter day, and therefore a reverse barometer as far as the weather is concerned.

    Known by the Christianized name of Lammas, it is typically celebrated on August 1st, although some traditions adhere to a date closer to the actual cross quarter date which is usually around August 6th.  



    Lammas is the first harvest of the year. It is the time when the grain is ripening. Just take a gander at those golden fields of wheat. However, in modern times other fruits and vegetables are ripening too, no doubt right in your own backyard garden. Peaches, pears, tomatoes, summer squash, lettuce, as well as many other long awaited treats. It is a time when we rejoice in the plenty now available to us before the second and third harvests begin in earnest.



   In Celtic culture, particularly in Ireland, it was the time of year that marriages were arranged. Young people without partners attended gatherings to seek betrothals. These betrothals were for a year and a day, giving the young couples time to determine if this marriage would bring forth offspring and if they were compatible. These handfastings were reported as late as the 15th century.

    In other cultures the first harvest is associated with Goddesses such as Demeter, Ceres, Corn mother and various other agricultural Goddesses such as Baba Yaga. The male counterpart, manifests as Lugh, John Barleycorn, and a variety of other vegetation Gods.

     As we reap the bounty of the Mother Earth we can draw good fortune to ourselves by creating a corn dolly from the first grain to honor the Great Mother. Or, one can bake a cake of the first grains and give a portion of it back to the Earth with thanks for her bounty.

     The day lends itself to agricultural festivals including corn and apple festivals. Additionally, this was historically the time of craft fairs with gaily-decorated booths dotting the ancient agricultural festival sites. Are you going to Scarborough fair? As with all pagan holidays these were days of joy and a rare day off from the daily toil our ancestors faced. Plays were held, dances brought villagers together, with reveling commencing at sunset and continued through the night.

    Impossible for the Christian religion to stamp out the old ways, Lughnassad, was Christianized and converted to Lammas. Lammas means "Loaf Mass" for it was the day the first loaves from the first harvest were laid on the altar as offerings to the Christian god.

   All well and good, but what does this have to do with William II, son of William the Conqueror? I beg your indulgence, we’re getting there.
 

  Prior to conquering England, William I was known as William the Bastard.  He came from Normandy, was the decedent of Vikings, and he spoke French. He changed the fate of England in one battle. Married to Matilda, credited with inspiring the creation of the amazing Bayeux tapestry, he had upwards of ten children (poor Matilda, it’s a wonder she had time for needlework).
 
 Many of the children were girls, lost to sexist obscurity. Of the four sons, three lived to manhood, (Richard died young in a hunting accident).

     Robert Curthose, which translates to “short stockings”, so called because of his small stature, was William’s eldest and was given the rule of Normandy. Robert was a problem child, and unhappy with not being in line for the thrown of England, he rebelled against his father and brothers, causing general mayhem on both sides of the channel. Though not for want of trying, he never became king.

   Henry Beauclerc, so called because of his scholarly nature, was the youngest of the three, he received no land but rather monetary compensation.

   Yes, yes, you say, but again what the heck does this have to do with Lammas and William II, known as William Rufus due to his ruddy complexion.

  William I decreed the New Forest belonged only to him. All peasants and commoners were barred access for hunting, foraging, or grazing their stock. This caused great resentment in the Saxon people. As King, William II carried on the tradition, offering bounties on wolf hides so game would be plentiful. Extremely fond of the hunt, he went out to do so late on the eve of Lammas. Was a secret pagan society at work that night, were the peasants rebelling and using the earlier death of his brother as their inspiration, or was it simply fate?

     As dusk fell in the primeval forest, an arrow struck William II in the heart, killing him instantly. Horrified, his “loyal companions” abandoned him as they fled to secure their private holdings. Such a sudden change in kingship would no doubt cause turmoil. His body lay where it fell, unattended all night, picked up the next morning by a charcoal burner named Purkiss.

  Fingers were pointed at Sir Walter Tyrell, but he absconded to France. When William II died, brother Robert was afar, just returning from the 1st crusade, so brother Henry seized the golden opportunity to take the throne of England. Henry never pursued the theory that Tyrell was guilty, nor was anyone ever accused or condemned as the William II’s assassin. Henry’s lack of search for the truth has led to conjecture as to his being complicit in the “accident”.   

   So there you have it. The mystery of William II and Lammas. Perhaps there was a comet seen shortly before that haunting Lammas night. After all, one heralded the fall of King Harold Godwinson those may years before in 1066 when William the Conqueror set all this in motion.  

     William II, and his rather treacherous Holy henchman, Ranulf Flambard, are seconday characters in my Medieval romance, The Dragon and The Rose.
 
 


 

 


 

 



Thursday, June 27, 2013

AGRARIAN WARRIORS


   The romance addict in me visualizes hunky cowboys as the men who won the west, but the stalwart farmers tamed a good portion of it too. And many of them are just as darn hot and ripped.


   So this is dedicated to the men (and women) who raise the food we put on our table as they battle the weather, government mandates, the interest rates on their farm equipment loans, the fickle stock market that often dictates the price of a barrel of wheat, and factory farm take-overs.    




    The Berthoud Historical Society recently hosted a house tour and tractor parade. Perhaps because I grew up in Moline, Illinois, the home of John Deere, and we had an International Harvester refrigerator in our kitchen and a plow on our high school class ring, I have a fondness for tractors.



 The antique ones were fascinating, and obviously cared for lovingly.






This one was a military road-grater used by the Army Airborne Division to make landing strips in WWII.

Here is the forerunner of the modern day thrashing machine

    They were washed and polished, and made wonderful growly noises as they passed by.



 










Kenny Chesney put it like this.....

Plowing these fields in the hot summer sun
Over by the gate, yonder here she comes
With a basket full of chicken
And a big cold jug of sweet tea
I make a little room and she climbs on up
I open up the throttle and stir a little dust
Look at her face, she ain't a foolin' me
 

She ain't into cars or pick-up trucks
But if it runs like a deer, man her eyes light up

 
She thinks my tractor's sexy
It really turns her on
She's always starin' at me
While I'm chuggin' along
She likes the way it's pulling
While it's tillin' up the land
She's even kinda crazy about my farmers tan
She's the only one who really
Understands what gets me
She thinks my tractor's sexy


I can picture any one of these guys singing that song to me!


Nothin' like fresh veggies........



I'd love to help you unload that hay......





Finally, someone to help trim goat hooves......




You don't sing? No problem......




Ode to The Agrarian Warrior
by Gini Rifkin

    Foggy morning, up before the sun.  The tractor awaits, a familiar old friend. The engine grumbles as it barters for a few more moments rest then growls into life. And so begins the day for the solitary man as he reflects upon the complexities of the world, or simply marvels at the beauty of the magpie perched upon the nearest fence post.

    A field of wheat, a grain of truth. Like gulls behind a mighty ship at sea, hungry hawks follow in the wake of his wheeled vessel. Is the warrior at the helm an apple-cheeked youth full of wonder and hope for the future? Or does a wise more mature countenance peer through the morning mist? One who carries proud memories of a life well lived. Perhaps the heart of a female, reminiscent of Joan de Arc, beats beneath the flannel and denim hauberk.

     You are the Green Knight fighting glorious battles against misguided civilization. Fending off developers who covet your water and land. You are a Galahad trying to appease Nature--your fickle handmaiden. Mother Earth your friend can deliver a gentle rain or a cooling breeze.  Mother Earth your spurned lover can flood the land with tears or burn your crops with unrelenting heat as she conspires in anger with the blazing sun.

    As the days grow shorter the fields will slumber. Winter approaches bearing the promise of quiet nights by the warm fire. Rest easy, there is hay in the mow and the wood is cut and at the ready. But the demands of the warrior know not the season.  And though you are weary there are cattle and other livestock to be fed, some stranded in fields drifted high with snow, your efforts will be their only salvation. And there are family and friends to see to, even strangers up the road who need your help.

     Yet do not despair Spring will find us again, and as you measure your kingdom in acres not realms, sleep well tonight. You are one with the land, an achievement not realized by many, a brotherhood formed by the few and the stalwart. You are the Agrarian Warrior. 


                    If I don't see you in the future,
                    I'll see you in the pasture.
      


www.ginirifkin.com


Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Reviews in for VICTORIAN DREAM

 
 
 


Christy Carlyle at Night Owl Reviews says.....

Victorian Dream is written with a rich depth of detail. It is also nicly spiced with an underlying sense of mystery and danger. The attraction between Trelayne and Walker is nicely developed, and the author does an excellent job of putting you inside each character's heart and mind.

1851 England & America.

     Trelayne St.Christopher, a cosseted young English woman, dreams of falling madly in love, just like the daring women in her purloined novels. Now faced with adult responsibilities for the first time in her life, she leaps at the opportunity to manage her father's shipping business. But when Trelayne ignores her prophetic nightmares in favor of passionate daydreams, her best laid plans go dangerously awry.

     Emotionally scarred by the death of his wife, Yankee sea captain Walker Garrison bans romance from his personal manifest, shipbuilding is his only passion. The transatlantic partnership between Walker and Trelayne's father seems a grand idea until her parents are critically injured and one of Walker's crew turns up dead. On the trail of the man responsible, Walker sets sail for England. But, after meeting his new partner's daughter, protecting Trelayne and not falling in love with her may prove impossible.

     Will he find the murderer, but lose his heart?

Excerpt:

   “Have I missed the first waltz?” Walker asked, escorting Trelayne to the center of the room.
     “No. I’ve allowed none to be played, and my poor guests are near to the point of exhaustion from quickstepping about the room.”
        He gave a chuckle, taking a step backward, his gaze gliding over her from head to toe. “You appear to have held up beautifully.”
          As they stood before one another, a hush blanketed the room. It was one tiny moment, filled with a lifetime of anticipation. Coming to her senses, she caught Penelope’s attention and nodded toward the orchestra. Her friend rushed toward the musicians, nearly tripping on the hem of her dress. The lilting strains of Tchaikovsky soon swirled through the air like a welcoming breeze, and her guests issued playful hurrahs and hurried to find their partners.
      Captain Garrison, male elegance infused with animal-like grace and strength, swept her into his arms—and into a dream come true.
       When he solidly placed his hand at the small of her back, a tingling sensation shot straight up her spine to the roots of her hair. The resulting effect was more potent than wine. She was dizzy with desire, giddy with happiness. She must remember to breathe.
      They stood so close, only their clothing and the heat of their bodies between them—a glorious temptation, just beyond reach. Teasing and taunting, it was a fleeting taste of what she yearned to partake of fully.
     “I’ve thought a time or two about holding you in my arms,” he admitted, in a husky voice. “It feels even better than I imagined.”
     “What other thoughts have crossed your mind?” she dared to ask, finding the courage to stare up at him.
         His eyes crinkled at the corners, but his gaze held passion as well as mirth. “Things a man ought not discuss with a lady.”    

 
4.5 stars so far at Amazon.com!
Please pick up a copy, print or e-book
 
http://www.amazon.com/Victorian-Dream-ebook/dp/B00AE7K4PK/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1370463087&sr=1-1&keywords=victorian+dream+by+gini+rifkin
 

Sunday, April 21, 2013

VICTORIAN SPRINGTIME TEA & BOOK-SIGNING

     
 The beginning of the week looked a bit bleak for hosting a Springtime tea.
 


 

 

    Then the sun came out, and the snow melted, and by Saturday spirits were high and the fun began at the Berthoud Historical Society 1st ever Victorian Springtime Tea.
 
 
 
The food was fabulous, with three types of sandwiches--cucumber, chicken, and egg salad, plus an array of cookies including a yummy wedge of death by chocolate. 
 
 
 We served 20 lovely ladies, and one very brave man!
 
  
 
             My sister Kathy,
     and our friend Kathy
                 were in attendance.
  
 
 
 
           I also promoted my latest book,
                   VICTORIAN DREAM
 
 
                          (That's some bad hat, Harry.)
 
I sold several copies, and my thanks
to all who purchased a book.
 
 
 
       It was a very successful day all around, and despited the "tea emergency" John, Jan, Virginia, and I, (the Fearless Four) had great fun.
 
 
                          CHEERS......

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

THE PASSOVER BUNNIES



 Our two new rescue animals at the Farmlette.

   Another new species to hang out with the ducks, geese, goats, donkeys, and cats. Lots to learn, and do to get ready for their arrival. They needed proper housing, their own special food, and patience 






     As they arrived closer to Passover than Easter, I decided to give them Hebrew names. Introducing our two little girl bunnies. (At least I sure hope they are both girls) Tova and Shula. As far as I can determine, based on my research Tova means Goodness and Shula means Peaceful. Two things to make the wold a better place. 

                Happy Passover, Happy Easter,
                            Happy Ostera.
 
 



www.ginirifkin.com
http://ginirifkin.blogspot.com


Monday, March 18, 2013

MORE HATS




         A few weeks ago, I went to the Horse Expo
                              in Denver.


 I promised myself I wouldn't buy anything,  just walk around with my friends and enjoy their company and a day of fun. 




            We saw beautiful, very large, horses,



                         Learned about horse rescue,


                         and Farrier organizations,



Then we came to the place selling those adorable collectable Breyer horses. My friends Norma and Carol each bought one which started a buying frenzy, and Evy bought me lunch to keep up my strength (ha ha).



    The excitement quickly spread, and before I knew it, I was in front of the hat store, with chapeau-fever spreading through my body, my promise not to buy only a faint memory as my will power slipped away.


              Yes, I bought not one, but two hats.



    When I got home, and recovered, I chastised myself for being weak and feeding my addiction. But a girl's got to have some fun.

      I also bought a little miraculous hair accouterment called the EZ Bun. I love it. I have never been able to put my long hair up with any sucess. This works like a charm. I was all thumbs at first, like a monkey with a new toy, but now I'm getting pretty good at it.

         Only trouble is, when my hair is up,
                I can't get my HAT on.

www.ginirifkin.com
http://ginirifkin@blogspot.com

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

CAUGHT BETWEEN WINTER AND SPRING



    It is nearly the end of February. I feel trapped between Winter and Spring. We got a foot of snow this weekend so I guess Winter is winning the tug-of-war.  
 
   It is a good time of year for reading seed catalogs, planning the garden, embroidering, and doing research.
 
Here is a website I recently visited that would be a boon to medieval authors. It has quick bites of all things Medieval and can inspire ideas, urge further research, and gives a great overview of different time periods.  http://www.drakensang.com/medieval-times
 

Hope you enjoy what this site has to offer.
 
P.S I think there may be bunnies in my future!