When I had the idea to bead a mistletoe ornament, I had no clue how long it would take me to finish this although it's by no means as big as the real mistletoe that I showed you some years ago when I told about the different stories and tales behind this plant in my 2014 advent calendar.
The
most difficult part was probably that the finished twigs kept getting
in the way. No, wait, I think the most difficult part was when der Dekan
stole the project and ran with it after I had put it down for a short break. He's such a
thief and he knows exactly what he wants to steal - everything I don't
want him to have!
I refused to let him have something I had already spent
hours on, though, and confronted him at the box from my last grocery
store delivery behind which he hid quite cleverly. Not clever enough for
me, though. He gave me quite the look when I took his new toy from him again!
The twigs are beaded in Herringbone stitch, the leaves are brick stitch.
The pearls are actually a little too big, but they have a personal meaning to me which is why I used them.
I beaded the mistletoe in a way that would make it look good from both sides as I don't know yet where it will hang.
And now excuse me while I'll be dragging my cats under it and smooch them mercilessly! ;-)
The other day I came home and found mistletoe hanging on the door of our house.
We all know about the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe, but where does this tradition come from? There is actually more than one story.
To the ancient Celtic druids mistletoe was a sacred plant with healing powers and as an aid to fertility. They cut it with a golden sickle, but they didn't kiss under it.
In ancient Greece it was also associated with fertility and people kissed under it during the Saturnalia festival or in marriage ceremonies.
For Scandinavians mistletoe was a plant of peace under which they declared a truce.
In 18th century England there were "kissing balls", balls of mistletoe decorated with ribbons, evergreens and ornaments. Young ladies standing under such a kissing ball could not refuse a kiss. If a lady remained unkissed, it meant that she would not marry the next year, indeed people even avoided her saying she would probably stay an old maid.
My favorite is the story of Frigg, a Norse goddess. When the god Loki set out to kill her son Balder, she made each animal and each plant on Earth promise to not harm Balder. The mistletoe that grows in trees, however, was forgotten. Loki made an arrow from a mistletoe branch and made the blind god of winter, Hoder, shoot Balder. The tears that Frigg shed over him are said to have turned into the white mistletoe berries.
When she was able to revive Balder after three days, she was so happy that she kissed everyone who walked by under the tree on which the mistletoe had grown and decreed that who stands under the mistletoe should be not harmed but kissed.
I have to admit that the English tradition of plucking a berry off the mistletoe after each kiss had been new to me. When all berries are gone, the kissing is over. Reason enough to get a big mistletoe with lots of berries, right?
