Chinese New Year. Valentine’s Day. Other commemorations.

Gung hei fat choi! That’s Happy New Year in Chinese, or so I am fairly reliably informed. Somewhere we have a video clip of our half-Chinese granddaughter, two and a half years old at that point, shouting it out over and again at the top of her little lungs. This year my daughter has sent us pictures of her second half-Chinese child, almost 18 months old, resolutely refusing to have his photo taken in the rather fine Chinese outfit, sent I presume by Chinese grandparents. I keep reminding her he is not a performing animal - he keeps reminding her that he has a mind of his own!  Children will do that! 

Last year my daughter asked me to crochet rats for her two small people - it was the Year of the Rat. This year I have made oxen, this being the Year of the Ox.

The Ox is supposed to be strong, reliable, hardworking and intelligent. However, here is a story of the Ox being outwitted by the wily Rat:-

Great race

According to some old mythological traditions there was a race held by a great deity to determine which creatures, in which order, would be the namesakes of the twelve-year cycle. The race was run, and swum, the finishing line being across a great river. The Rat and the Ox crossed easily enough, the Ox due to being large, powerful, and adept both on land and in water: the Rat asked the good-natured Ox for a ride on its back, but then ungratefully jumped off at the last minute to cross the finish line first.

And so in the twelve-year cycle the Rat precedes the Ox. That’s how it goes.

I was reminded of the story of the scorpion and the frog, where the frog reluctantly gives the scorpion a ride across the river, only to be stung half way across - the moral being, I suppose, that some people just cannot help being bad! Here’s a link to the wonderful Madeleine Peyroux singing about it - Shoulda known!

Next year is the Year of the Tiger, and maybe I should start looking for crochet patterns now.

We’ve been out and about in the sunshine. It’s still very cold although the weathermen say a warm front is moving in, bringing more wet stuff. On balance, however, I think I prefer cold and bright to less cold but dull and damp.

At the bottom of Dobcross it is festooned with hearts: stitched little cushion hearts and crocheted hearts strung from tree to tree. I guess it’s the local primary school wishing everyone a Happy Valentine’s Day. They were responsible for the Christmas decorations at that spot. I am surprised they have not gone for Chinese lanterns.

Thinking about Valentine’s Day (Sunday), here’s an odd fact about Japan:

“Shifting gender politics and the coronavirus have combined to spell the possible end of the Japanese Valentine’s Day custom of women giving chocolates to male colleagues.

Traditionally, women are expected to buy gift-wrapped chocolates for the men in their working lives – usually senior colleagues and others who have helped them during the course of the year – as part of a tradition called giri choco, literally obligation chocolates.

The custom is not a one-way street, however: men are supposed to reciprocate a month later on White Day – a marketing ploy dreamed up by chocolate makers in the early 1980s to boost sales.

Growing resistance to the practice – which can involve anything from expensive treats from a chocolatier to budget selections sold in convenience stores and supermarkets – has led to a decline in sales in recent years, as more women object to “forced giving”.

And finally, as we seem to have a “days” theme again, here is a little comment from Armando Iannucci:

“Today we mark the first anniversary of when it was obvious Johnson should have done something.”

There we go.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!