Dad joked about coal in the stockings at Christmas time. Thankfully, we never received any, though I admit suspiciously eyeing the coal candy and questioning the ways candy makers attempt to traumatize the young.
The wedding equivalent of coal in the stocking is garlic in the flower girl baskets. Or is it? Garlic was actually de rigueur in medieval times to ward off not the smells of the unwashed, but evil spirits.
The next time you are asked to help plan a wedding a la Renn Faire, the first thing to suggest is banishing the puffy shirts from your mother’s 80s secretarial job for something more authentic. Then, replace rue and holly with nice white elephant garlic bulbs. Just don’t wear them around your neck. I don’t ascribe to the real belief in the boogeyman, but maybe the new sentiment is wishing someone a nice Italian meal at the reception.
Mangia! I mean…Huzzah!history, useless information | Comment (0)