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This is the last day of Chrismastide, and has of course been celebrated for a very long time in lots of ways.

It is the day the recipient of all those gifts finally lost it, called the cops, charged the bloke sending the leaping lords, milkmaids, swans, rings etc with stalking and harrassment, put the loot up for auction on EBay and moved to the Bahamas.

It is the day traditionalists take down their Chrissie decorations.

It's the Christian Feast of the Epiphany, the showing of the infant Jesus to people outside the Jewish Fold, the Feast of the Magi, the Three Kings.

It's the Feast of Topsy Turvey, Misrule.. when the servant became the master for a day, and the Lady of the Manor got sent to milk the cows. Anything goes. And the Church processions were lead by a humble donkey.

According to Wikipedia

"In Tudor England, the Twelfth Night marked the end of a winter festival that started on All Hallows Eve — which some now celebrate as Halloween. A King or Lord of Misrule would be appointed to run the Christmas festivities, and the Twelfth Night was the end of his period of rule. The common theme was that the normal order of things was reversed. This Lord of Misrule tradition can be traced back to pre-Christian European festivals such as the Celtic festival of Samhain and the Ancient Roman festival of Saturnalia. The Winter Solstice (December 21st) marks the 1st day of many Pagan Winter Festivals. The 12 nights following and including the solstice represent the 12 zodiac signs of the year - and the 12th Night (New Years Day) is a culmination and celebration of the Winter Festivals."



Song of the Fool - from Mr Shakespeare's 'Twelfth Night'

When that I was and a little tiny boy,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

A foolish thing was but a toy,

For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man's estate,

With hey, ho, . . .

'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate

For the rain, . . .

But when I came, alas! to wive,

With hey, ho, . . .

By swaggering could I never thrive,

For the rain, . . .

But when I came unto my beds,

With hey, ho, . . .

With toss-pots still had drunken heads,

For the rain, . . .

A great while ago the world begun,

With hey, ho, . . .

But that's all one, our play is done.

And we'll strive to please you every day.

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AussiePam;507020 wrote: This is the last day of Chrismastide, and has of course been celebrated for a very long time in lots of ways.

It is the day the recipient of all those gifts finally lost it, called the cops, charged the bloke sending the leaping lords, milkmaids, swans, rings etc with stalking and harrassment, put the loot up for auction on EBay and moved to the Bahamas.

It is the day traditionalists take down their Chrissie decorations.

It's the Christian Feast of the Epiphany, the showing of the infant Jesus to people outside the Jewish Fold, the Feast of the Magi, the Three Kings.

It's the Feast of Topsy Turvey, Misrule.. when the servant became the master for a day, and the Lady of the Manor got sent to milk the cows. Anything goes. And the Church processions were lead by a humble donkey.

According to Wikipedia

"In Tudor England, the Twelfth Night marked the end of a winter festival that started on All Hallows Eve — which some now celebrate as Halloween. A King or Lord of Misrule would be appointed to run the Christmas festivities, and the Twelfth Night was the end of his period of rule. The common theme was that the normal order of things was reversed. This Lord of Misrule tradition can be traced back to pre-Christian European festivals such as the Celtic festival of Samhain and the Ancient Roman festival of Saturnalia. The Winter Solstice (December 21st) marks the 1st day of many Pagan Winter Festivals. The 12 nights following and including the solstice represent the 12 zodiac signs of the year - and the 12th Night (New Years Day) is a culmination and celebration of the Winter Festivals."



Song of the Fool - from Mr Shakespeare's 'Twelfth Night'

When that I was and a little tiny boy,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

A foolish thing was but a toy,

For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man's estate,

With hey, ho, . . .

'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate

For the rain, . . .

But when I came, alas! to wive,

With hey, ho, . . .

By swaggering could I never thrive,

For the rain, . . .

But when I came unto my beds,

With hey, ho, . . .

With toss-pots still had drunken heads,

For the rain, . . .

A great while ago the world begun,

With hey, ho, . . .

But that's all one, our play is done.

And we'll strive to please you every day.


----------------------

Hi, Pam. Greetings from the NSW Central Coast.

I see you have referred to the phrase "The rain raineth".

A few months ago I wrote a couple of stories about its origin that you can find if you google them.

1. Rain raineth, but who wrote it?

2. Now we know who wrote The rain raineth

Best wishes, Eric. Author, The World's First Multi-National e-Book