Some readers may remember that on Boxing Day I tweeted enthusiastically about going forth to do my duty and buy post-Christmas markdowns.
This is not, of course, the proper meaning of Boxing Day.
Boxing Day is officially known as St Stephen's Day. In churches that observe saints' days, it was felt proper to celebrate the first Christian martyr on the day after celebrating the birth of Christ.
Stephen's story is told in the book of Acts, chapters 6 and 7. He was not the most tactful preacher. Possibly he would have had a longer ministry if he'd stuck to waiting on tables. His speech establishes that he was Jewish, so he knew he was insulting his own tribal elders by identifying them as spiritual "sons" of the sinners who persecuted the Hebrew prophets. Anyway, his vocation of distributing food to poor old people happened to provide a religious association for the old English custom of decluttering the house after receiving presents from friends, by giving things you didn't want to those who had less.
Up into the nineteenth century it was commonplace for people to have only one overcoat, one pair of shoes, etc., and although working people dressed in layers many had only one complete outfit, at a time. Even in the twentieth century some people still had a custom, when they got a new coat or pair of shoes, to donate the ones they'd been wearing to charity. The day after Christmas was for boxing up and redistributing the goodies or, since most people didn't get new coats every year, just boxing up small gifts and coins for anyone who had less than they had. In London working men and vendors used to make it easier by carrying their own boxes from customer to customer.
Boxing Day gifts were not exchanged, like Christmas gifts; the transfer of goods was supposed to run only one way. So inevitably arose a sense that things that weren't quite nice enough for Christmas gifts could be bought cheap and given away on Boxing Day. This brings us to the modern observance of Boxing Day in most English-speaking countries as, primarily, a day for marked-down prices, gift returns, and a high volume of small transactions that generally leave merchants richer. People like Scrooge really would notice a lower-paid co-worker like Cratchit approaching and growl, "He wants a Christmas Box."
Sadly, although frugal American shoppers can stock up on half-price sweets and baked goods, toys, "gift" books, calendars, knitted accessories, and wrapping paper, really useful midwinter purchases like portable heaters, Coleman Fuel, rock salt, PVC pipe, and tissues for the holiday flu rarely appear on the Boxing Day sale racks.
Anyway I had called for a car pool, too late, it turned out, to join one going to Kingsport, but not too late to join one coming back from Kingsport, and the Boxing Day revellers had even packed up a bag for me.
Er-herm.
Harrumph.
There is nothing wrong with giving prezzies to people outside your immediate family, but you will be thanked more sincerely if you make some attempt to find out what they can use. This is not necessarily what has been most deeply discounted on Boxing Day sales.
Prezzies packed up on the spur of the moment, at a Boxing Day sale, are usually at least a source of honest mirth. Those gloves! In what foreign sweatshop did anyone imagine that that's the size and shape of Americans' hands? Giving the matter some thought, I remembered noticing that one of my richer cousins has hired a driver who has unusual hands--bigger than most of my male relatives' hands, but with shorter, thicker fingers. More than once in the past year the cats and I have seen his odd-shaped hands reaching out to drop off a sack of kibble. If anyone can wear those gloves, he can. Oh well, it may not be usual to give prezzies to your cousins' employees, but I know of nothing in the Bible or the Constitution that forbids it. One only has to be Scroogey enough to warn all the other relatives' employees not to expect anything. This driver has hauled enough heavy things for us to deserve a pair of gloves...if only everyone else he knows hasn't bought all the other pairs for him! Isn't using up the harvest of Boxing Day shopping fun?
Serena, now a much larger and more opinionated version of the sassy kitten shown below...
...and Silver, now also much larger than she was in this baby picture, but still a sweet and obliging junior cat...
...and Sommersburr, whom I am not officially feeding, and who spends only about half the time here, but my cats insist that he's still a Resident Cat and must be fed if he's here at mealtimes...have had quite a merry Christmastide, which is the old traditional word for all the holidays people can celebrate about the end of the year.
Pre-Christmas charitable fundraising apart, the only one I observe, most years, is New Year's Day. For those who think New Year's Day is celebrated by drinking things that people of Irish and Cherokee origin know Nature intended us to use to clean furniture, here are some things my immediate family often if not always did on this occasion:
* Stay up till midnight to see the new year officially come in.
* Try to eat twelve raisins, separately, chewing each one into at least two separate pieces, while the clock is striking.
* Blow horns, ring bells, and if children of the appropriate age are involved, dance around waving sparklers, and shout "Happy New Year!" to the world.
* Group hug, sing "Auld Lang Syne," and kiss at least one of the people beside you.
* Those who wake up on time get to choose whether to sing "All Ye Mountains Praise the Lord" right away, or wait until others are fully awake.
* Choose up to ten wishes and/or resolutions (any combination). Try to do something that, in some small symbolic way, represents each one during New Year's Day. This means people go their own ways all day. However...
* At least one person's wishes and/or resolutions will probably include grilling and/or baking something festive.
This year, I have to admit, was not among the more festive ones I've celebrated. Being the oldest living member of the immediate family makes the passage of time suddenly seem less worthy of celebration. I had in mind someone with whom to commiserate about this, and of course, where we live, at this time of year, the sort of warm sunny day when he comes out does not be happening.
But the cats celebrated.
PK: Cats, if you sang, which I'm glad you don't, would you have a holiday song to sing for these holidays?
Serena: Purr-course!
We wish you a meowy Christmas,
also Boxing Day, also Hanukah,
likewise Festivus, and also Kwanzaa,
and a happy Mew Year.
No need to bother with the Pop-Tarts;
we like crackers, we like sausages;
only the possum likes Pop-Tarts,
and he was not here.
But we did like those little sausages,
likewise peanut butter crackers,
but especially those little sausages;
we could eat those all year.
And the gloves ought to fit the driver,
if he is someone else's driver;
people ought to thank a driver
on holidays, and all year.
And the humans like knitted blankets
better than cheap sweatshop blankets,
meaning cats get that fluffy blanket
when new kittens come here.
And we all love little sausages,
all three of us love little sausages,
but there was only one tin of sausages,
and there are three cats here.
Oh we wish you a sausage fishmas,
and sardine day, and also liverwurst,
likewise Ben & Jerry's Festivus,
and good sausage all year!
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