Nil Satis Nisi Optimum

He sat back on the sofa
and
watched as his son’s tore
at the colorful paper
that snuggly surrounded their gifts,

wanting to savor this magical moment in time.

A slow smile spread across his face
as his eyes filled with tears,
for he knew
one day
these moments
would be replaced
with memories.

Happy New Year People! x

James and Tomas O’Brien would never clean their room.
It had been a month of Sundays and looked just like a tomb.
Bits of food and dirty socks, and grime around the walls.

Playthings from a year ago and broken footy balls.
Rats a-scratching through the piles of rubbish all round.
And Tomas and James snoring… the only living sound.

Rattus Rat lived just beneath the dirty, greasy sheet.
A half an inch from Tomas and James sleeping smelly feet.

Now rodents never really mind just what they nibble at,
And Rattus was very, very hungry little rat.

All he’d had to eat today was half a rotten pear,
A mouldy chip, an apple core, some chewing gum…. with hair.

The sleeping toe looked warm and fresh although a little smelly,
And gee! Rattus was hungry … there was rumbling in his belly.

So Rattus took a little nibble …oh! That tasted good!
It had been so long since Rattus’s food had tasted as it should.
Tomas and James still lay in repose.

While Rattus took another bite of Tomas’s toes.
First the big toe disappeared, and then the second toe,
And then the third, and then the fourth … only one to go.

But Tomas never even noticed through his doze.
That Rattus Rat was getting fat on Tomas and James toes.

When Tomas and James awoke they noticed that a foot had sort of … gone.
Instead of two bits on their legs, now there was just one.

They searched around the cluttered mess, but no feet could be found.
And Rattus Rat quietly sat … not making a sound.

“Mum!” Cried Tomas and James. “Hey Mum! My foot has disappeared!
It must be around somewhere! It’s really rather weird.

It was here when I went to bed, but it’s nowhere to be seen.
And now instead of standing up … we sort of … well LEAN!”

They searched the room from top to toe …
Oh dear! That was a pun!
But Tomas and James thought it was dreadful … not one iota fun.

They checked in every corner and swept up all the dust.
“We’ve got to find our foot!” they wailed. “We really, really must!”

“We’ll clean and polish, dust and shine, and tidy up our gear.”
“It can’t be very far away, it must be very near!”
But Tomas and James could never find their feet, polish as they would.
They even used a microscope … but that was just no good.

So the moral of this story of sadness and of gloom,
Is … make sure that it’s tidy before you set foot in your room.

The deepness of winter, cold and bright,
with unclad trees and blanket of white
it seems like spring is just a word
that we've not seen, but merely heard.

Those shivering trees so bare and stark
tremble and clatter in the dark;
and during the day they stretch and pray
for spring to hurry on its way.

Them clouds all seem to fly and flee
instead of drifting lazily
as they do with a springtime breeze,
which merely loves to play and tease.

The air is sharp and proud and brittle,
and chills you to your very middle;
it whips and pulls on windy days,
and chills the bones in other ways.

Even the sun is different somehow -
it's cold and distant, and wary now.

It peeks to see the world below,
decides it's not the time to show.

And so we bundle, wrap and cover,
thinking spring is just another
month or two away, thank Christ I’d say,
and onto new green grass we'll trod.

Yes, spring remains a magic word,
like that first red-breast robin bird;
like that first false-spring day so warm
that brings new hope to things forlorn.

My heart and bones and being yearn
to wave goodbye to winter stern;
and happily, joyfully, lovingly greet
Mistress Spring on winged' feet!

These Glass patio doors - my window to the world.

I feel the sunshine, and see the rain hurled.
A squirrel with a red tail chatters at me,
nibbles a corn cob, skitters up a tree.

A mouse so small quickly scurries on by,
right under my nose, so tiny and shy.

He fills up his cheeks just like a balloon,
is gone in a flash, but he'll be back soon.

The Robin and Goldfinch devour the seed,
Starlings and Blackbirds enjoying the feed.

And once in a while a hawk on the roam
will soar and swoop down close to our home.

At night the feisty Badgers gather 'round,
eat all our birdseed, pull feeders down;
but the biggest and best of them all are the deer,
I always can hear and smell when they're near.

My hair stands on end and I bark and I jump;
chased a fawn once, the doe stayed on my rump.

When the children come to spend some time,
I take care of them, for they are all mine.

I always go with my humans by car
to watch over them, wherever they are.

It's my job to take care of my family.
for you see, they're all the world to me.

It was the day after Christmas and no one was up,
I dreamed of some sleep and a hot coffee cup;
when what to my bleary-red eyes should appear
but a little old elf snaffling a beer!

"And what do you want?" I offered to him.
"Just a cold beer and pretzels," he said with a grin.
"And what do I get in return, little guy?"
"Whatever you wish!" said this elf from the sky.

So I pondered and pondered, and thought and thought...
Should I ask for a palace? Cold cash....or hot rocks?

Oh gosh, did my mind fill with visions of joy
and riches and jewels, and fun grown-up toys!

So I turned to begin on a list of my wishes.
and Lo! he was gone with some flashes and swishes!

But I heard him exclaim as he disappeared......
I fooled you! I fooled you! See you next year!

Hic* Hic* My Head Hurts!

For Christmas I bought my Auntie
A brand new wooden leg
I didn’t have it specially made
No I just got it off the peg
You may say it’s not a nice gift
Or even that it’s a killer
It wasn’t her main present though
It was just a stocking filler.

When I was a child
I believed in Santa Claus
When I got older
I didn’t believe in Santa Claus
When I became a parent
I was Santa Claus
Now I have grandchildren
I look like Santa Claus

It was the night before Christmas, and God it was neat

The kids were both in bed, and my wife was on heat

The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook

It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Mrs in her teddy, and I in the nude, had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry, That I lost my boner and me Mrs went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf, Tore back the shade while she played with herself.

The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built, Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.

With a fat little driver, half out of his sled, A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I'm speaking, he was as high as a kite.

And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right.

Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz, Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree, Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee.

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub, Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter, As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.

I was donning my jacket to cover my ass, When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore, He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.

That was some brothel, he said with a smile, The reindeer are pooped, and I'll just stay here awhile.

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink, Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee, The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack, But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits, The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find, And a six pair of panties, the edible kind.

A bra without nipples, a penis extension, And several other things that I shouldn't even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil, A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.

This suff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit, So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split.

He filled every stocking and then took his leave, With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve.

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead, Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch, Take me home Rudolph, this night's been a bitch!

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout, The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!

Merry Christmas one and all! Ho Ho

IT WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,
IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,

I HAD FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,
ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.

THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
NOT HOW I PICTURED A BRITISH SOLDIER.

WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED?

I REALIZED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE
WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.

THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.

THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY.

THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
SANTA DON'T CRY, THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;

I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM, I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY COMRADES.

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT, I CONTINUED TO WEEP.

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR SO WILLING TO FIGHT.

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,
WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, CARRY ON SANTA,
IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE;

ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH, AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT,

MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT. X

For MARTIN: MY SON SERVING IN AFGHANISTAN.

Look at me!"Well?" he demanded as he emerged in the new outfit.
The management consultants all wondered who would comment,
that he'd forgotten again the image he was supposed to present.

But they all saw his terseness as a very bad portent.

"Never mind," he did not wait for a response, "I want it in scarlet."

"But Satan..." said a consultant. It went silent at a canter

All eyes turned. There was no chatter, no banter.

He corrected with a sickly grin "I meant to say, of course, Santa."

Amazingly Satan, Oh I mean Santa grinned back "And don't you forget it?"

"Of course not." He didn't know whether to nod or to shake.

"But you are known for the colour." he added trying not to quake

"and we really don't want people to guess that you're a fake."

"As if." He was still grinning as if he was a half-wit.

And the rest all agreed that with his grasp of the role

he could wear any colour, even claim to live at the North Pole

and those gullible mortals would still swallow it whole.

"You'll have a devil of a time tracking down this piece of kit."

That was an imp now familiar with its new role as an elf.

"I have in fact asked Santa for one of these myself

but they just can't keep the stocks on the shelf."

"What's that? No we find that the kids often omit

what they really want till they've seen Old, um, St. Nick."

The elf watched the parents for the first signs of panic

then added "but I'm sure we could find you one if you sign quick."

It flourished a contract. "If you'll just initial this fifteen page chit."

"It's really just a formality." it explained with a wink
and pushed it into their hands before they had time to think.

"Here borrow my pen. Don't worry about the red ink."
Santa muttered "Well aren't you a little shining wit."

as the last of the children wandered away
having cracked the mince pie joke about what he must weigh

that he'd heard repeated throughout the day.

"So," he said to the elf, "How big is the profit?"

He waited while the elf struggled with its filo-fax
.
"Six hundred and sixty five souls, plus a grand profit after tax,"

said the elf and, as Santa grinned, knew it could relax.

"And," said Santa, "Here comes our chance to elicit
that one final soul that would give me a nice present."

Nodding towards the entrance and an accompanied infant
"Let the child in. You go to work on the parent."

"Now how old are you and what gifts have you come to solicit?"
The child thought. "Later this month I'll be ten."

This seemed to be it as it lapsed into silence again.
Then "Can you grant world peace and goodwill to all men."

The elf was hard at work, "We do easy terms and credit.”
but was getting nowhere the parent was adamant

the child didn't want a computer, a climbing frame, a tent.
The elf was struggling to understand the intent.

"Well little one, I think that's a little outside my remit.
But how about a game based on the latest Disney crop,
or a climbing frame. Just make sure you don't drop."

"No thanks. I just want the wars and the fighting to stop."

"It's so easy. Just sign here and here. It's not even in triplicate."

"You're not listening now are you? I'm not going to succumb.
We've already bought what he asked for, me and his mum.

I really don't know why he was so insistent to come."
"Now you're just being awkward, selfish, and inconsiderate.

The elves would be out of a job if there was no-one to buy."
The child just stared at him and then started to cry.

The parent rushed in and grabbed him. Glared on his way by.
"What is the world coming to? I find this charity quite inappropriate."

The imp happily removing his costume rushed to agree
"Well quite, I'd want material possessions if it was me.

But you just can't trust humans they're all mental you see.

And Santa remarked "I just don't know what's happened to the old Christmas spirit?"

He laid her on the table,
So white and clean and bare.

His forehead wet with beads of sweat,
He rubbed her here and there.

He touched her neck and then her breast,
And then he felt her thigh.

The slit was wet and all was set,
He gave a joyous cry.

The hole was wide and he looked inside,
All was dark and murky.

He rubbed his hands and stretched out his arms,

...And then he stuffed the turkey.

Please allow me to introduce myself I’m Santa's most Senior Elf.
I have a proposal to allow us both to secure fantastic wealth.

My former employer is now deceased due to a little incident.

His reindeer ate fermenting fruit causing a fatal flying accident.

He was to distribute presents to all the little girls and boys.

Now the warehouses stand quiet but still full of all the toys.

The lawyers say I must stay and manage the business and the grounds.
.
However my proposal is to sell all the toys for ONE HUNDRED MILLION UK POUNDS!

I think you must agree that this is quite an impressive amount.

But, not being human, the banks all say, I cannot have an account.

How do I sell the toys then? I reckon I need a human to assent.
to allow me access to their account for a return of ten per cent.

Do please keep this quiet, but let me know if you will be so chivalrous

to help me to help both of us have a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!

You Will Have To Think About This

* A famous writer once sent an unusual Christmas card to his friends. All it had printed on it was 25 letters
of the alphabet.

When some of the recipients admitted that they had failed to understand his message, he pointed to the letters on the card and said, 'Look! No L!'

“Merry Christmas” is what I choose to say
But other greetings are used for the day

By one and all during the festive season
And foreign languages are the reason

There's "Frolyke Kerstfeest" or "Joyoo Noel"
"Felleeth Navidad" even "Glaydlig Yool"

"Kalla Kristoogenna", "Boo-on Natarlee"
"Boas Festas" or "Sheng Dan Kwhy Lee"

You could say "Frerlicker Vine-akten"
Or maybe "Roshdesrom Kristovim" then

So you can say it in very many ways
But please never say "Happy Holidays"

It Wuz da nite befo Crimmus
An' all ower de hood;
Ereybody wuz' sleepin';
Dey wuz sleepin' good.

We hunged up our stockings
An hoped like de' heck
Dat ol' Sanna Claws
Be bringin' ar check.

All o' de fambly
Wuz layin in de beds,
Whilst Simpsons and Thunderbird
Dance tru' dey heads.

I passed out inna' flo
Right nex to my Mam;
When I herd sech a fuss,
I thunk, "It mus be da Law!"

I looked out thru da bars
What covered my do',
'Spectin da baliff
Wif a warrent fo' sho.

And what did I see,
I said, "Lawd, look at dat!"
They was a huge watta' melon,
Pulled by giant warf rats!

Now ober all de years
Sanna Claws, he be white;
But looks liken us bros
Gets a black Sanna dis nite.

Faster dan a po'lees car,
My homeboy he came;
He wupped on dem warf rats,
An' called dem by name!

"On Leroy, on 'Lonzo,
And on Willie Lee,
On Sapphire, on Chenequa,"
Dey wuz a site to see!

As he landed dat watta'mellon
Out der in da skreet,
I knowed it was fo' sho'
Da damdest site I ebber did see.

He didn't go down no chimbley,
He picked da' lock on my door';
An' I sez to mysef,
"Shit! He done dis before'!"

He had dis big bag,
Full of presents I 'spect;
Wid Nike Air Jordans and fake gold
To wear roun' my neck.

But he left no good prezents,
Jus' started steelin' my shit;
Got my drugs, got my guns,
Even got my burglar's kit!

Wit my stuff in da bag,
Out da winda he flewed;
I woudda' tried to catched him,
But he stoled my 'nife too!

He jumped on dat wadda'mellon,
An' wipped out a switch;
He wuz gone in a seccon',
Dat son of a bitch!

Next year I be hopin'
Anutha Sanna we git,
'Cuz diz here Sanna Claws
Jus' ain't werf a shit!

Look I've been getting ready for Christmas
I'm revving up for the great day
my credit card's cracked and my freezer is packed
'cause I started my shopping in May

The bin men have gotten quite friendly
they're after a present I fear
they won't feel so chuffed when I tell them - get stuffed
'cause they don't speak the rest of the year

The family is coming for dinner
last year it was quite a good laugh
we ate fairly late - dished the veg on the plate
found the turkey was still in the bath

The Kids are all pink with excitement
'cause Santa will come so they say
their lists are extensive - extremely expensive
and they'll break it all by Boxing day

But it's worth all that fuss Christmas morning
when their little eyes are all aglow
when we're all feeling merry full of goodwill and sherry
and suffering from wind Ho Ho Ho

But please don't forget why we do it
why each year we must go to this fuss
for that guy up above who brought peace and brought love
and who probably owns Toys R Us.!

A knight was expected to be gentle and faithful to his lady, fearless in battle and tournament, courteous and merciful to a defeated enemy and honourable in everything.

Lancelot, Ivanhoe, Robin Hood, and Joan of Arc, the very names ring with chivalry. The question then is "What is Chivalry?" The word comes from chevalerie which derives from cheval, French for horse. And the horse is what set the knight apart. Remember Richard III's cry in Shakespeare, "My kingdom for a horse."

The Europeans bred the draft-type horse up in size and strength to carry the ever increasing weight of an armour-bearing knight. Stirrups, which had been brought from the east in about the eighth century, stabilised this armoured, lance-bearing warrior astride his gigantic steed.

Before stirrups, you clung on as best you could. The shock attack of medieval knights was a weapon of great impact, indeed a military revolution on horseback.

The words "tournament" and "joust" are often used interchangeably. Strictly speaking "joust" describes single combat between two horsemen. "Tournament" refers to mounted combat between parties of knights, but also is used to refer to the whole proceeding.

The first written tournament guidelines are usually credited to a Frenchman named Geoffroi de Purelli in 1066. Unfortunately, he was killed at the very tournament for which he made the rules.

War, as a regular occupation for a gentleman, had many disadvantages. Although it was necessary, from time to time, to go to war in the service of one's liege lord, this included the disagreeable prospect of death or dysentery, sleeping on the cold, stony ground or baking in one's chain mail under a blazing sun.

There was excitement and renown to be won in war, but just as much renown could be won, at far less inconvenience, in the tournament of peace.

Tournaments were, at first, simply battles arranged on some pretext at a suitable rendezvous between parties of knights.

From these bloody conflicts there developed the tournament conducted according to a complex code of rules. In a tournament a knight could enjoy all the excitement, danger and glory of war, with none of the dirt, flies, disease or discomfort. After the fight he could soak his bruised, bloody limbs in a warm bath, eat a good dinner and retire, appropriately accompanied, to a soft bed.

In war he might win fame and fortune; in tournaments he could win these and much more. Fundamental to the tournament was the idea of chivalrous and romantic conduct. A knight selected a lady; beautiful and preferably married to a husband of slightly higher rank.

In her honour he would fight. If he fought successfully, he expected to receive his reward. It was considered downright disgraceful - absolute treachery - for a lady to refuse her favours to a knight who had fought in her honour.

Obviously, there was a direct conflict between the Christian ideal of monogamy and what can only be described as polite aristocratic adultery, which quickly brought the wrath of the Church upon all who participated.

The French excelled in this department, whereas in England, a tournament was regarded more as serious training for war. English contests became so savage that the Church of England eventually forbade the Christian burial of those killed in tournaments.

"Those who fall in tourneys will go to hell", scolded one monk. Tournaments were generally viewed with disapproval by the Church because they distracted the knights from the crusades, and by the state because of the unwarranted loss of life. Popes preached against them and Kings regarded them with unease, nervous about the potential threat a large gathering of military forces could impose on their politically unstable regions.

Both were quite powerless to stop them. The knights' enthusiasm was already too great and the powers-to-be were forced to extend a grudging tolerance to the new sport.

The Statute of Arms for Tournaments, established in 1292, helped curtail the bloodshed at tournaments. Under this edict all Knights were automatically considered gentlemen, rather like the Congressional edict in the United States that makes all armed forces commissioned personnel "officers and gentlemen".

They were required to abide by the ideas of chivalry and fair play, thus reducing the abhorrence of the church considerably.

At the end of the thirteenth century, when tournaments ceased to be miniature battles with no holds barred, they became organized spectacles, subject to accepted conventions and often fought with blunted weapons.

To kill a man in a tournament was considered wrong - or, at the very least, unfortunate. For killing a horse there was no excuse. The knight's object became one of knocking off their horses as many opponents as possible, and in the process, breaking as many lances as possible; obviously the more lances a knight broke, the greater must have been the force of his charge and the higher his level of horsemanship.

There were three kinds of tournaments prior to the 17th Century:

MELEE' or TOURNEY PROPER - popular in the twelfth and thirteenth century. This form was the most brutal and costly in lives. All participants, upon hearing the charge, promptly crashed onto the tournament field and proceeded to unhorse all others by any method at hand until a winner was determined.

INDIVIDUAL JOUST - an encounter with lances between two knights. The rules were simple. If a combatant struck either rider or horse he was disqualified. A clean hit to the centre or "boss" of the shield shattering the lance, or unseating the opponent scored points. A low partition wall separating contestants was introduced in about 1420 strictly as a measure to reduce injury to horses.

PRACTICE TOURNAMENT - Involved very little ceremony and few rules. Practice targets were provided by either a quintain or rings. The quintain was a wooden target mounted on a horizontal pole at which the knight aimed his lance. If the target was struck accurately, it would swing harmlessly aside; if struck off centre, the weighted arm swung around with enough velocity to unseat the knight.

The other form of jousting in the practice tournament was "riding at the rings", the surviving form of jousting with which we are most concerned. A ring was suspended on a cord, which was to be carried off on the tip of the knight's lance.

Both the quintain and the ring joust were exercises that developed accuracy skills. These skills became increasingly important as individual jousts gained popularity.

The huge melee' tournament which had dominated the twelfth and most of the thirteenth centuries began to lose popularity as the small-scale joust emerged towards the end of the thirteenth century.

Jousting came to be a sport where the correct physical co-ordination of horse and rider resulted in a safe but spectacular splintering of lances. The manipulation of a powerful horse and a heavy lance, complicated by the restricted movement and vision imposed by armour, was a skill acquired only with patient practice at such devices as the quintain and the ring.

Furthermore, it is probable that riding at the rings was perceived also as a display of chivalric romance. Winning knights were awarded customary "golden rings" along with kisses, in a formal and elaborate prize-giving ceremony by the ladies of the court, who had rapidly, became central to the whole ideal of knighthood during the fourteenth century.

The ring tournament has survived the longest. Accounts of famous festivals during the sixteenth and seventeenth century, including King's Day in honour of James I during the 1600s in England, list at least nine festival occasions where "running at the rings" was featured.

Knowledge of these affairs was carried to the colonies by English cavaliers and officers in the mid-seventeenth century.

Black Death and Leprosy

The two most curious epidemics during the Middle Ages were Black Death and leprosy. Due to the specific environmental circumstances of medieval Europe and the religion of medieval people, these two epidemics had great social repercussions.

Black Death

In early 1347, a fearful epidemic of bubonic plague broke out in Constantinople. From then on, this great plague would reach Europe and kill approximately from one-fourth to nine-tenths of the human population in the affected areas.

What is the Black Death, also known as the Black Plague, Bubonic Plague, or just the Plague? From a modern medical point of view, it is a pneumonic type of an infection, highly contagious, which could be transmitted via inhalation, ingestion, or even slight abrasion of skin.

Usually, lung lesions occur, hearth and kidneys turn into fatty goo, and death may occur from hearth failure. The walls of blood vessels are attacked frequently causing haemorrhages and acute blood poisoning. It is fatal in almost all cases.

Why such name, Black Death? "The traditional belief is that it was so called because the putrefying flesh of the victims blackened in the final hours before death supervened. The trouble about this otherwise plausible theory is that no such phenomenon occurred. It is true that, in cases of septicemic plague, small black or purple blotches formed on the bodies of the sick and this symptom must have made a vivid impression on beholders".

The position of a medieval doctor faced with Black Death was that of certainty that the air surrounding the infected area is at fault. Because the Plague would attack a particular region, kill off everyone within it, and then move on to an adjacent region, the circulating and moving air was blamed for the deaths.

The idea of the infection of the atmosphere dates back to Galen; what is shocking is the fact that no medieval doctor formed a logical explanation for Black Death, which would interfere with the poisoned atmosphere theory. Details of the symptoms were gathered by many in literary forms, yet surprisingly, nobody bothered to put together all the information and logically analyse the occurrences at hand.

Eventually, not being able to deny the evidence of their own eyes, people started to make a connection between an infected person and the increasing number of the infected around that person. Given the disgusting nature of the disease itself and its apparent infectiousness, the infected individuals instead of received pity were ostracised.
During the later months of Black Death in Europe, it was common to see unburied corpses piled on top of each other in dug up holes.

In addition to actual contact with an infected person, rats and fleas played a role in spreading the disease. The rats were basically used as transport for the fleas who would not mind living partially on humans, partially on rats. This way, enough bacteria from one person could be easily transported to another by the means of a flea. The rats provided for easier spread of the disease on a larger geographical scale.

No cure has been found for the Plague in the Middle Ages, although on occasion, the more glory-seeking doctors would visit hospitals or the sick in other areas and speak up their thoughts on this illness, mostly in order to have their voice heard and obtain fame within the medical world.

Leprosy

Leprosy is an infectious disease caused by Mycobacterium leprae, a first cousin of tuberculosis bacteria.

Unlike tuberculosis, leprosy bacteria cannot be grown outside living animal cells, and even within them they multiply very slowly; they can remain dormant, alive but inactive, for a long time. Leprosy bacteria probably spread from person to person as readily as tuberculosis, but disease less often follows, both because the bacteria are less virulent and because most people have a high degree of natural resistance to the disease.

Why then, such panic about it during the Middle Ages? First of all, as scary as leprosy sounds, we cannot be sure that what is described, as leprosy was in fact this particular disease in the Middle Ages. It seems that this name was given oftentimes to many other disfiguring diseases.

This is a great example of the underlying principles of medieval European world; more often than not, in cases of disfigurement it was not the actual educated doctors who would diagnose a patient. But rather it would be the priests or even the common people who would become the arbiters of the disease. The cure for leprosy was not known and the treatment prescribed was usually isolation.

Lepers were usually banned to leper hospitals or leper communities. "Throughout medieval Europe admission fees, gifts, tolls, and taxes helped to support leper hospitals, although their wealth depended mainly upon endowments".

In many cases, leper hospitals housed as well the poor and other sick, who were not fearful enough of leprosy but hungry enough to risk infection.

In many cases, leprosy would mean separation from family, from husband or wife. Some European countries would allow the spouse to join the leper or divorce may be a solution. This was a difficult decision, for under law, a leper held no rights, and under Church doctrines, a leper was considered dead. A spouse of a leper had to decide whether to abandon his or her chosen life partner or join them in non-existence.

Additionally, if a wife and husband decided to leave together, they might have a hard time finding a leper colony that would accept both males and females, as such colonies were usually gender biased.

A leper in a leper colony would more often than not suffer from depression due to sudden abandon of known circle of family and friends, and the new unfamiliar surroundings. In addition, a leper, as opposed to any other sick person in the Middle Ages, could not expect visits, for leprosy was thought to be extremely contagious.

With time, leper colonies and hospitals suffered a decline. In the early 16th century, the leper population was practically non-existent.

This is mostly due to Black Death, which has killed a great portion of the population, including the already sick (and possibly more prone to the disease) lepers.

"Damn medieval plumbing!"

Toilet facilities in the Middle Ages may not have been as primitive as previously thought.

Hole truth

This Loo "was state of the art. The pit was covered to stop smells filtering upwards. On the street of course the filth was everywhere but in the homes of nobles, cleanliness was paramount,"

Lesser mortals of course had less sophisticated apparatus - also based on the principle of sending faeces into free-fall, but this time into the open air.

Some were no more than holes built into the wall, others were primitive outhouses perched with wooden supports onto an upper story.

Accidents in these contraptions were common.

Hair loss mixture

As for wiping material, John the Fearless had the advantage of a supply cotton and linen rags. Ordinary people used a plant known as common mullein, whose leaves - though hardly absorbent - were pleasantly soft.

An example grows in the tower's garden for visitors to test.

"Hygiene in the Middle Ages" has plenty of other interesting information about how our ancestors kept themselves clean.

Soap came in two kinds - black and white, coral and cuttlebones were used for teeth, shampoo was made from fern-ash, vine stalks and egg-white - and after the Crusades the novel idea of all-body depilation took on.

Medieval source books quote a recipe of quick-lime, bean-flour, urine and sulphurate of arsenic as a useful hair-remover. Modern-day doctors say don't recommend it.

"In the Middle Ages using water on the body was seen as a source of cleanliness and purity - literally as well as religiously,"

"It was only much later that a different mentality arrived which feared exposure to air and water, and believed the body's goodness had to be heavily protected from outside elements,"

Perhaps this explains the generally recognised decline in French hygiene standards in subsequent centuries.

In the court of the Sun King in Versailles for example courtiers were reduced to squatting in corners because of the lack of facilities.

In the early 20th century Parisian women were renowned for their foul odour, which they covered up with copious amounts of perfume.

This was largely an architectural problem, with old buildings being divided up into scores of apartments to accommodate the burgeoning masses.

Phew!

Christmas is a wonderful time of year to enjoy the company of family and friends, who are often living in many different locations around the globe. The Spirit of Christmas is celebrated with the best of wine and food, and often follows traditions of the past.

Increasingly, the fare is changing and is becoming more representative of the climate and the cuisine that is available at that time of year.

The Knights of the Round Table certainly knew how to entertain!

Christmas - a reflection of the Grandeur of Medieval England

Feasting and revelry, tournaments and jousting-this was the pattern of the medieval Christmas, and unlike Christmas today it was by no means limited to a mere two or three days of celebration, to be followed a week later by a sometimes half-hearted welcome to the New Year. In those far-off times hospitality was rough but magnificent and the festivities would last for a fortnight or more, when the barons and knights kept open house.

But it was on Christmas Day that the grand feast, given by the feudal chieftain to his friends and retainers would take place with all the pomp and ceremony he could muster. Most important of the dishes served up on this great occasion would be the boar's head. With this the banquet commenced, and heralded by a fanfare of trumpets, and to the strains of the minstrels, the chief serving man carried it into the banqueting hall on a plate of gold or silver, for no meaner metal was acceptable. Behind him came a stately procession of nobles, knights and ladies, and as they followed him to the table he sang:

Caput apri defero,
Reddens laudes Domino.
The hoar's head in hand bring I
With garlands gay and rosemary;
I pray you all sing merrily,
Qec estis in convivio.

The boar's head would be magnificently garnished with herbs and bay leaves, with either a large apple speared on the end of each tusk or else an orange placed between them. Mustard was considered an indispensable accompaniment and, indeed, when many centuries later the parliaments of the Commonwealth tried to put an end to Christmas feasting, and with it the traditional boar's head, it was from the mustard sellers that the loudest complaints came.

Of course, Parliament did not succeed in banishing the Christmas festivities forever, and though with the Restoration most of the age-old customs came back, the boar's head never regained its supreme place at the Christmas table.

Second only in importance to the boar's head at the medieval Christmas feast was the peacock, and infinite care and patience was needed for its preparation before, in all its glory, it was carried to the table. First the skin was stripped off very carefully in order to leave the plumage undamaged; then the bird was stuffed with spices and sweet herbs, basted with yoke of egg, and roasted.

When cooked and partially cooled it was sewn up again in its feathers, the beak gilded, and it was then ready for the table. Sometimes the plumage, too, was covered with gold leaf and a piece of cotton, saturated with spirits, placed in its beak and set alight.

By Cock & Pie

The privilege of bringing in the peacock was given to the lady-guests most distinguished by birth or beauty. To the sound of music, one of them would carry it into the dining hall-the others following in due order-and place it before the master of the house or his most honoured guest. This was the sign for the tournament to begin, and the victor in the lists was then expected to show his skill in carving the peacock.

On some occasions the bird would be served in a pie, its plumed head appearing above the crust at one end, and its magnificent fanned tail at the other. It was over this splendid dish that the knights-errant were supposed to swear, in the best traditions of chivalry, that they would undertake whatever perilous enterprise came their way-and from this old custom comes the oath of Shakespeare's day, "By cock and pie!"

Boar's head and peacock were but two of the many dishes that graced the medieval Christmas table. There would be geese and capons as well, pheasants drenched in ambergris, carps' tongues and-almost a national dish-furmante. Sometimes it is referred to as frumenty, or furmety, but whatever its name, it was made to the same traditional recipe. The basic ingredient was wheat, pounded till it could be separated from the husks, and then simmered for several hours. When cool, "clean fresh broth" was added, then milk or sweet milk of almonds, and the yokes of eggs; it was heated again, and was then ready to be served with the venison or fresh mutton.

Venison was rarely served without it, but furmante sweetened with sugar, and presumably the "clean fresh broth" being omitted, was a favourite dish of itself.

In later times there were to come those things which are today an essential part of the Christmas fare-the mince pies and Christmas pudding, which were first known as mutton pies (or Christmas pies), and plum porridge. As early as 1596 mutton pies were an established favourite; later on neats tongues were substituted for the mutton, but otherwise the remaining ingredients were much the same as those used today. Plum porridge, or plum pottage, was served with the first course of the Christmas dinner.

It was made by boiling beef or mutton with broth, thickened with brown bread; when half boiled, raisins, currants, prunes, cloves, mace and ginger were added, and when it had all been thoroughly boiled it was sent to the table as an accompaniment to the best meats.

Plum pudding, however, seems to have been much more up-to-date, and a recipe published in 1675 is almost identical with the modern one both as regards the ingredients and the cooking, which is by boiling the pudding in a basin. By Addison's time, plum porridge and plum pudding were of equal importance, and he went so far as to write that of neither does any man "of the most rigid virtue give offence by an excess ... because they are the first parts of the dinner."

But the Englishman's feasting was not limited to the Christmas season-in fact, he had the reputation of "living well" all the year round.

A much travelled writer of the early seventeenth century, who was familiar with most countries of Europe, wrote with great enthusiasm of the immense variety of food in England and (in contrast to our reputation today!) of the much higher standard of cooking compared with other countries on the Continent.