Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left? for the Daily Post

Posted in the Daily Post : In The Style Of : Tales of the odd and unexpected

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” Charles Dickens

Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?

The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.

Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch.
I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.

After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.

But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.

After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.

My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”

I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.

When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.

Merry Pudding and God bless us everyone!

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Back in Time for the Daily Post

Posted in the Daily Post : In The Style Of : Tales of the odd and unexpected

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“When I was kid, my social network was called ‘outside’ “

Back in Time

This is the work one of pure fiction. Neither polar bears nor reindeer were harmed in the creation of this literary process!
The year was 1924.

Longitude and latitude: Somewhere up north, thataway! The Finnish Lapland would probably be the most accurate location for this tale.

How old was I?

I guess I was somewhere between ten and twelve years of age. In those days, people were born and they died. No one really bothered with the record keeping. Lord knows there were plenty of us to go around.

Despite the fact it was close to midsummer, there was still snow on the ground. The reindeer and polar bears were roaming the streets while us kids were running around, having snowball fights. That is, during the minimum spare time we had between school, chores and work. Sleeping in those days was a luxury. Sometimes we had a full night’s sleep, sometimes the watch duty fell on my plate and I needed to stay up all night. Luckily, coffee had been invented ten years prior and we were all pretty much hooked on the sweet dark liquid.

Our housing for the winter months was an igloo, which the whole family constructed out of ice. Snow was used as plaster to fill in any holes between the blocks of ice. During the summer time, we had a tent like structure made out of bear and deer skin. Unfortunately all of us favoured the winter dwelling for one simple fact: The summer house stunk like a skunk. The choice of material was not a good one, but then, it was depression and all commodities were scarce.

The trip to school, either winter or summer time was made on skis and it was part to the exercise curriculum for all of us still eligible for the classes. A twenty kilometer trip back and forth was not a big deal and was building the strength and endurance nicely. This also came in handy for our after school activities. Some of us went to work in the coal mines, while others were herding rein deer or taking care of their younger siblings.

Each Saturday the Sauna was heated and all the family gathered into the cramped little room, heated up to eighty degrees. We were sitting all butt cheek to butt cheek in the nude on a wooden construct in the small dark room. Only the burning fire in the stove gave some lighting. As a luffa, a loosely tied bunch of birch tree branches with leaves on them was used. Out mother pummeled us with the concoction and me thinks she enjoyed it a little too much. Granted we children gave her grieve sometimes, so I will give her that.

Bathing for us then meant taking dips in the icy, below freezing waters. This, after we had first heated our body temperatures close to baking. Then we ran naked to the lake, where a large hole had been dug into the ice and plunged in.

All in all life was pretty ordinary and uneventful in my childhood, apart from the minor quirks.

Do I miss it? My childhood?

I would rather spend my next holiday on a labour camp!

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (one)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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Blue skies
Blue waters
No need,
To go any further

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (seven)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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The wind’s subsiding
The mist arising
It’s all calm
After the storm

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (five)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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No sun a shining
When the storm clouds
Fill the horizon
Time to sail ashore
Before the all mighty Thor
Hits his hammer

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (nine)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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In the fields of plenty
And the oceans of blue
If you throw in a penny
You get back two

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (six)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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At nightfall
We all feel small
Trying to stand tall
Before the last rays
In the waters lay

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (four)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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The high rising mountains
Seem like many thousands
Blue against blue
Surrounded by clouds in the same hue

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (three)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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Majestic,
Aesthetic,
Built very simplistic
Even a little rustic
But still highly
Respected

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Evia for World Wide Wednesday (eight)

Posted in Travel and World Wide Wednesday: Travel Log, Photography, Poetry and Humour

“We travel,
some of us forever,
to seek other places,
other lives,
other souls.”
– Anais Nin

Evia for World Wide Wednesday

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After the storm churned
Showing its might
The world turned
Into black and white

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