~According to an old Christmas custom, a man and a woman who meet under a hanging of mistletoe were obliged to kiss. The custom was described in 1820 by American author, Washington Irving in his writing, The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent.:
The mistletoe is still hung up in farm-houses and kitchens at Christmas, and the young men have the privilege of kissing the girls under it, plucking each time a berry from the bush. When the berries are all plucked the privilege ceases.
My mother made her own mistletoe. However, hers was made with candy. Using a styrofoam sphere, she wrapped a red velvet ribbon around the sphere. The ribbon could be used to also hang the mistletoe. Next, she'd use toothpicks inserted into small candy kisses to decorate the styrofoam. When the holidays were over, we'd have feast of chocolate. But now knowing the rules about picking the berries, I wonder if mom would have guests pick a piece of chocolate after stealing a kiss under the mistletoe.
What are your memories of Mistletoe? Were you ever caught kissing underneath it? Or in my case...did you steal a "kiss"? In honor of the holidays, I'm giving away a $10 Amazon gift card to one lucky person who leaves a comment below along with their email address between today and Dec. 23rd (midnight) . Don't forget to follow the hop to the next stop to win another fabulous prize! Just follow the link at the bottom of the page!
Expecting her first child, Sherri Wilder Davison wants nothing more than to spend time with her father over the holidays, but fate has a way of changing her best-laid plans.
Adam Davison is willing to do anything to make his pregnant wife happy. He will face hell to have her home for the holidays.
For Sherri and Adam, the holidays are a time of celebration and love, but this Christmas will be unlike any they have ever faced.
When a horrible blizzard causes an automobile accident that puts the lives of those Sherri loves on the line, can a Christmas miracle save them?
Looking over at Adam, I’m amazed that such a handsome man could love me. Stubble showed on Adam’s rugged face. I liked the way the short growth of beard rubbed on my face when he nibbled on my ears. Adam’s dark brown hair was cut short, emphasizing his deep blue eyes and strong nose. The small dimple on his chin made him seem more approachable and much less serious. His tall stature and muscular body always made me feel precious yet delicate, like a porcelain doll, but Adam never treated me like anything other than a desirable woman.
“How are the roads? Do you think we can stop so I can use the bathroom? Your son is pushing on my bladder.” Wiggling in my seat, I tried to alleviate the uneasy pressure.
Adam looked over at me with a dreamy expression on his face. His gaze settled on my stomach as it undulated. “Sure, I could use some coffee. How are you feeling? Little Pea looks active tonight.”
“I’m okay except for the kicks to the bladder. I swear he’s practicing his temper tantrums so he has them right when he comes out. Oh Ricky, we are in so much trouble,” I replied with a silly high pitched whiney Lucille Ball-type voice, then smiled.
I am thankfully in the third trimester of my pregnancy. I’d passed the dangerous stage where many women miscarry as well as the dreaded morning sickness phase that sucks the very life out of a body. Now I had abundant energy and looked forward to finally getting ready to meet our son. We still had two more months to go but I already felt like a beached whale, not to mention the walking with a waddle. Adam loved talking to my stomach, he’d even been reading storybooks to our peanut each night.
Adam and I had eloped to Hawaii five years ago during our Christmas vacation. We’d kept our wedding private, only us. Today we are closer than most married couples, enjoying the same things, especially our cottage home on the Huron River, old movies, television shows, and snuggling up with a blanket on those cold Michigan nights.
While we both loved our families, neither one of us enjoyed traveling which became the basis for the fight. I’d won the the argument after the announcement of my father’s recent diagnosis. I’d spent hours on the phone with my sister, then on the internet gathering information on Alzheimer's. The dementia had already begun to kick in when Dad accidentally set fire to his home. Luckily, Syndie had already moved in with Dad and got him out of the house in time. My need for family had only become stronger since I’d learned about my pregnancy and the arrival of the first grandson.. I didn’t want my baby to miss out on his remaining grandparent.
Fear about my father never getting to meet or know my little peanut became a constant in my mind. Adam and I had distanced ourselves from our families over the years. We were always so happy spending time with just each other, we’d just never considered what those choices did to others. Having a baby changes things. My sister’s wedding invitation plus my dad’s diagnosis, well, both convinced me that we needed to get back to Ohio. Christmas seemed like a perfect excuse.
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