Holly

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Today’s word has been a little tricky. The word is Holly but holly doesn’t grow wild in Sweden so I couldn’t find real one. Luckily my friend Lyndsey (thank you so much, sweetheart!) sent me some beautiful handmade Christmas cards which had holly on them and one of those are seen on my picture of the day. #yarnpadc

Holly isn’t part of traditional Swedish Christmas decorations but that doesn’t mean haven’t seen it. I remember British children’s books from when I was a kid where they celebrated Christmas and there was always a mole, an open fire, holly and plum pudding (I might have read Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame, now that I come to think off it). Holly sort of became the Christmas decoration above all despite the fact that I had never seen any. I still have romantic fantasies about holly spread over the mantelpiece. Deck the halls with boughs if holly, and so on. In my mind it must be incredibly cozy and lovely and warm and friendly where there is holly.

The only time I’ve seen holly in real life I was 20 and lived in France and an acquaintance had a holly bush on his very dark front yard. I was completely amazed and just wanted to look at it for ages and my friends thought I was a little weird (this was early on in our friendship, before they got to know me and realized that’s exactly what I am, a little weird and particular at times). This holly had nothing of the Christmas romance though, not to mention that it was September, but it didn’t matter. This was holly, in the flesh, so to speak, and nothing could take that away from me. I have never seen it since.

Even if I would ever have the possibility to decorate with holly in my own home I don’t think I would though, I’m pretty sure it would spoil the magic, but in my mind it’s the only genuine Christmas decoration there is. But then again, nothing ever is like in a children’s book, no matter how hard we try. And that’s okay too.