Welcome to my post for the Historical Writers Forum #Jolabokaflod Blog Hop.
This #Jolabokaflod (Christmas Book Flood) Blog Hop is an exciting way for HWF members to share a bit of their writing, especially if it's set at Christmas time. It's also about entering into the tradition of gifting of a book since that's what the Icelandic #Jolabokaflod is all about. The gift of a book for Christmas Eve means a fabulous excuse to settle down, read and just....enjoy!
You'll find details of my gift for you at the end of the post.
Most of the Blog Hop contributions, so far, have included excerpts that are set during the Christmas period. I have just a wee bit of a problem with that because I've never included a 'Christmas' scene in any of my historical Celtic Fervour Series novels, or in my time-travel historical The Taexali Game. Since my historical novels are set in the late 1st C AD, and early 3rd C AD, my historical characters led a much more pagan lifestyle. In their day, a Christmas celebration - as is presently celebrated - was not yet invented.
My two main characters are Keira Drummond from Edinburgh and Teun Zeger, an American of Dutch descent.
Keira, initially, has no idea why she's been included in the Hoogeveen family quest. She's not descended from the Hoogeveeens but she soon realises that she did know one of them quite well - an old lady named Neela.
It IS Teun's family but he knows very little of his grandmother Marijke's life in Holland before she moved to the U.S. in the early 1930s.
Keira and Teun pair-up to see if they can find any traces of the jewels in his uncle's house in Minnesota, and in items belonging to Teun's father who is currently in a nursing home. Though Keira and Teun have only met very recently, there's a little bit of a sizzle happening...
[Note: Teun's aunt was Marta (his father's sister); his grandmother was Marijke; and his great-grandmother was Martine. Neela, it transpires, was Marijke's sister.]
***
A pile of letters from the loft landed with a soft plop in Keira's lap, while Teun tackled the smaller pile from his dad’s stored possessions.
It struck her as being an infringement of privacy to read
letters sent to his Aunt Marta, but Teun decided it was necessary. The first few were
from friends: nothing in them about jewellery, or any historical references.
A small pile of carefully folded papers lay on her lap, tied
with a faded pink ribbon. Reverently untying the bow, she opened the first one.
It wasn’t in English. She wasn’t familiar with the dialect and reread the first
paragraph again before it clicked she wasn’t reading German. Of course! It was
written in Dutch. Confirmation came when the sender’s name was revealed. She
just as carefully undid the rest of the pile and laid them flat on her knee:
all from the same sender.
Martine!
“Teun!” She nudged him with her knee. “This pile is to your grandmother Marijke from her mother, Martine.” As up in the loft, she couldn’t contain her
excitement. Surely the letters had to have significant information?
He shifted beside her and lifted the first one, saying
nothing till after he’d scanned it. Disappointment wafted from him. “I can read
the Martine at the bottom, but nothing else.”
Keira absorbed his silent question as his grey eyes
deepened, his brows a tight frown.
“I can make a reasonable guess at some of it, but I’d much
rather it was properly translated by someone who is Dutch.”
“We can do it later.” Teun’s voice was clipped. “Let’s see
what you can come up with first. Are you willing to try?”
They sat in front of Keira’s laptop, all six letters
smoothed flat. In no time at all she’d downloaded a Dutch dictionary. She then
made sure the letters were read in date order of earliest first; thinking that
if it was her mother who wrote to her, the first letters would be about more
practical things – like settling into a new home in a new country.
That was exactly what Martine’s first three letters were
like, the letters over a period of three months during 1934. It was a
multiplicity of questions which Keira was able to translate; reflections of
day-to-day living. Both she and Teun found Martine’s writing style amusing as
she translated, written Dutch much easier for her to read than she had
expected, many words being similar enough to German though the grammatical
structure was not alike. In the letters, Martine asked Marijke lots of
questions, but also posed what appeared like enquiries about her own exploits.
She’d written things like… I suppose
you’ll not guess who I met at the Opera last week. Whether Marijke had been
interested or not, the answer followed in a flowing style.
“Look, Teun!” She almost jabbed her finger through the
fragile paper. “Martine’s talking about Neela bringing Gabriel Henke to their
house.”
“Don’t keep it a secret.” He looked amused since she was all
but hopping up and down on her chair. “Read it to me.”
“Give me a minute.” She mumbled at first, focusing on the
meaning of a phrase she’d no clue of. A few clicks later, she turned to him.
She couldn’t stop grinning. “I think she says something like… Neela brought this little know-all of a man
home and introduced him to us. Marijke? You can have no idea of the dread in my
stomach. He clearly adores our Neela, but he’s the funniest looking little man.
His smile is constantly like the child who has won the only treat from
Sinterklaas.”
“Who?” Teun nudged her to get an answer, since she was
laughing her head off.
“St. Nicholas. Were you never told about Sinterklaas coming to little kids on the
5th December and giving the children gifts; sort of early Christmas
presents?”
He struggled with an elusive memory. “Grandma told us lots
of things. I don’t remember anything about this Sinterklaas guy, but she did say her Dutch traditions didn’t always
fit well in Minnesota.”
She clapped him on the shoulder in commiseration, her
chuckle whispering at his ear. “Ah well, that’s maybe because Sinterklaas comes up to Holland by boat
from Spain, with all his booty in his sack…so maybe your grandmother thought
coming across the Atlantic was just a bit too much, too far-fetched? And
perhaps it’s why she embraced American traditions like Thanksgiving, which is
quite close to Sinterklaas Day.”
They continued with the letter, Teun interrupting
occasionally for clarification. “So, was Gabriel a weird looking guy?”
***
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| Sinterklaas -Oude Pekela, Gronigen |
The tradition of Sinterklaas arriving by boat lives on in Holland. The image below is of him arriving at Tilburg in 2019. It's generally in the late afternoon, or early evening of Dec. 5th that the kids in Holland receive presents from Sinterklaas. (prior to St. Nicholas' Saint Day on 6th Dec)
My own children were too young to remember the occasion now, but one year when we lived in Holland, we visited friends on Dec. 5th. Their kids were a little older and had learned about Sinterklaas at their Kleuters class (pre-school/Nursery) Sinterklaas very kindly stopped by the house and not only left a gift in the kids' shoes left out on the porch, but Sinterklaas and his Swartje Piet helpers popped in to the house to meet the kids. (This happened in 1981, but nowadays Sinterklaas' Piet helpers no longer wear the 'Swartje' blackening make-up that was once traditional.)
On that occasion our Sinterklaas and his helpers were my friend's Dutch neighbour and his sons. A pretty usual circumstance at the time, and possibly still the case.
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| Sinterklaas arriving by boat from Spain- 2019 Piushaven canal- Tilburg |
Dec 18th Tim Hodkinson
http://timhodkinson.blogspot.com
Dec 19th Salina Baker
Dec 20th Paula Lofting
www.paulaloftinghistoricalnovelist.wordpress.com
Dec 21st Nicky Moxey
Dec 22nd Samantha Wilcoxson
samanthawilcoxson.blogspot.com
Dec 23rd Jen Black
JEN
BLACK (jenblackauthor.blogspot.com)
Dec 24th Lynn Bryant
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