Yesterday was Twelfth Night, the eve before the end of the 12 Days of Christmas. Years ago on this date Angel Chuck Billy began a family tradition, based on Anglo-Saxon folklore, of wassailing our apple trees with cider, song, and toast, in the hopes of a bountiful harvest. According to his research, the purpose of wassailing is to wake the apple trees and to scare away any evil spirits that may be hiding in the branches. So armed with actual toast, we would head out into our yard to recite a blessing:
“Cider from this loving cup,
Too much for mortal man to sup,
About thy roots the goodness spread,
And help you in the year ahead.”
While doing this, the Wassail King (Dad) would pour cider on the roots of the trees, while the Wassail Queen (Mom) placed toast soaked in wassail, a mulled wine, in the branches. Following the blessing, we burst into song:
“Apple tree, apple tree, we all come to wassail thee,
Bear this year and next year to bloom and to blow,
Hat fulls, cap fulls, three cornered sack fills,
Hip, Hip, Hip, hurrah,
Holler boys, holler hurrah!”
After the singing, Angel Chuck Billy led us in barking and dancing, as the King and Queen banged pots and pans, to scare away the evil spirits that may be lurking, while simultaneously awaking the good spirits that live in the tree.
Did it work? Not in the least! Now I have to admit that last year I forgot to wassail our trees. In my defense, Angel Chuck Billy left rather abruptly and didn’t leave me a to-do list. Yet despite not doing this ritual, we grew 3 apples and harvested 1! I would have harvested all 3, but the deer got to 2 of them before me. But such a bountiful harvest is worth sharing with the neighbors. It’s the polite thing to do. Anyways, I realized although last year I didn’t wassail my apple trees, I did woogle near the apple trees by happily making snow angels. Maybe that’s what the apple trees prefer? Maybe all that banging and barking scared the trees! Perhaps they prefer a simple happy dance instead!
This is why yesterday evening I headed out into my yard to woogle for my trees, and I even adapted the lyrics of the traditional carol “Here We Come A-Wassailing,” to celebrate the start of this new (and hopefully successful) tradition!
Here I come a-woogling
In the snow so cold,
Here I come a-dancing,
This game does not get old!
Love and joy come to you,
When you do a woogle, too,
And I wish you, and send you
A happy new year,
And I wish you a happy new year!
