"Mother, hurry. We’ll be late for the Yule Festival," Annika shouted.
"I’ll be down in a moment. I’m gathering the clove spiked apples and oranges. Have Anker collect some boughs from the pine trees in the yard and tell Anton to gather a bushel of wheat. And . . .," her breathless mother responded.
"Yes. All is taken care of. I have the holly and mistletoe throughout the house. We have to go. We’ll miss the Yule log and the Yule goat ceremony," whined a frustrated Annika.
"And wassail to you too," Mother toasts as she rushes past with her spiced cider.
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, Udo Schroter.
To see more of our drabbles from our December Feature, visit The Burrow.
