Word Wednesday - Sandwiches and Snow Angels

Forgive my cheesy title, but this is something I've been thinking about posting for a long time. Last year sometime, my great aunt and uncle came for a visit, and after Church on Sunday we all went over to my grandparents house to eat. Whether or not we were eating sandwiches, I can't remember, but somehow we got into talking about sandwiches...which somehow or another led to talking about snow angels. Anyway, the main question flying around the table was, "How did the sandwich get its name?" Some humorous speculation went on for awhile, but someone finally said something about how there was a town called sandwich over in Europe somewhere. That got me curious, so I looked it up online soon after. Here is what I discovered:

Once upon a time there lived an Englishman named John Montagu, also known as the Earl of Sandwich. He had a bad habit of gambling, and, consequently one day, as he was doing so, he wanted a bite to eat. However, this man did not want to interrupt his game, so he asked the cook for something he could eat easily while playing. This led to the cook bringing a slice of meat wedged between two pieces of bread.

Additional readings:
http://www.open-sandwich.co.uk/town_history/sandwich_origin.htm
http://www.foodtimeline.org/foodsandwiches.html


As for the origin of snow angels,  I personally prefer this view point (which is pure speculation...)...

Two angels lay on their bellies in the clouds, peeking down at human life below. The first angel, Mike, was thick and broad shouldered. He had a very serious look upon his face. His golden eyes pierced the cloud cover below, searching. The second angel, Gabe, was smaller but shared the same twinkling eyes. A yawn escaped his mouth; and he stood, stretching his arms and wings. His gaze turned to a sleeping cherub, her golden head resting on a pillow of cloud. Chuckling to himself, Gabe grasped his own pillow and tiptoed toward the dozing Goldilocks.  He raised it high before launching it at the mound of curls. The cherub let out a yelp and withdrew a tiny sword. Upon seeing Gabe, she let her flashing sword slide back into it's sheath and grasped her own pillow, a determined grin on her face. Gabe's eyes widened, and he let out a whoop, starting heaven's pillow war. Unfurling his wings, he leaped into the air, the cherub at his heels. Other angels, cherubs, and seraphs joined the fray. Giggles and laughter echoed off the clouds. Someone's pillow burst, releasing a puff of white. More giggles erupted, and soon all heaven lay beneath a powdered mess.

Mike lay motionless, ignoring the play around him. Not a single feather on his wing twitched. His eyes were fixed on the life below the clouds. Temporarily dropping out of the game, Gabe hovered to his friend's side. “Why don't you come play, Mike?”

Mike barely turned his head to look up at his friend. “We have all eternity to do things like that” He motioned towards the pillow fight. “But this...” he said, pointing towards the earth. “...is temporary. Besides, see what damage you have caused below?”

Gabe peeked through the cloud cover, eyes colliding with a world of white. The tiny flakes from their pillows frosted the ground. More flakes tumbled from the clouds, dusting the trees. “It's not so bad,” Gabe insisted. “I think it's kind of pretty!”

“Yeah, but what will they think?” This time Mike pointed towards white-covered tents where tiny faces peeked out. One bold human stepped from the safety of his home to examine. He gathered a bit of the stuff in his hands and watched it shrink in size, a pool of water in its place. His eyes widened, and he frantically waved his arms, motioning for the others to join him. Laughing, the children burst from their tents, leaving a trail of footprints wherever they went.

“See, Mike, they like -” Gabe's words were cut short when something smacked him from the clouds. Pillow in hand, Mike chuckled, watching his friend's hollering form tumble toward the earth. White flakes flew back into the air when Gabe's flailing form plopped into a snowdrift. Laughing, he shook the flakes from his wings and leaped into the air.

Meanwhile, a young girl spotted a blur of white drop from the clouds and bounce back into the sky. Curious, she plodded over to investigate. Stumbling across an oddly shaped canyon in the snow, she shrieked for her father to come see. “Papa, Papa!” she giggled. “Come see what I have found!” Her father dashed to his daughter's side. “Look,” she said, grasping his hand. “A snow angel!”