Skip to main content

Feature & Follow Friday

Gain new followers and make new friends with the Book Blogger Feature & Follow! If this is your first time here, welcome! .

The Feature & Follow has two hosts, Parajunkee of Parajunkee's View and Alison of Alison Can Read. Each has their own Feature Blog.

How does this work? First, leave your name here on this post, (using the Linky tools below.)  Then you create a post on your own blog that links back to this post (easiest way is to just grab the code under the #FF picture and put it in your post) and then you visit as many blogs as you can and leave a message in their comments section.


And today's question, set by the FF hosts, is:  What’s your favourite Thanksgiving Day food? If you’re not American or Canadian, what is your favourite holiday food?

Here in Britain, we don't celebrate Thanksgiving Day.  This festival's historical roots can be linked to our ancient harvest festivals and the English Reformation in 1536, and while some people still celebrate a harvest festival this isn't a national holiday and there isn't a particular food associated with it. 

What we do have, which might interest some readers, are Corn Dollies.  No, you can't eat them, (not unless you've the teeth and digestive tract of a goat), but these charming objects are still believed by some people to bring luck into a home just so long as it is not removed again until the next harvest, when it has to be replaced by a new Corn Dolly and the old one burned.  Whether you believe this superstition is, of course, entirely up to you.


Comments

Unknown said…
I like the idea of a corn dollie. Thanks for sharing that tradition.

New Follower, GFC, G+ and Facebook

My FF
You're welcome, Donna. I'll reciprocate.

Popular posts from this blog

A Cure for Aging?

"All that we profess to do is but this, - to find out the secrets of the human frame; to know why the parts ossify and the blood stagnates, and to apply continual preventatives to the effort of time.  This is not magic; it is the art of medicine rightly understood.  In our order we hold most noble -, first, that knowledge which elevates the intellect; secondly, that which preserves the body.  But the mere art (extracted from the juices and simples) which recruits the animal vigour and arrests the progress of decay, or that more noble secret which I will only hint to thee at present, by which heat or calorific, as ye call it, being, as Heraclitus wisely taught, the primordial principle of life, can be made its perpectual renovator...." Zanoni, book IV, chapter II, by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, first published in 1842. Oroboros keyring - Spooky Cute Designs The idea of being able to achieve an immortal life is probably as old as human life itself.  Folklore and myt...

Remembering Richie Tattoo Artist's Studio

Richard in the street entrance to his tattoo studio in Liverpool. The vertical sign next to Richard is now in the Liverpool Tattoo Museum. Yesterday, my sister Evelyn, Richard and myself stood outside Richard's old tattoo studio and looked up at the few remaining signs, whose paint has now mostly flacked away to reveal bare wood. On the studio's window are stick-on letters which read, "Art", where once it boldly announced his presence as the city's only "Tattoo Artist".  I can remember him buying that simple plastic lettering from an old-fashioned printer's shop. This was in 1993, not long after he'd opened the studio and before he could afford better signs. After he'd patiently stuck them onto the glass we realised that from the outside the sign read "Artist Tattoo", so we had to carefully peel the letters off the window and have another go, laughing over having made such an obvious error yet worried in case we spoiled the letteri...

Dear Diary...

Do you keep a diary? Why did you start it, and, if you started one then stopped, why was that? What sort of things do (or did) you write about? I ask as, as a long-time diarist myself, there is an interesting piece in The Guardian today which talks about one woman's diary habit, which she began at the age of fourteen. I started a diary around that age too, but destroyed it after my mother accused me of using cocaine.  A stern scene followed, with both parents perched ram-rod straight in their armchairs, while I was subjected to a heated inquisition. Where had I bought it, and who from? Didn't I know such things led to death and doom? I struggled to decipher their bewildering accusations, until Mum blurted out, "I read it in your diary!" To find my diary, Mum would first have had to rummage through my dressing table, obviously when I wasn't around to protest. Her intrusion on my privacy was assumed by both parents to be acceptable, and now, with this handwritten c...