tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41168066289221067112024-02-18T22:20:50.826-05:00History was never like that!History has been used by politicians, special interest groups and others for propaganda throughout the ages. History is the most misunderstood subject and is used to manipulate people into war, harbor prejudices and continue practices that are not good for society.Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-42930364406567300052011-10-21T14:44:00.001-04:002011-10-21T14:46:11.782-04:00Mary Boleyn by Alison Weir - Random House<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWE2ZSJBE22XdoeFFL9U0wn568d96skst8t9bNe4BUQh3OfydflvsWGwnFFjO_njS_eWmn7cAcz96mnqiv7wxHBglJTWeJkTzHMucsQPBcaveyaqnost40KWE_t4UVqRXAdacEbQHDQkhp/s1600/Mary+Boleyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWE2ZSJBE22XdoeFFL9U0wn568d96skst8t9bNe4BUQh3OfydflvsWGwnFFjO_njS_eWmn7cAcz96mnqiv7wxHBglJTWeJkTzHMucsQPBcaveyaqnost40KWE_t4UVqRXAdacEbQHDQkhp/s320/Mary+Boleyn.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yea, I totally ripped this off from the Random House website.</td></tr>
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First, I would like to say I'm back after a long a difficult pregnancy. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and now I'm ready to get back into action. I love Alison Weir and she has a new book out about Mary Boleyn. I'll have to get it from the library.<br />
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<a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/book/201565/mary-boleyn-by-alison-weir/9780345521330/">Mary Boleyn by Alison Weir - Random House</a><br />
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<div class="cse-branding-right" style="background-color: white; color: black;"><div class="cse-branding-form"><form action="http://http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/" id="cse-search-box"><div><input name="cx" type="hidden" value="partner-pub-6770890207532148:8efjghbzb31" /> <input name="cof" type="hidden" value="FORID:10" /> <input name="ie" type="hidden" value="ISO-8859-1" />Long time no write. Life has been busy, busy, busy lately, however I've had time to read a book. Why does this not shock anyone? Because I'm a book a'holic, that's why. I've tried getting help for this affliction, but the desire overpowers me. sigh.....<br />
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As for the book I've been reading, it contains interesting recipes and tidbits about daily life in Elizabethan England. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Elizabethan-England-Greenwood-Through-History/dp/031329335X?ie=UTF8&tag=hist0f-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">Daily life in Elizabethan England</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=hist0f-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=031329335X" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" width="1" /> by Jeffery Singman is over fifteen years old, but still a goodie. While the book explains how to play Elizabethan card games, sing songs and play music, my favorite part is the bread recipe.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne Boleyn recommends this bread recipe. (She was known for her good taste, after all)</td></tr>
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While "refined" flour was available in Elizabethan times, only the wealthy could afford it. So most bread was made of whole wheat four. If you've only baked with white flour, you may not know that whole grain flour requires a bit more water. Keep in mind that the dough should be moist, but not sticky. Enjoy baking this bread and tell me how it turns out.<br />
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3 cups of unbleached white or whole wheat flour<br />
1 teaspoon of active dry yeast<br />
1 teaspoon of salt<br />
1 cup of lukewarm (not scalding) water or beer<br />
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Dissolve one teaspoon of yeast in one cup of water or beer and stir in the salt. Make a well in the flour and pour the yeast mixture into it. Knead for five minutes. Let the dough rise for an hour (a warm, but not hot radiator works wonders). Form the dough into a round loaf and prick it with a knife (this allows it to rise higher). Cover and let it rise until double in bulk than preheat the oven to 500 degrees Fahrenheit. (high temperatures create a harder crust and a softer middle). Before placing the dough into the oven, reduce the heat to 350 and bake until golden brown. Eat, enjoy and tell me how it tastes.</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-2804100029577102612011-02-09T18:54:00.001-05:002011-02-09T18:56:11.944-05:00Something To Say: Stupidity, Humans, Food<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pope Benedict recommends the pasta carbonara. Really, it's to die for!</td></tr>
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Food is my second love, behind history of course. I love this blog because it encourages us to take back our kitchens and not rely on "fake food." Bon Appetit!<br />
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<a href="http://ruhlman.com/2011/02/usda-guidelines-opinion.html">Something To Say: Stupidity, Humans, Food</a>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-18880842460965203352011-02-08T13:23:00.001-05:002011-02-08T13:26:12.937-05:00I never got this lucky when I did home improvements.<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_8KszARI9kxhR11FMkczQuzsC3Jvfu4AHUVH_zQTNswU7GNc4iGlZ3rlFn9-8mhpio21F311M4EqQM5hU1dsDoqfOiRejtmlYFaUFQUg9wVf18xQXG1eKhbdtOA9R4nBlg6_vwTKpYr7/s1600/henry+VIII.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_8KszARI9kxhR11FMkczQuzsC3Jvfu4AHUVH_zQTNswU7GNc4iGlZ3rlFn9-8mhpio21F311M4EqQM5hU1dsDoqfOiRejtmlYFaUFQUg9wVf18xQXG1eKhbdtOA9R4nBlg6_vwTKpYr7/s320/henry+VIII.jpg" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Somerset couple found a mural of Henry VIII in their home.</td></tr>
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Some people have all the luck. Several years ago, after my husband and I moved into our 1920's era house, we started to remove the grandma inspired wall paper. Layer after painful layer, we were exposed to the hideous decorating choices of our predecessors. Seriously, when was it ever fashionable to have diarrhea brown and pee yellow striped wall paper? Who ever thought that this was a good color combination should have been placed in the tower or at least lost their wall paper design job. It makes you wonder if incontinence was an issue for a previous owner. Yes... an unsettling thought.<br />
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Moving on...After the final layer of wall paper was removed, we saw a beautiful white plaster wall. If you've ever removed wall paper, you understand that it is truly breathtaking. Call the art experts, because this is a sight truly to behold. A bare plaster wall from a 1920's condo, however, doesn't hold a candle to a recently discovered mural of Henry VIII in a private residence.<br />
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A couple in Somerset, England were renovating their home and after chipping away layers of wood paneling, discovered a mural painted of Henry VIII sitting upon his throne. Obviously the couple and art historians are excited by this find saying that the mural is, "enormously significant, stunningly exciting and of national importance"<br />
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Yea... why couldn't I have found a mural of President Herbert Hoover or Franklin Roosevelt in my living room? Think of the resale value that would have added to my home? Now, instead of an art treasure, I have beige walls and the memory of incontinence inspired wall paper. <br />
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<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-somerset-12306904">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-somerset-12306904</a></div></form></div></div><br />
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</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-2822175260770565882011-02-03T09:49:00.000-05:002011-02-03T09:49:40.530-05:00It's the End...Or Is It the Beginning?<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_8KszARI9kxhR11FMkczQuzsC3Jvfu4AHUVH_zQTNswU7GNc4iGlZ3rlFn9-8mhpio21F311M4EqQM5hU1dsDoqfOiRejtmlYFaUFQUg9wVf18xQXG1eKhbdtOA9R4nBlg6_vwTKpYr7/s1600/henry+VIII.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_8KszARI9kxhR11FMkczQuzsC3Jvfu4AHUVH_zQTNswU7GNc4iGlZ3rlFn9-8mhpio21F311M4EqQM5hU1dsDoqfOiRejtmlYFaUFQUg9wVf18xQXG1eKhbdtOA9R4nBlg6_vwTKpYr7/s320/henry+VIII.jpg" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"For many, I was as dangerous as an ice storm."</td></tr>
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Last night during a treacherous ice storm, I watched the series finale of the Tudors. Many had seen the finale months ago, but I don't have cable and have to wait for a copy from the library. After months of waiting, I wasn't disappointed. In fact, it seemed fitting that I should watch the finale during one of the most dangerous ice storms in recent memory.<br />
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Henry VIII could be describe as an ice storm. Before the storm commenced, birds chipped, the sun shone brightly and if you haven't seen the weather report, you would swear spring was on its way. Henry's reign began with much promise. He was a true Renaissance king, intelligent,well-read, athletic and handsome. The sun shone brightly for England, but weather and kings can change in a heart beat.<br />
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The ice storm came, encasing the world in a cold tomb. The ice was more destructive than fire, destroying monasteries, religious shrines and the laws of England. When a lull in the storm came, people relaxed. Hoping that the worst was over. However, the ice wasn't easily defeated. <br />
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As the ice storm raged and as prayers ascended to heaven, the thought of tomorrow frightened many. Will the storm ever end? What will the damages be? Will we ever return to normal? As suddenly as the ice storm began, it stopped with a ray of sun shining through. Perhaps the future won't be so bleak after all. A new king has been crowned and a new day is dawning. Long live the king!</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-2623731552857995692011-01-30T11:26:00.001-05:002011-01-30T11:28:02.286-05:00Hell has frozen over: Lutheran leader invites Pope to participate in anniversary of the Reformation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why should I miss out on all the fun?</td></tr>
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Luther is rolling in his grave and the end of the world is at hand. How else can you explain this weird event? The year 2017 will mark the 500<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> anniversary of the beginning of the Reformation and the Lutheran World Federation has invited Pope Benedict to help plan the festivities. Yes, you heard that right. The pope will help celebrate the beginning of the Reformation. Perhaps the pope or the Lutheran World Federation has gone mad? Or maybe the pope doesn't want to miss out on a good party. After all, the party is going to be in Germany and we all know how well they party. <br />
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<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Actually</span> it isn't too shocking, since Lutherans and Catholics have made great ecumenical strides in the past decades. In 1999, an historic document was signed pertaining to the doctrine of justification by faith. Both Catholics and Lutherans, "share the conviction that the message of justification directs us in a special way towards the heart of the New Testament witness to God’s saving action in Christ: it tells us that as sinners our new life is solely due to the forgiving and renewing mercy that God imparts as a gift and we receive in faith, and never can merit in any way."<br />
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For those of you who attend, I will be insanely jealous. Just think of me when you play a riveting game of pin the thesis on the church door and eat some delicious heretic potato pancakes!<br />
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<a href="http://www.christiantoday.com/article/lutheran.leader.invites.pope.to.participate.in.anniversary.of.the.reformation/27263.htm">Lutheran leader invites Pope to participate in anniversary of the Reformation | Christian News on Christian Today</a><br />
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<div class="cse-branding-right" style="background-color: white; color: black;"><div class="cse-branding-form"><form action="http://http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/" id="cse-search-box"><div><input name="cx" type="hidden" value="partner-pub-6770890207532148:8efjghbzb31" /> <input name="cof" type="hidden" value="FORID:10" /> <input name="ie" type="hidden" value="ISO-8859-1" /> <input name="q" size="31" type="text" /></div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-33539428329638556842011-01-25T15:15:00.001-05:002011-01-25T15:20:16.872-05:00Tea at Trianon: The Boring One?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWGd9_QU2JPMZ8JbAP0ytmHa4N0ET2xCoFG0p2EW24NMyyWeufdYCpWjFLC6PAlJ4WMMdj39HHKxe5yyeG4areNAN93EcgyqL1rNGUY8ybUtOloPOt8WK1qG4n84A3D6Q9xAmZMRkX2PR/s1600/k_aragon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWGd9_QU2JPMZ8JbAP0ytmHa4N0ET2xCoFG0p2EW24NMyyWeufdYCpWjFLC6PAlJ4WMMdj39HHKxe5yyeG4areNAN93EcgyqL1rNGUY8ybUtOloPOt8WK1qG4n84A3D6Q9xAmZMRkX2PR/s320/k_aragon.jpg" width="204" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferocious as a tiger, sweet as a lamb, determined to a fault and as charitable as a saint, all describe Catherine of Aragon</td></tr>
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If you haven't checked out the discussion yet over at Tea at Trianon, please do. It is a rousing debate on Catherine of Aragon's personality and the origin of Henry VIII's cruelty. <br />
<br />
I think I had a little to much fun, but I felt I was back in my college history classes. This is why I love blogging.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://teaattrianon.blogspot.com/2011/01/boring-one.html">Tea at Trianon: The Boring One?</a><br />
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<div class="cse-branding-right" style="background-color: white; color: black;"><div class="cse-branding-form"><form action="http://http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/" id="cse-search-box"><div><input name="cx" type="hidden" value="partner-pub-6770890207532148:8efjghbzb31" /> <input name="cof" type="hidden" value="FORID:10" /> <input name="ie" type="hidden" value="ISO-8859-1" /> <input name="q" size="31" type="text" /></div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-243336162506245092011-01-25T14:44:00.000-05:002011-01-25T14:44:43.289-05:00Warning...More of my Poetry. Run If You Have Too!<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will not be riding into <a href="http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/2010/10/move-over-xena-queen-isabella-was-true.html">battle</a> like Queen Isabella did when she was pregnant. I know, I'm a total slacker</td></tr>
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I've been participating in the Month of Poetry, which requires me to write a poem each day. I dream of being a writer and the only way to get better is to not be afraid of myself and write. I won't lie. I've failed miserably at writing each day. The poems I have written, mostly refer to my current condition of pregnancy. <br />
<br />
While pregnancy is a beautiful thing, I'm not in the blissful stage of pregnancy yet, where I can feel the movement of my baby. Instead, I'm in the morning sickness, fatigue and all around yuckiness state. Oh, and blogger is telling me that yuckiness isn't a word. I beat blogger has never been pregnant.<br />
<br />
I would like to share a poem that doesn't include vomiting or about how much time I spend in the bathroom. Please forgive the amateurish tone. I am learning...<br />
<br />
A swollen belly,<br />
mind numbing fatigue,<br />
a sore back,<br />
aching breast,<br />
<br />
Signs of life<br />
Signs of love<br />
Signs of continuity<br />
<br />
From one generation to the next,<br />
each woman has suffered thus<br />
with a cheerfulness in her heart<br />
and a bosom full of love<br />
<br />
First came Eve,<br />
than billions hence<br />
of nameless women bearing souls<br />
<br />
A soul to be nurtured<br />
a soul to be loved<br />
a soul who will know Christ's love<br />
<br />
Cherish motherhood<br />
cherish love<br />
cherish children,<br />
who are a gift from above.<br />
<br />
Thank you...<br />
<br />
</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-46421709775731971582011-01-21T15:18:00.001-05:002011-01-21T18:42:00.467-05:00Hey...Who Are You Calling Short?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I went to Belgium and all I found were some chicken bones!</td></tr>
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About eight years ago, I eagerly participated in an archaeological dig in Belgium. The focus of the dig was outside of the castle's medieval walls, in hopes of determining how long the area had been settled. Most people get excited when I tell them about my archaeology experience, however, I must assure you it's nothing like you see on TV. For days on end we dug, scrapped, dusted and shifted through the soil not finding a single item. After a couple of weeks, bones were found and everyone thought we might find a skeleton. Nope, all we found was a chicken bone, which was in the medieval garbage pit. We found shreds of pottery, horse teeth and some pretty rocks, but no human skeletons. Sometimes archaeology stinks.<br />
<br />
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Archaeologists in England, however, have found more than chicken bones after excavating a mass grave dug for the casualties of the Battle of Towton during the War of the Roses. Over 28,000 men died in this pivotal battle, which put Edward IV on the throne and the men who died, long to tell the tale of their lives.<br />
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<div class="cse-branding-right" style="background-color: white; color: black;"><div class="cse-branding-form"><form action="http://http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/" id="cse-search-box"><div><input name="cx" type="hidden" value="partner-pub-6770890207532148:8efjghbzb31" /> According to a recent article in the <a href="http://www.economist.com/node/17722650">Economist</a>, which documents this important dig, the skeletons challenge conventional wisdom of the health and well being of medieval man. Instead of being short and sickly with rotting teeth, festering wounds, chronic diarrhea and a horrendous odor, men during the 15th century were only a couple inches shorter than modern Englishmen. After evaluating many of the skeletons, it was determined the average height of a man during the War of the Roses was just under 5'7". According to the <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2002/aug/28/science.research">Guardian</a>, modern Brits aren't much taller, with an average height of 5'9".<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At least he got plenty of money from the tooth fairy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
Other distressing news for modernity snobs, is that the men who died in battle were generally in good health, had most of their teeth and a bad cause of Little Leaguer's elbow. Since it's unlikely that the soldiers were playing baseball between military engagements, it was surmised by the excavators that the famed English longbow was to blame. Instead of spending long hours practicing their fast ball, 15th century boys were practicing the art of warfare.<br />
<br />
It's not surprising that many believe that persons in the past suffered from stunted growth and ill health. The modern world, with all of its fancy contraptions, modern amenities and superior medical care, has cemented the image of an unfavorable past. Life was full of sickness (it still is), anxiety (still is) and death around every corner (nothing has changed), it's no wonder why we think that people long ago were in poor health. Take heart, however, because the men who fought at Towton undoubtedly smelled worse than a dozen or angry skunks. A nice bath didn't fight into their demanding schedule.<br />
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</span></b></div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-11643093894008364702011-01-20T10:12:00.002-05:002011-01-20T10:15:56.018-05:00Totally Trashy and Historically Inaccurate, But I think I'll Love it!<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,47,0" height="225" id="flashObj" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f9?isVid=1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="flashVars" value="videoId=746030243001&playerID=29474209001&playerKey=AQ~~,AAAAAAAA9pg~,GnOHJwU2r3sFsJRSf1bvZ_iPYmWg8io0&domain=embed&dynamicStreaming=true" /><param name="base" value="http://admin.brightcove.com" /><param name="seamlesstabbing" value="false" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="swLiveConnect" value="true" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><embed src="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f9?isVid=1" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashVars="videoId=746030243001&playerID=29474209001&playerKey=AQ~~,AAAAAAAA9pg~,GnOHJwU2r3sFsJRSf1bvZ_iPYmWg8io0&domain=embed&dynamicStreaming=true" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="300" height="225" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true" swLiveConnect="true" allowScriptAccess="always" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"></embed></object><br />
It looks like showtime is coming out with another 'historical" drama. The Borgias family, dubbed by showtime 'the original crime family', is about a powerful family in Renaissance Italy. I best be reading up on them.Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-14841113707303291072011-01-18T10:54:00.000-05:002011-01-18T10:54:36.581-05:00The History of Childbirth and Nell Gwynn<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-7RPhpY0EWEqtQLlnEUplJbhBigahp79THhv8U2afoD_Yl66xaY3rARNFno5EadHwdL3A9E515BHwOKqxDHY9Fo_oHB3Spfw_oKqCCGG1aRwnLjvQoyASoDKxn0J_3Zexfg3EpSG-W_z/s1600/nell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-7RPhpY0EWEqtQLlnEUplJbhBigahp79THhv8U2afoD_Yl66xaY3rARNFno5EadHwdL3A9E515BHwOKqxDHY9Fo_oHB3Spfw_oKqCCGG1aRwnLjvQoyASoDKxn0J_3Zexfg3EpSG-W_z/s320/nell.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This space reserved for a witty phrase by Nell Gwynn</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> Books are my crack. Like every good crack head, when a new one comes out; I race to the library to get my next fix. Yes, I'm a nerd. I won't deny it. But seriously, who wouldn't want to read the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Darling-Strumpet-Captured-England-Charles/dp/0425238598?ie=UTF8&tag=hist0f-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">Darling Strumpet </a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=hist0f-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0425238598" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" width="1" /> by Gillian Bagwell and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Get-Me-Out-History-Childbirth/dp/0393339068?ie=UTF8&tag=hist0f-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">Get Me Out: A History of Childbirth from the Garden of Eden to the Sperm Bank</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=hist0f-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0393339068" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" width="1" />, by Randi Hunter. The former is an historical novel about my favorite mistress of Charles II, Nell Gwynn and the latter is self explanatory.<br />
<br />
Below are links to reviews and for a chance to win the book by Randi Hunter. Happy reading! <br />
<br />
The <i><b>Darling Strumpet</b></i> review: <a href="http://burtonreview.blogspot.com/2011/01/book-review-darling-strumpet-by-gillian.html">http://burtonreview.blogspot.com/2011/01/book-review-darling-strumpet-by-gillian.html</a><br />
<br />
The <i><b>Get Me Out: A History of Childbirth from the Garden of Eden to the Sperm Bank</b></i> review: <a href="http://www.historyandwomen.com/2011/01/get-me-out-of-here-history-of.html">http://www.historyandwomen.com/2011/01/get-me-out-of-here-history-of.html</a><br />
</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-42871256877614874212011-01-15T10:29:00.000-05:002011-01-15T10:29:46.563-05:00I'm a 6'1" Supermodel and Thomas Jefferson Lived Like a Monk.<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkndyizbxDmVFrwunFXQlsA39PWeEomwW_87MoTPv4mD-kiS_3Roo1McHQePwAAx46o23pYyjWM1e74mXZWoj6KrJZ3ouZ5LNgOHl2lGweFNbw5Lt8HBIhXYFIPYde57FKcOYF0JxNFjD/s1600/Jefferson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkndyizbxDmVFrwunFXQlsA39PWeEomwW_87MoTPv4mD-kiS_3Roo1McHQePwAAx46o23pYyjWM1e74mXZWoj6KrJZ3ouZ5LNgOHl2lGweFNbw5Lt8HBIhXYFIPYde57FKcOYF0JxNFjD/s320/Jefferson.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My suit is Armani and my shoes are Prada."~pretend quote from Thomas Jefferson</td></tr>
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Debt has always plagued humanity. We want things now. Not after the harvest or our next paycheck, but today! Why wait when you have access to credit? When reading the countless newspaper and magazine articles on this topic, how can I not conclude that our generation is irresponsible with money? Baby Boomers, Generations X and Y, we are <i><b>financially irresponsible</b></i>, leading the United States down the road to Armageddon. We need to open our history books and learn from our fore bearers the art of frugal living.<br />
</div><div> In the good old days, everyone paid in cash or bartered, never borrowed money and lived within their means. Sigh... the good ol' days. If you believe this, perhaps I can convince you that I'm a 6'1" supermodel with gorgeous long blond hair and a body made of plastic. Not buying it? I didn't think so.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmt4cizUR-mGdUe6yAVyghrQaHnVXpsn0IlN10xSWqBBycull6miS4g5nVMghe1rS2N9HVwP_NYTrxh2Pheqp9-8WJkIPSpQuvMdOahZwdWDPpUHeMHyyGV0DcqEQjiGMXF4FwyVwxg94t/s1600/supermodel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmt4cizUR-mGdUe6yAVyghrQaHnVXpsn0IlN10xSWqBBycull6miS4g5nVMghe1rS2N9HVwP_NYTrxh2Pheqp9-8WJkIPSpQuvMdOahZwdWDPpUHeMHyyGV0DcqEQjiGMXF4FwyVwxg94t/s320/supermodel.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me! Hey, it's possible!</td></tr>
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Thomas Jefferson, author of the "Declaration of Independence" and American saint, was a notorious debtor. To be fair, many Southern planters and northern merchants were debtors, but Jefferson as well as our other "Founding Fathers," are suppose to be examples of frugality and simplicity. <br />
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According to <a href="http://www.monticello.org/site/research-and-collections/debt">Monticello.org</a>, while Jefferson inherited debt from his father and was a victim of the many financial panics the new country experienced, Jefferson loved spending money on building projects, wine, furnishings, clothing and travel. He lived so lavishly that upon his death, he owed over 1.5 million in today's dollars. Leaving Jefferson's family no choice, but to sell most of his property. Jefferson must have been a <b><i>do as I say and not as I do</i></b> type of man, because <a href="http://articles.moneycentral.msn.com/SavingandDebt/SaveMoney/the-founding-fathers-money-tips.aspx">MSN Money</a> quotes him as saying:<br />
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<i>But I know nothing more important to inculcate into the minds of young people than the wisdom, the honor, and the blessed comfort of living within their income, to calculate in good time how much less pain will cost them the plainest stile of living which keeps them out of debt, than after a few years of splendor above their income, to have their property taken away for debt when they have a family growing up to maintain and provide for.</i><br />
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Debt and living beyond our means is an age old problem. Human nature hasn't changed. Instead of looking at history through the glasses of nostalgia, try to see history as a tool. We love to spend. Always have, always will, however, we have a golden opportunity to learn about financial responsibility and frugal living. Cut up those credit cards, draft up a budget and start saving. As for me, I'm going shopping (for groceries).<br />
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<i> </i></div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-8829423728671012462011-01-13T15:43:00.001-05:002011-01-13T15:47:01.629-05:00The Cross of Laeken: St. Dymphna<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TmWTqLcgq63fYR_Q4YXuVgZ1r8WtdR4z-3qEq10vSB2XuJSzcL1G_RdHZgcxnLSn-GHud6gXrlwAlUqi0hQC9fzEbIx31Mgi9DrEVIYgdjDJnE-WlHWULrKfEG1dolRWlAh56Kaim6EL/s1600/St_Dymphna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TmWTqLcgq63fYR_Q4YXuVgZ1r8WtdR4z-3qEq10vSB2XuJSzcL1G_RdHZgcxnLSn-GHud6gXrlwAlUqi0hQC9fzEbIx31Mgi9DrEVIYgdjDJnE-WlHWULrKfEG1dolRWlAh56Kaim6EL/s320/St_Dymphna.jpg" width="174" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hear us, O God, Our Saviour, as we honor St. Dymphna, patron of those afflicted with mental and emotional illness. Help us to be inspired by her example and comforted by her merciful help. Amen.</td></tr>
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In the Catholic tradition, saints help humanity by interceding on our behalf for God. Saints can heal us and provide us protection. Over the centuries, saints have become patrons of a group of people, a condition such as pregnancy, an action or place. For example, St. George is the patron saint of England and St. Joseph is the patron of carpenters.<br />
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Over at the blog "The Cross of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Laeken</span>," he discusses the patron saint of mental illness St. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Dymphna</span>. While she was the daughter of an Irish king, she died at the age of 15 in Belgium. <br />
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Throughout history, St. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Dymphna</span> has inspired the citizens of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Geel</span>, Belgium to humanly care for the mentally ill. Those who would normally live in asylums or on the streets, live with a host family and work or perform other task during the day.<br />
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We must open our hearts and follow their lead, if we desire to prevent another devastating shooting. If we don't, history will repeat itself.<br />
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<a href="http://crossoflaeken.blogspot.com/2009/07/st-dymphna.html">The Cross of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Laeken</span>: St. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Dymphna</span></a><br />
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<div class="cse-branding-right" style="background-color: white; color: black;"><div class="cse-branding-form"><form action="http://http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/" id="cse-search-box"><div><input name="cx" type="hidden" value="partner-pub-6770890207532148:8efjghbzb31" /> <input name="cof" type="hidden" value="FORID:10" /> <input name="ie" type="hidden" value="ISO-8859-1" /> <input name="q" size="31" type="text" /></div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-52063658149293060002011-01-02T10:44:00.001-05:002011-01-02T10:46:41.683-05:00The Vatican Library in the twenty-first century: newyorker.com<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTCQUsf67mv4jA_HvJLFPXDSzjNjyPfvxU6lL6yJOQgCatYeSgLdaAai0Xr-bf4mSwCdUuXli-628vfgL60zbTqnXdBpNNMN-eM-16_opMRXR56Edb3rMxyzJR_vVrwvM8HSc6TCObfSM/s1600/tea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTCQUsf67mv4jA_HvJLFPXDSzjNjyPfvxU6lL6yJOQgCatYeSgLdaAai0Xr-bf4mSwCdUuXli-628vfgL60zbTqnXdBpNNMN-eM-16_opMRXR56Edb3rMxyzJR_vVrwvM8HSc6TCObfSM/s320/tea.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have some tea, but don't spill it on the books!</td></tr>
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In my previous life, I was a librarian for a small academic library and working at the Vatican was a distant dream of mine. The Vatican's library has so many treasures that new documents get discovered all the time. Enjoy!<br />
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<a href="http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/01/03/110103fa_fact_mendelsohn">The Vatican Library in the twenty-first century: newyorker.com</a><br />
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</div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-81777036939987229212011-01-01T09:49:00.001-05:002011-01-01T09:50:46.919-05:00Save this French Town.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqMneNVg_2heRv6YkJg-dUcN0hFvbsKvgI2EGw-NDVwmokbyEydbCt4itghqLr3sritLS0rnJRG4xMFyT7ofP2gOsHklEi8Vjbi4-Dn3JALTvsugrwiJQQInaNrm73rFcWOAWtsutpGAv/s1600/5246_Catherine-Valois.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqMneNVg_2heRv6YkJg-dUcN0hFvbsKvgI2EGw-NDVwmokbyEydbCt4itghqLr3sritLS0rnJRG4xMFyT7ofP2gOsHklEi8Vjbi4-Dn3JALTvsugrwiJQQInaNrm73rFcWOAWtsutpGAv/s320/5246_Catherine-Valois.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catherine Valois begs you to save this poor town!</td></tr>
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This is a disturbing article from the blog "Tea at Trianon." Expecting the world to end in 2012, foreigners are buying up properties near a mountain in Southern France believing they will be taken away by aliens when this happens.. Strange<br />
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<a href="http://teaattrianon.blogspot.com/2011/01/bugarach.html">Tea at Trianon: Bugarach</a>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-49862774061665077442010-12-31T11:12:00.000-05:002010-12-31T11:12:23.958-05:00Dreaming in History<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Please excuse Theresa from class! She has been ill."</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">~Queen Isabella</td></tr>
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My prolonged absence from writing wasn't planned. Illness struck our household. First my son and then me. I will spare you the details of our sickness and I hope my blogger friends are feeling well. Now that I'm confident that everyone is on the mend, it is time to write. <br />
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While I was ill, I had some interesting dreams. I would blame the medicine I was taking , but I doubt antibiotics give you odd dreams. The real culprit was a book. Darn things...if you read to much, you are bound to have vivid dreams. At least that is my experience.<br />
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This particular dream was inspired by the book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Great-Arab-Conquests-Spread-Changed/dp/0306817403?ie=UTF8&tag=hist0f-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">The Great Arab Conquest</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=hist0f-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0306817403" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" width="1" /> by Hugh Kennedy. As the title suggests, the book chronicles the Arab conquest of the Middle East and North Africa during the 7th and 8th centuries. Before I began producing <span id="main" style="visibility: visible;"><span id="search" style="visibility: visible;">phlegm at a rate no human should, I read the chapter on the conquest of Egypt.</span></span><br />
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<span id="main" style="visibility: visible;"><span id="search" style="visibility: visible;">Before the Arab conquest, Egypt had been ruled by first the Greeks under the Ptolemies and then incorporated into the Roman Empire. By the time the Arabs invaded, Egypt was part of the Eastern Roman Empire, know as the Byzantine Empire. Like many areas of the Middle East and North Africa at the time, Egypt was heavily Christian and still has a sizable Christian minority to this day.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Coptic church in Egypt</td></tr>
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<span id="main" style="visibility: visible;"><span id="search" style="visibility: visible;">The Christians in Egypt, however, weren't considered Orthodox by the Patriarch of Constantinople. The Coptic (Egyptian) Christians and the Greek Christians differed on their views regarding Jesus. At the </span></span>Council of Chalcedon in 451 AD, the bishops decided that Jesus had to distinct natures. He was both fully divine and fully human without the pesky sin thing getting in the way. The Coptic church, agreeing that Jesus was fully divine and human, however, believed that Jesus had only one nature.<br />
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For the modern reader, this difference doesn't seem big, but for the Patriarch of Constantinople, this was enough to label them heretics. Persecution of the Coptic Christians began. When the Arab armies swept through Egypt promising religious toleration to everyone who paid a special tax, the Coptic Christians jumped on the band wagon. Religious freedom is what they wanted and that's what they got for a century or two.<br />
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Whether my subconscious had formed an odd attachment to the Coptic Christians or my brain was drowning in mucus is hard to tell, but I dreamt that I was a monk at a Coptic monastery shortly before the Arab conquest. The odd thing about this dream was that while I was a monk, I was still a woman. Apparently this didn't bother anyone in my dream as we piously sang our morning vespers. Suddenly, we heard pots clanging, the earth rattling and a giant dust cloud closing in fast on our monastery. <br />
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"It's the Saracens," screamed the Abbott, "run." Yes, I admit the dialogue is a little stiff in my dreams. Maybe the Abbott should have said something like, "Hell's gates have opened and the Saracen is upon us. Run or Satan's serpent will snatch you." Seriously though, who would say that when their life was in danger?<br />
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The dream progresses as a run through the monastery searching for a way out. Screams and shrills follow me everywhere, but then I hear a distinct, "Mommy, Mommy." Thinking that I mothered an Arab child, I wake suddenly and hesitantly open my eyes. "Mommy, Mommy," said the voice innocently. I opened my eyes and instead of seeing an invader, I see my son. Not only was I glad that my son was feeling better, but that I wasn't around for the Arab conquest. Invading armies don't make good bed time stories.Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-38069856144535353112010-12-23T15:06:00.000-05:002010-12-23T15:06:03.752-05:00Merry Christmas To All and To All a Good Night!<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry VIII is sending you his best wishes for the New Year!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I have so many kind and encouraging followers and would like to thank you all for reading my blog. Like many bloggers, I'm taking Christmas Eve and day off. My son needs extra special cuddles and my husband needs some good food in his stomach. Ok, that was a little nauseating for many of you. Regardless, I will be back after the holiday, as fresh and feisty as ever.<br />
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Merry Christmas everyone!Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-20478587499697978822010-12-21T11:09:00.000-05:002010-12-21T11:09:41.292-05:00If You Don't Like This Post Blame My Son, But He's So Cute You Wouldn't Want Too.<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not my son, but he's just as cute!</td></tr>
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Where's my motivation? I lost it somewhere, perhaps behind the sofa or maybe the closet. No... the closet is to messy, it must be behind the sofa. No, not the sofa. I did find some Cheerios through. How long have those been there? Maybe my son hid it in the organ petal, because that's where he hides important things like car keys, rosaries and my library card. Nope, not there. I guess I'll just have to motivate myself.<br />
<br />
For the past couple of weeks, my son has been walking around the house, with his belly slightly protruding, saying "Wenceslas." Mind you he is only 20 months and he's probably trying to say applesauce, but I think I'll take this word and run with it. Sometimes you just have to take inspiration wherever you can get it. Besides, my son is so cute when he's saying it.</div><div><br />
</div><div>While the name may be hard to pronounce, many people are familiar with the Christmas carol "Good King Wenceslas." Written in 1853 by John Mason Neale, it is the only carol that doesn't mention the nativity, the incarnation of Christ, nothing. Below are the lyrics, hum and sing it, but don't leave just yet.<br />
<h2 align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b><span style="color: #336699; font-size: small;">Good King Wenceslas looked out<br />
On the feast of Stephen<br />
When the snow lay round about<br />
Deep and crisp and even<br />
Brightly shone the moon that night<br />
Though the frost was cruel<br />
When a poor man came in sight<br />
Gath'ring winter fuel<br />
<br />
"Hither, page, and stand by me<br />
If thou know'st it, telling<br />
Yonder peasant, who is he?<br />
Where and what his dwelling?"<br />
"Sire, he lives a good league hence<br />
Underneath the mountain<br />
Right against the forest fence<br />
By Saint Agnes' fountain."<br />
<br />
"Bring me flesh and bring me wine<br />
Bring me pine logs hither<br />
Thou and I will see him dine<br />
When we bear him thither."<br />
Page and monarch forth they went<br />
Forth they went together<br />
Through the rude wind's wild lament<br />
And the bitter weather<br />
<br />
"Sire, the night is darker now<br />
And the wind blows stronger<br />
Fails my heart, I know not how,<br />
I can go no longer."<br />
"Mark my footsteps, my good page<br />
Tread thou in them boldly<br />
Thou shalt find the winter's rage<br />
Freeze thy blood less coldly."<br />
<br />
In his master's steps he trod<br />
Where the snow lay dinted<br />
Heat was in the very sod<br />
Which the Saint had printed<br />
Therefore, Christian men, be sure<br />
Wealth or rank possessing<br />
Ye who now will bless the poor<br />
Shall yourselves find blessing </span></b></span></h2><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">King Wenceslas</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: #336699; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So who is </span></span></span></span>King Wenceslas? What does he have to do with Christmas? When is the feast of Stephen? The latter questions are the easiest to answer, since the feast of St. Stephen, celebrating Christianity's first martyr, is celebrated on December 26th. Since the feast of St. Stephen falls on the day after Christmas, it is sung as a Christmas carol. Or at least that's what a quick Google search has yielded. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Good King Wenceslas or St. Wenceslas, was the Duke of Bohemia (present day Czech Republic) and martyred for his faith by his pagan brother, Boleslaw. Born in 903 AD, Bohemia and its surrounding regions were in the process of converting to Christianity. While St. Wenceslas' grandmother was a Christian, his immediate family was not. Undeterred by his villainous mother after his father's death, he invited German missionaries to Bohemia, encouraged his subjects to convert and reformed the judicial system to favor the poor. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Since St. Wenceslas submitted to German rule and was a Christian, his brother Boleslaw and pagan nobles plotted against him. On September 28th, while he was praying at church, Boleslaw and his gang murdered St. Wenceslas. Oddly this is how many saints die, praying at church, slaughtered by a prince or a king. Whether St. Wenceslas died while praying or not, his life and love for the poor has been immortalized by a Christmas carol and my cute son. Merry Christmas.</div><h2 align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #003300;"><br />
</span></span></span></h2></div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-50777080863580683382010-12-20T13:59:00.000-05:002010-12-20T13:59:13.915-05:00Forgive Me Father...For I have Sinned.<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McCourt may have kissed this stone one to many times.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Angelas-Ashes-Memoir-Frank-McCourt/dp/068484267X?ie=UTF8&tag=hist0f-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">Angela's Ashes</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=hist0f-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=068484267X" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" width="1" /> by Frank McCourt isn't the type of book you read at Christmas. In this haunting memoir, McCourt relives his childhood in a Limericak slum where his siblings die from disease, his father drinks away all of the family's money and insists that each child swear he will die for Ireland. Meanwhile, Frank's mother is chronically pregnant, depressed and unable to care for her young children. As early as age three, McCourt must watch his younger brother Malachy.<br />
<br />
Life in Ireland has never been easy and during the depression life was even harder. While many who knew McCourt during his childhood, think Angela's Ashes is full of Blarney (lies), the book has the best confession I've ever read. Frank has just received his first communion and his ecstatic grandmother wants to make him breakfast. Frank, however, wants nothing to do with this and wants to join his friends at the "Collection." What follows is hysterical and it doesn't matter if McCourt is full of it. As long as the story is good, I'll take his blarney Thank you Simon and Schuster for the except. Laugh and enjoy!</div><div><br />
</div><div> The food churned in my stomach. I gagged. I ran to her backyard and threw it all up. Out she came. <br />
Look at what he did. Thrun up his First Communion breakfast. Thrun up the body and blood of Jesus. I have God in me backyard. What am I goin' to do? I'll take him to the Jesuits for they know the sins of the Pope himself. <br />
She dragged me through the streets of Limerick. She told the neighbors and passing strangers about God in her backyard. She pushed me into the confession box. <br />
In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's a day since my last confession.<br />
A day? And what sins have you committed in a day, my child?<br />
I overslept. I nearly missed my First Communion. My grandmother said I have standing up, North of Ireland, Presbyterian hair. I threw up my First Communion breakfast. Now Grandma says she has God in her backyard and what should she do. <br />
The priest is like the First Confession priest. He has the heavy breathing and the choking sounds. <br />
Ah...ah...tell your grandmother to wash God away with a little water and for your penance say one Hail Mary and one Our Father. Say a prayer for me and God bless you, my child. <br />
Grandma and Mam were waiting close to the confession box. Grandma said, Were you telling jokes to that priest in the confession box? If 'tis a thing I ever find out you were telling jokes to Jesuits I'll tear the bloody kidneys outa you. Now what did he say about God in my backyard? <br />
He said wash Him away with a little water, Grandma. <br />
Holy water or ordinary water?<br />
He didn't say, Grandma.<br />
Well, go back and ask him.<br />
But, Grandma... <br />
She pushed me back into the confessional. <br />
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, it's a minute since my last confession.<br />
A minute! Are you the boy that was just here?<br />
I am, Father.<br />
What is it now?<br />
My grandma says, Holy water or ordinary water?<br />
Ordinary water, and tell your grandmother not to be bothering me again.<br />
I told her, Ordinary water, Grandma, and he said don't be bothering him again.<br />
Don't be bothering him again. That bloody ignorant bogtrotter</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-92006809468590764262010-12-16T10:18:00.001-05:002010-12-16T10:19:49.100-05:00Opportunities for Women<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Queen Isabella recommends this site.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
For all you ladies out there, Elena from Tea at Trianon recommends the website BlogHer. It provides woman specific advertising and on your website and access to countless women bloggers. For more information, please click on the link below.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://teaattrianon.blogspot.com/2010/12/blogher-and-me.html">Tea at Trianon: BlogHer and Me</a>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-60693233724983127822010-12-14T15:41:00.000-05:002010-12-14T15:41:50.440-05:00Have a Merry Winthrop Christmas!<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hi!</td></tr>
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When I was five, I first realized that not everyone celebrates Christmas. The day started innocently enough, while we were visiting my grandparents for Christmas. Since I was so excited for Christmas, my parents suggested I run some errands with my grandparents. Thinking it would make time go faster, I eagerly accepted. We bought some delicious cookies at the grocery store, filled up the gas tank and stopped at the local Jewish Community Center (JCC) to pay for next year's water aerobics classes. The JCC is the Jewish equivalent to the Christian YMCA and provides fitness classes to the general public.<br />
<br />
While we were leaving, I noticed the absence of a Christmas tree. Confused, I asked my grandmother why the JCC didn't have a Christmas tree? My grandmother, a blunt Irish woman in a hurry said, "Haven't your parents taught you anything? Jews don't celebrate Christmas." This was shocking for a five year old, who was growing up in the heavily Protestant Midwest. It was like someone told me Santa Claus didn't exist. "Those poor Jewish children," I cried as I got into the car, "Santa doesn't bring them presents." My grandmother, who was never the sympathetic type, told me to "buck up."<br />
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When I got back to my grandparent's house, my grandmother calmly explained to my parents why I was crying. I told them I was sad for all the Jewish children that didn't get presents on Christmas and wanted to start a toy drive like I saw on television. My mother is a gentler soul and told me that the Jews didn't believe in Jesus, so that's why they don't celebrate Christmas. "Don't worry," she said gently, "Jewish children get presents on Hanukkah." Looking back, I'm applaud by my materialistic views of Christmas, but knowing that Jewish children also got presents in December made me feel better. After all, I felt it was only fair that all children should get presents. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No Christmas for you!"~pretend quote from Oliver Cromwell</td></tr>
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Later in life when I began studying history in earnest, I realized there were Christians that didn't celebrate Christmas. Besides..."What the Heck" (never scream this in a library), I was appalled by the prudish Puritans, who in the 16th and 17th centuries didn't celebrate Christmas. As a matter of fact, Oliver Cromwell, a Puritan and the English Parliament, outlawed the celebration of Christmas after the English Civil War. Cooking goose was banned, caroling and decorations such as holly were also outlawed. Christmas under Cromwell was a dismal affair. (For those of you who are not familiar with beliefs of the Puritans, please read my previous post; <a href="http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/2010/10/these-aint-your-mamas-puritains.html">These Ain't Your Mama's Puritans</a>. <br />
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So what possible reason could Oliver Cromwell and his cronies have for banning Christmas? According to the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/John-Winthrop-Americas-Forgotten-Founding/dp/0195179811?ie=UTF8&tag=hist0f-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">America's Forgotten Founding Father</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=hist0f-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0195179811" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" width="1" /> by Francis Bremer, the Puritans loathed Christmas because it had become to commercialized. While Santa wasn't appearing at malls and department stores weren't pressuring parents to purchase the latest toys, the Christmas celebrations of 16th and 17th century were full of drunkenness, gluttony and sexual misconduct. Not only did Oliver Cromwell and his followers want to stop this behavior, but they felt that Christmas didn't even have no scriptural bases. Yes, Jesus' birth is in the Bible, but the Christmas was started in the fourth century to Christianize the winter solstice. Therefore, some Puritans felt that Christians shouldn't be celebrating this drunken, pagan holiday.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have a Merry Winthrop Christmas.</td></tr>
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Not all Puritans, however, wanted to ban the celebration outright. John Winthrop, the leader of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, hated the licentious behavior he witnessed during Christmas. Instead of banning Christmas in the new Massachusetts Bay Colony, however, he encouraged a day of fasting and prayer. Through prayer and fasting, Winthrop reminded his fellow Puritans the true meaning of Christmas, the birth of Jesus Christ.<br />
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Does any of this sound familiar? During the Christmas season, we are constantly bombarded by the conflicting meanings of Christmas. Retailers want us to buy more, while religious leaders want us to reflect on the birth of Jesus Christ. The over commercialization of Christmas makes many people sick, so it's no wonder that the Puritans felt they had to take drastic measures. While I don't believe we should ban Christmas, John Winthrop's Christmas filled with prayer and fasting has some attraction: Less stress and more focus on the birth of our savior. So if you celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a Merry Winthrop Christmas.</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-91424136090542092682010-12-14T09:56:00.001-05:002010-12-14T09:59:26.599-05:00Tea at Trianon: The Ban on Christmas<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mW3xkTNGbnoatsc2F1WKje0iHQsIb3o58s55-XQELL2Vg5rjNrVvFhPMyNktpGBxqKbsmD5k2aKoup7JRIG8NLWEeE3Od7eGtSag4ewuwnXzJq-076bcRBIFwPcybqyILerSQ4dBaw_b/s1600/john+wintrhop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mW3xkTNGbnoatsc2F1WKje0iHQsIb3o58s55-XQELL2Vg5rjNrVvFhPMyNktpGBxqKbsmD5k2aKoup7JRIG8NLWEeE3Od7eGtSag4ewuwnXzJq-076bcRBIFwPcybqyILerSQ4dBaw_b/s320/john+wintrhop.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Winthrop wishes you an unhappy Christmas.</td></tr>
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Later today I will be discussing Christians who don't celebrate Christmas. Elena at "Tea at Trianon" has already begun the discussion on the Puritans banning Christmas during the Interregnum period. I would like to say that great minds think alike, but she's quite superior to me. Enjoy!<br />
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<a href="http://teaattrianon.blogspot.com/2010/12/ban-on-christmas.html">Tea at Trianon: The Ban on Christmas</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn61nUebDPZBQkx_e0ln0wp06Nq5Bbimpk2Rx9ZYheIYbyF3AAw_BFYxHZJpcnLiSv-67CT6_Oe9wIyjiieAYZwj7xY9nPJoQ-IOOu7YPumSPsuFKP6vePh29uX0C4CSu0oaxHUWMRj4LH/s1600/moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn61nUebDPZBQkx_e0ln0wp06Nq5Bbimpk2Rx9ZYheIYbyF3AAw_BFYxHZJpcnLiSv-67CT6_Oe9wIyjiieAYZwj7xY9nPJoQ-IOOu7YPumSPsuFKP6vePh29uX0C4CSu0oaxHUWMRj4LH/s320/moon.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm lost!"</td></tr>
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Not only is the title clever, but it is a well written article about how science sometimes gets it wrong. Enjoy!<br />
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<a href="http://cyberbrethren.com/2010/12/11/scientists-find-more-stars-early-reports-are-that-stars-did-not-realize-they-were-lost/">Scientists Find More Stars: Stars Did Not Realize They Were Lost</a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hungry yet?</td></tr>
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My panettone, an Italian sweet bread with dried fruit served at Christmas, is rising. I must admit, I am a little nervous. The starter was dry this morning, because I left it on the radiator all night. After I put some water on it, the starter began to bubble, so hopefully my bread will turn out alright.<br />
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Christmas has many wonderful traditions and baking special foods is only the beginning. I remember my great grandmother, who was from southern Italy, made hairy spaghetti, calamari and an assortment of Christmas cookies for Christmas Eve. The smell of anchovies (it's what makes the spaghetti hairy), fish and sugar, lingered throughout the house. The blending of the smells was never offensive, with it being just enough to make anyone begin to salivate.<br />
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My great grandmother never made panettone, at least not from what I remember. My father remembers his aunt baking it one year, but the bread never became a family staple. Since panettone originated in the northern city of Milan, it wasn't popular in Naples at the turn of the last century. While I still plan on serving hairy spaghetti for Christmas Eve, I'm hoping panettone will become a new family tradition.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I will save you from destitution with bread!"~Ughetto</td></tr>
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Like many traditional foods, panettone has several legends on how it came into being. My favorite one is a love story between Ughetto (love the name), a Milan nobleman and poor baker's daughter, Adalgisa. According to the legend, the bakery was struggling to survive, when Ughetto, pretending to be a mere apprentice to be closer to his love, invented a sweet bread with currents, raisins and dried citrons. This new bread was a huge success, the bakery survived and Ughetto and Adalgisa married. Who doesn't like a story like that?<br />
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Panettone, however, probably wasn't invented by a single person, but evolved over the ages. According to the <a href="http://gourmettraveller.com.au/panettone.htm">Gourmet Traveler</a>, panettone has its origins in ancient Rome. Leavened bread was often sweetened with honey during Roman times and this tradition continued in Italy throughout the Middle Ages. Eventually in 16th century Milan, eggs, butter and dried fruit were added to the sweetened bread. Since this bread contained expensive fruits, it was made primarily at Christmas to show off a person's wealth. Yea... I liked the first story better. It actually sounds more Italian, but I digress...<br />
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While panettone was popular in northern Italy, it took two rival bakers, Angelo Motta and Gioacchino Alemagna, to make panettone popular throughout Italy. In the beginning of the 20th century, both bakers began producing the bread commercially throughout Italy and it became an instant sensation. Today, panettone is a Christmas staple throughout Italy and where ever Italian immigrants have settled. If you decide to make it, I recommend <a href="http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/american-style-panettone-recipe">King Arthur Flour's</a> recipe. It has been Americanized, because not many Americans eat dried citron and peels. Their recipe, however, is easy to follow and all of their recipes have been tested by expert. In my next post I'll tell you how it turned out. Wish me luck!<br />
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</div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4116806628922106711.post-53427689485899575172010-12-09T11:14:00.001-05:002010-12-13T21:30:58.482-05:00Saints Behaving Badly...<style type="text/css">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even the birds know he's a saint!</td></tr>
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When I was a little girl, I attended my catechism religiously. Since I was born after Vatican II, Catholic saints took a back seat to other practices, but I still found myself learning about St. Patrick who brought Christianity to Ireland, St. Francis who gave everything he had to the poor and the Virgin Mary who willingly gave birth to God's son.<br />
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The purpose of saints, I was taught, was to show Catholics that anyone could live a life of faith. Unlike Jesus, who was divine, saints were human and subject to the same human flaws we all have. If they could give everything to the poor and remain faithful when persecuted for their faith, we should be able to as well. This seemed logical when I was ten, but as I grew older, the more inadequate saints made me feel.<br />
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Take the example of St. Francis, who was born into a wealthy family and gave up everything to live like a poor man. He started the Franciscan order and gained the attention of the future St. Claire, founder of the poor Claire's. St. Francis and his friars preached the gospel to the common people and sinners of their day. Unlike other monastic houses of the time, the Franciscans didn't rely on the sale of crops or donations to support their community. They begged for their bread and relied on God's providence wherever they went.<br />
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St. Francis' life was commendable, but how could a person like me ever live up to that standard? I'm materialistic, like good food, am sickly and while I'm generous with my money, I could never give it all away. Until college I never felt that being saintly was an option, because the bar had been set to high.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE_YkAOxu9cAgs-axYEjn6jth8LKlBQpAg8-Nco8yxlZKvKhondQrN37DF6cQqfggD5us2lEk8KNqaCltqBEysx0nIxQWgMny1a8Xalx9OOdiV58H-FWZO1XwroyQo3xot3LXGWJeXc5t/s1600/St.+Augustine.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE_YkAOxu9cAgs-axYEjn6jth8LKlBQpAg8-Nco8yxlZKvKhondQrN37DF6cQqfggD5us2lEk8KNqaCltqBEysx0nIxQWgMny1a8Xalx9OOdiV58H-FWZO1XwroyQo3xot3LXGWJeXc5t/s200/St.+Augustine.png" width="147" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Theresa, I would like to introduce you to my friend St. Augustine."~quote from my college professor</td></tr>
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That's until I met St. Augustine. Before taking a Medieval history class, I had never heard of the man before, but instantly took a strong interest in him. Born during the waning years of the Roman Empire, Augustine was born in present day Tunisia. While his mother St. Monica was a devote Christian, his father was a pagan. For much of his youth, Augustine had a typical Roman upbringing. He studied Latin, philosophy and rhetoric, went to the bath houses, picked up women and even had a mistress and illegitimate child. Now, how's that for saintly behavior? While St. Augustine eventually converted and lived a more pious life, this shows that saints began just like us.<br />
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Unsaintly behavior, however, can occur at any point in a saint's life, as demonstrated in my previous post, <a href="http://historywasneverlikethat.blogspot.com/2010/12/behave-or-santa-will-slap-you.html">"Behave or Santa Will Slap You?</a>" St. Nicholas was the bishop of Myra and attend the famous Council of Nicaea. Ordered by the first Christian Emperor Constantine, the consul was to settle the doctrinal disputes of the day and create a uniform Christian creed. A man named Arius promoted the belief that Jesus wasn't God, which enraged good old St. Nick. Out of a fit of passion, St. Nicholas slapped Arius (very unsaintly behavior) and was removed from the council by Emperor Constantine.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I want to suck...the puss from that wound."~pretend quote from Catherine of Sienna</td></tr>
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Not only did saints behave poorly, some even had mental problems. Catherine of Sienna, born in 1347 in Italy, advised kings and popes, cared for the sick and ate the lice and sucked the pus from leapers. Yea...that last part is a little weird. Obviously Catherine didn't suffer from an obsessive-compulsive disorder, but something much more troubling. What ever her illness, the Medieval world viewed it as another aspect of her saintliness.<br />
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Much like other historical figures, such as Anne Boleyn, Mary, Queen of Scots and the Puritans, saints were multidimensional people showing great devotion to God and the poor, but quick to sin like the rest of us. Knowing that saints had violent tempers, sexual desires and metal illnesses makes them more real and accessible. It seems to me, that some of the greatest sinners, make the best saints. </div></form></div></div>Theresa Brunohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10934415969408365200noreply@blogger.com4