She keeps looking up at the mistletoe when we are out for our walks and sighing a bit. When I asked her why, she said that when she was younger, the mistletoe was one of the first bits of Christmas that she would bring home.
Now, I have to say, it doesn’t look all that Christmassy to me… just little white balls that she says I am not allowed to play with or eat… But ‘pparently, the stuff is romantic.
Not, she says, just because you get to kiss people who stand underneath it… but because it has history. It is one of the Druidic sacred woods… perhaps even the fabled Golden Bough that Aeneas had to pluck to visit the land of the dead. I’ve no doubt she would go off into loads of detail and speculation here, but it’s my post and its Christmas… so you can…
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