Kissing Balls

 

It all started with a kissing ball.

I saw a beautiful one in a shop window and considered making one. Then, as things tend to go, I ran out of time before the holiday season arrived.

But the idea of a kissing ball being involved in a holiday romance stuck with me. 

In my sweet historical romance, The Christmas Kiss (releasing today!), a cousin to the hero gives him a kissing ball for a decoration. 

He knows exactly what it represents and thinks about kicking it outside, but refrains. 

As I was writing about the kissing ball, I decided to do a little research about them. Kissing balls have been around a long, long time.

During the Middle Ages, villagers would wind twine and evergreen branches into a ball shape. In the center of the boughs, they would place a clay figure to represent baby Jesus. The boughs were hung from the ceiling to render blessings and good fortune to all who passed beneath it.

It was during Tudor times that the kissing bough became a popular Christmas tradition. They were made with two intertwined hoops covered with evergreens that included holly, bay, and mistletoe, and were hung over doorways to welcome guests. Legend says the tradition of the day was to salute or kiss in greeting or leave-taking. Amid the Christmas season, this bough gave free license for the activity. Those who met beneath it would often pick a berry from the mistletoe as proof of a kiss.

Victorian England brought a new look and name to the ornament. The kissing ball was elaborately decorated, incorporating mistletoe and evergreens such as pine, as well as flowers and herbs. Herbs were chosen for both beauty and symbolic value. Lavender and rosemary signified loyalty and devotion, mistletoe brought good fortune and fertility, while thyme promoted courage. An apple or potato frequently served as the base. Victorians emphasized romance with the kissing ball, waltzing beneath it at parties and women lingering near it in hopes of a suitor catching them there.

He’s a devoted single dad still grieving the loss of his wife.
She’s an outrageously fun female with a temper that runs as hot as a teakettle.
Will the two of them find a way to work together to give his son a Merry Christmas?

When Gracy Randall returns to Hardman after almost six years away, she can’t wait to see the look of surprise on her parents’ faces. But the surprises are for her, it seems, as everything she thought she could depend on turns out to be different than she expected. The family ranch? Sold. The fabulous job she lined up for her return? Gone. The life she left behind? Memories. Now what will she do?

Cord Granger has problems of his own. The ranch he bought to make a fresh start requires far more work and time than he’d anticipated. Until he can find someone to take care of the house and his son, Bodie, he struggles to keep up with each day’s demands. Yet, the thought of letting another woman into his home, even if she is hired to be there, feels like dishonoring the memory of his wife. But he has to do something. The work? Piling up. The grief he faces every day? Staggering. The life he left behind? Memories. Who can he trust to help?

After landing on the wrong foot the moment they meet, the last thing Gracy and Cord want to admit is that the other may hold the answer to their problems. Can a little holiday hope help Gracy bring fun and joy back into Cord’s world? Will Cord’s return to the land of the living break the heart she locked up six years ago?

Find out in The Christmas Kiss, a sweet historical holiday romance brimming with the wonder of the season, a town full of humorous characters, and heartwarming story of love.

His head lowered toward hers and their lips had just barely brushed when Bodie ran into the room, full of giggles.

“What’s this, Daddy? Is it a ball? Can I kick it like my other ball?”

Cord sighed and stepped back, grasping at the unraveled threads of his composure. Everything in him wanted to tell Bodie to kick the kissing ball until it was an obliterated pile of leaves, but he experienced the desire to kick it a few times himself, preferably at Luke.

Instead, he forced himself to smile and turned to face his son. “It’s not a toy, Bode. Your cousin Maura made it as a decoration.” He knelt beside Bodie, took the kissing ball from him, and dangled it from his index finger. “See, it hangs from this ribbon here. Where do you think we should put it?”

“I … I …” Bodie was so excited about the decoration, he raced out of the kitchen, scurried right back in, and grabbed Cord’s hand. “Come on, Daddy. We gots to find a good place for it!”

Cord stood and let Bodie tug him from the room but not before glancing back at Gracy with a look of promise. Maybe next time he cornered her at the sink, he’d make sure the kissing ball was hanging overhead.

What's your favorite holiday decoration or tradition?

Connect with Shanna at shannahatfield.com

Victorian-American New Year's Resolutions by Kristin Holt

 

by Kristin Holt,
USA Today Bestselling Author of Sweet American Historical Romance

 

Happy New Year!

Some matters might be wildly different now than back in the nineteenth century, yet some things haven’t changed. Like human nature. And the resolve to do better.

This clipping, from The Times of Philadelphia (December 31, 1875) encapsulates one view of the Victorian-American values surrounding New Year's and resolutions:

Quit Smoking – then and now

Given all we know about tobacco use in the nineteenth century, it’s no surprise people have both loved and hated the “vice.” This 'tale' rings true in 2021 as much as it did historically.

Note this quip from 1869:

New Year’s Resolutions, Nineteenth-Century Style

Through the lens of vintage newspaper articles, Victorian attitudes about relationships, indebtedness, and substance use are apparent. Many New Year’s editorial posts and syndicated articles make the writers’ opinions clear—be sober, be wise, be prudent. And whatever you do, don’t drag the old year’s problems into the new.

Show Me the Money

No matter how many fictional tales I’ve read (set in the nineteenth-century American West), I’ve yet to see the financial “norm” appear. That “norm” is the abundant use of credit. Yes, the roughly-dressed newcomer to town might have to plunk down a coin on the bar before he’s allowed to run a tab, but what about the grocer? Or the furniture maker?

Did you know buying on credit was standard business?

People ran up tabs and paid them biannually. As a holdover from English customs and law, nineteenth century U.S. residents bought all year long on a running tab. These bills from the milliner, cobbler, grocer (etc., etc.) came due on July 1 and January 1. Not only did merchants want the money owed to them, but those merchants in turn needed to pay their suppliers.

Frequent newspaper editorials reminded readers to pay their newspaper subscriptions (in arrears), pay their parsons, pay their debts to all they owe. This tradition lasted throughout the nineteenth century.

Cultural Pressure

In poetry, no less.

I discovered numerous newspaper inclusions of New Year's poetry that bemoaned debts coming due. Here is an example:

And one more, for kicks:

Viewed through the lens of twenty-first century political correctness, much of the Victorian Era is cringe-worthy. Statements made about those “other” than native English-speaking protestant whites, at the time, were not only acceptable but prolific. Note this one that both praises and demeans (or does “heathen” simply mean not-Christian?) the Chinese:

Societal pressures insisted a man couldn’t welcome the New Year while encumbered with unresolved issues. Social mores, strong as they were, carried over into “stories,” caged as Cautionary Tales (Moral of the Story) and consuming column after column in newspapers across the United States.

The Russell County Record of Russell, Kansas, ran a lengthy piece like this. Titled “The Happy New Year,” on December 31, 1874, a Mr. Ellis—who could be any one of a million middle-aged husbands and fathers—learns a painful and humiliating lesson. Pay. Your. Debts. Oh, and even more important: Live Within Your Means. This “fictional” fellow is far from content with his income, buys on credit, dreads the “New Year’s Bills,” and even though he’s taken on a wife (and subsequently brought about five cherubic children) can’t find his way out of financial purgatory without his neighbor’s voice of reason:

“Oh, dear, what a miserable life it is! And I must still keep the grocer’s pass-book going, or starve.” (...bemoans Mr. Ellis)

“Cash down! It must be cash down!” exclaimed the neighbor. “There is no other hope for you!”

“But where is the cash to come from?”

“Reserve enough from the payment of bills to keep your table and pay your servants’ wages. Take your wife fully into your confidence. Lay your affairs all open before her. Put the money needed for expenses into her hands, and ask her to make it go as far as possible. Spend nothing yourself. In fact, don’t carry money about you. It is a temptation.”

You Deserve Smooth Sailing

Nineteenth century mores insisted a man couldn't be happy unless in charge of his own finances. Note this effective comparison between "squaring the sails" and freedom from financial bondage:

Fix Your Marriage

Shudder.

To consider a New Year dawning in debt is nothing, compared to the dread of carrying a dying relationship across the threshold of January 1. Another lengthy moral-filled story graced several columns in The Western Call of Beloit, Kansas on December 30, 1881. (syndicated from Ballou's Magazine)

Long story made short, a newlywed couple struggles with finances because he insists on economy and she insists he’s selfish. The joy of last New Year’s Eve when they met and began courting rankles this aggravated wife, and before she knows it, she’s pushed her loving (if frustrated) husband away. He informs her he can’t live like this, and he leaves her for two long years. During this time she transforms into an economizing and hardworking farm owner (not just a farm wife), whereupon his return, they reunite and are well-suited (because of New Year’s resolutions?).

Mend Friendships

Tucked within an 1876 article covering etiquette of New Year's Calls (at-home visits), this gem expresses the essence of New Year's-- reconciliation.

Invitation

Are you surprised by Victorian-America's social mores regarding debt and the New Year?

Please scroll down and share your thoughts.

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Copyright © 2021 Kristin Holt LC

Words that Tie Our Hearts

by Shanna Hatfield

The other day as I flipped through a magazine, an article caught my eye. In it, a celebrity stated that small talk is "beneath us."

While I understand the desire to have conversations about big, news-worthy matters or political debates, we often overlook the importance and necessity that exists in small talk.

I'm not referring to inane cocktail party conversation with your boss's wife about the weather or your shoes. I'm thinking of those beginning conversations that allow us to get to know someone; those little chats that pave the way for a meaningful friendship or future relationship.

Small talk is essentially a light conversation. It's commonly used when talking to someone you've just met or don't know very well.  It's essential to successful business networking and relationships. But, it's equally important in laying the groundwork for our personal relationships, too.

When I think of small talk, I envision a woman during the Victorian era who's perhaps new to town and newly married. Can't you just picture her attending an afternoon tea or joining a quilting bee? She's so grateful for the small talk that helps her get to know her new neighbors and community while those in attendance get to know her, too. Perhaps she finds common ground with someone her own age or in similar circumstances. That light conversation may turn into a friendship that means the world to her. 

Or maybe it's a mail-order bride who finds herself alone in a primitive cabin miles from town while her husband is out hunting or working the land. How grateful she must have been to see another woman show up at her door, one who made the effort to small talk.  In the midst of conversations about wars, Indian raids, fires, plagues, and pestilence, I can only imagine the oasis of calm and comfort small talk must have provided.

I can even imagine a man who's meeting a woman for the first time. Small talk would have been an effective way to give himself a moment in her presence as he listened to the sound of her voice, studied how she carried herself. 

Through the years, we haven't really changed that much. We still need those light conversations, the ones that break the ice and let us know we aren't alone. 

There are times and places when "big talk" is needed. But I hope we never, ever cast aside the fine art of small talk.  It is there, in those light conversations, that our minds initially connect, and in those small words that eventually tie our hearts together. 

~*~

After spending her formative years on a farm in Oregon, hopeless romantic Shanna Hatfield turns her rural experiences into sweet historical and contemporary romances filled with sarcasm, humor, and hunky heroes.

When this USA Today bestselling author isn’t writing or covertly hiding decadent chocolate from the other occupants of her home, Shanna hangs out with her beloved husband, Captain Cavedweller.

Shanna loves to hear from readers. Follow her online at:

ShannaHatfield | Facebook | Newsletter | BookBub | Pinterest

Find Shanna’s books at:

Amazon| Barnes & Noble | Apple | Audible

Ice Skates

by Shanna Hatfield

When I was a little girl, growing up on our family's farm, the winter brought cold, snow, and a whole different set of chores.

It also meant I could sled off the hill behind our house, build snow forts, and, if the pond froze - go skating.

My dad had an old apple crate full of ice skates that looked like they might have been the first to roll off the assembly line back when they started mass manufacturing. But the worked just fine for gliding (or in my case, tripping and falling) across the ice.

As I was thinking about those old skates and the fun we used to have on the pond, it made me wonder about the history of ice skating.

Historians, it seems, generally agree ice skating originated in ancient Europe. The oldest pair of skates currently known were found in the bottom of a Switzerland lake and date back to about 3000 B.C. The skates were made from the leg bones of large animals with holes bored at each end of the bone. Leather straps were used to tie the skates on.

A study from 2008 that looked at northern European geography suggested that ice skates most likely first appeared in Finland. With many lakes in the region, the study said Finns who could skate across the large bodies of water rather than skate around would save both time and energy.

The Dutch started using wooden platform skates with flat, iron runners around the 14th century. Skates were attached to the skater's shoes with leather straps and poles were used to propel the skater forward. Around 1500, the Dutch added a double-edged, narrow blade that made the pole obsolete. These "Dutch Roll" skates made it possible for skaters to push and glide with their feet.

A man from Philadelphia invented the first all-steel clamp for skates in 1848. In 1865, Jackson Haines, a famous skater of his time, developed the two-plate all-metal blade that attached directly to his boots. He added the first toe pick to skates in the 1870s.  By the early 1900s, another U.S. blade maker developed a closed-toe blade made from one piece of steel that resulted in lighter, stronger skates.

If you have a chance to go skating this winter, take a spin around the ice for me.

~*~

USA Today bestselling author Shanna Hatfield is a farm girl who loves to write. Her sweet historical and contemporary romances are filled with sarcasm, humor, hope, and hunky heroes. When Shanna isn’t dreaming up dreamy characters, twisting plots, or covertly hiding decadent chocolate from the other occupants of her home, she hangs out with her beloved husband, Captain Cavedweller.

Shanna loves to hear from readers. 

Follow her online at:

ShannaHatfield | Facebook | Newsletter | BookBub | Amazon | Pinterest