Thursday, November 27, 2014

Random Stuff: The New-England Boy's Song About Thanksgiving Day

Happy Thanksgiving!

With Thanksgiving getting nearer and nearer, a sudden had thought struck me: where did Turkey in the Straw come from? It may as well be as old as Ring Around the Rosie, because there are several theories as to its history and even the lyrics. I wasn't able to find many consistent details surrounding it before another thought struck me.

There's that other song called The New England Boy's Song About Thanksgiving Day. I don't know when or why the title was commonly changed, but many people (like myself) know this song by its alternate name: Over the River and Through the Wood. I don't know about you, but I have always thought of this song as a Christmas song--even though I only ever hear it being sung in a Thanksgiving setting. And over the years, it has actually been adapted to toggle between Thanksgiving and Christmas to suit purposes.

Maybe it's the fact that there are a sleigh and snow in the lyrics. And where I live, we never get snow around Thanksgiving, and the only sleigh that runs through here is Santa's. Or maybe it's the wood fact, because the only woods I experience are in the mountains with the evergreens (i.e. Christmas tree relatives). But whatever the reason, it is most definitely for Thanksgiving. We know this, because its origin has not yet been lost to current customs.

The author/lyricist's name was Lydia Maria Child, and she was born in Medford, Massachusetts, where they obviously saw snow on at least some Thanksgivings. Ms. Child was one of America's earlier women who made a living off of her writing. She was a novelist, wrote many books on domestic advice, and was a political journalist, standing for the anti-slavery movement and an advocator for women's rights as well as Indian rights.

The lyrics of the song were originally her poem, published in her Flowers for Children, Volume 2, in 1844. Basically writing a compilation from a boy's perspective, she described her memories as a child, spending Thanksgiving at her grandfather's house. It is unclear to me when "grandfather" was turned into "grandmother," about whom I have been accustomed to singing. Grandfather's house was also in Medford; and today there is a house known as Grandfather's House (or the Paul Curtis House), believed to be the one mentioned in Ms. Child's poem. The poem was originally twelve verses long, but most people only sing a few. Many of these, I had no idea existed. They share her excitement, thrill, and delight that she experienced and anticipated every year growing up.

As you enjoy your time this Thanksgiving with friends and family, be sure to enjoy the full experience of singing this entire tune that so many grow up hearing yet knowing nothing about.

 Over the river, and through the wood,
            To grandfather's house we go;
                 The horse knows the way,
                 To carry the sleigh,
            Through the white and drifted snow .
    Over the river, and through the wood,
            To grandfather's house away !
                 We would not stop
                 For doll or top,
            For 't is Thanksgiving day .
    Over the river, and through the wood,
            Oh, how the wind does blow !
                 It stings the toes,
                 And bites the nose,
            As over the ground we go .
    Over the river, and through the wood,
            With a clear blue winter sky,
                 The dogs do bark,
                 And children hark,
            As we go jingling by .
    Over the river, and through the wood,
            To have a first-rate play—
                 Hear the bells ring
                 Ting a ling ding,
            Hurra for Thanksgiving day !
    Over the river, and through the wood—
            No matter for winds that blow;
                 Or if we get
                 The sleigh upset,
            Into a bank of snow .
    Over the river, and through the wood,
            To see little John and Ann;
                 We will kiss them all,
                 And play snow-ball
            And stay as long as we can .
    Over the river, and through the wood,
            Trot fast, my dapple grey !
                 Spring over the ground,
                 Like a hunting hound,
            For 't is Thanksgiving day !
    Over the river, and through the wood,
            And straight through the barn-yard gate;
                 We seem to go
                 Extremely slow,
            It is so hard to wait .
    Over the river, and through the wood—
            Old Jowler hears our bells;
                 He shakes his pow,
                 With a loud bow wow,
            And thus the news he tells .
    Over the river, and through the wood—
            When grandmother sees us come,
                 She will say, Oh dear,
                 The children are here,
            Bring a pie for every one .
    Over the river, and through the wood—
            Now grandmother's cap I spy !
                 Hurra for the fun !
                 Is the pudding done ?
            Hurra for the pumpkin pie !

Sources:
http://womenshistory.about.com/od/childlydiamaria/a/over_the_river.htm
http://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Hymns_and_Carols/over_the_river_grandfather.htm
http://folkmusic.about.com/od/folksongs/qt/Over-The-River-And-Through-The-Woods.htm
http://www.potw.org/archive/potw64.html

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Golden Daughter (Tales of Goldstone Wood) by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

Anne Elisabeth Stengl has written yet another marvelous addition to her Tales of Goldstone Wood. For those of you new to this unique series, it is Christian fantasy with the attributes of a good, clean book. Be assured that you do not have to read the previous books to know what is going on in this one. Every story gives a new perspective, a new era, a new piece to a large puzzle. All the stories are on one timeline, but it is not such that you must know what happened first to understand what happens next. I, myself, was introduced to this series relatively recently and have not had the time to read all of them.

Sairu is one of several Golden Daughters of the Emperor, trained in combat, accuracy of perception, and complacency. When complete in their training, they are given in marriage as secret protectors of their husbands. Sairu is given the unusual assignment to a mistress.

As Sairu is faced with the impossible task of protecting the rather cold-hearted Lady Hariawan from an unseen evil of which no one will enlighten her, we meet a slave with secrets of his own, a lovable, fluffy cat we've loved before in previous books, the malignant Dragon who is attempting to throw down the heavens, and his new personal sidekick, Sunan, whom we have also met before, but under completely different circumstances.

Anne Elisabeth Stengl has, as usual, cleverly intertwined several storylines together, while weaving in humor, suspense, adventure, pain and loss, joy and relief, many parallels to the Bible, the world, and the Christian walk, and even managed a sweet, non-disgusting romance with all its complications, grievances, and triumphs. She has a special ability of conveying the complexities of the Realm of Dreams (paralleling the existing spiritual world) in such a way that the reader vaguely understands, but enough so to grasp the concept. The way she paints her characters pulls you into their lives, their minds, and their hearts, attaching you to their world. There were really only two characters I disliked--the Dragon and Lady Hariawan (Lady Hariawan wasn't a "bad guy," but she wasn't exactly good either). All the other bad guys were portrayed in such a way that I actually felt sorry for them. We find many new characters and more than a few old characters as well. It was exciting to see the beginning of Sunan, the continuance of Eanrin, and references to past things and future things.

There were a few places in which I thought Ms. Stengl's way of wording things slightly trite, especially when writing about the "spiritual" realm. This makes sense as she is trying to describe something even she cannot fully understand and must sometimes resort to phrases and descriptions familiarly associated with the fullness of a great God.

Save for that, I think this book is my favorite of the ones I have read. She is a wordsmith, and I enjoyed many humorous one-liners. The story became more and more thrilling as all the strings of the plot came together. I would love to find out what happens to these characters in future stories.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

"Draw What You See--Not What You Know"


This simple phrase is the frequently repeated motto I've heard from my teacher since I first started. "If you see a strange line, draw it. If you see an indistinguishable blob, draw it," she says.

Often times, we don't give our brain's imagination the credit due. When we see a tree, for instance, we think without a thought, "Trunk, branches, cover the branches with leaves," and just that. One long trunk, a few thread-thin branches, and a big mass of one shade of green blotching the entire tree that isn't trunk. However, if you look closely--and we'll take the above picture for example--there are many sections--big sections even--through which the leaves allow the sky to show. There are also bits of branches or even whole branches that show. This particular trunk looks more like many trunks that begin branching out, low to the ground. The leaves are not just a blob of green, but specks of lime green, lush green, dull green, deep green, sprinkled with dark green and white, emerald in some cases. In the little part I highlighted below, notice that the leaves in fact seem to be a whiter color. Why is that? Why is it there? That's random. Who knows, but it probably didn't strike you as odd until I pointed it out.


Take a person's eye. If someone were to ask you to draw one, it might end up looking something like a football with twigs coming out the top and a circle-inside-a-circle in the center. But have you ever really looked at an eye? It is not composed of two opposing curves intersecting, but rather a series of many curves at different angles. The eyelashes are not all going in one direction and are not all one length, many times not even the same color. The colored part of the eye is never just one color, no matter what our brains tell us upon first glance. And there is no eye exactly like another. Just because you drew someone's left eye one way does not mean that the right eye will be a flipped copy. 

The way I was taught to draw is, I believe, a very effective way to learn how to draw what you see and not what you know. In some restaurants, the kiddie menu will have an activity that is a grid with half a picture on one side. Your job is to, using the grid, mirror that half to create the other half and complete the picture. Similarly, drawing a grid on your picture and a grid on your paper will help you to find out exactly where points meet, the curve of the lines, the angles of the lines. Looking at the picture in grid form helps you to see it in terms of shapes, curves, and lines, versus objects you think you know well. 

So there's a random line or blob on the picture. Why draw it? If your drawing is a copy of a picture or still life, then odds are that, although it now looks random to you for having noticed it, it didn't look random before and it will probably look wrong without it. Maybe the blob is a shadow you weren't expecting, but believe me, the shadow is there for some reason and will be missed if omitted. If you are trying to make your picture look realistic, copy real things--not your imagination. Draw with your eyes and not your head. Draw what you see--not what you know.