Hi Internet. This is a new type of post for me. It’s a pro/con subject matter. And this one is about cornucopia’s. If you find yourself questioning the existence of the horn of plenty… this is the article Phil Collins would say you’ve been waiting for all your life.
Pro Cornucopia: Amber’s side of the cornucopia debate
I’m indifferent. They just hold fruit and stuff… I don’t see the big deal.
I don’t love them or hate them.
Con Cornucopia: Lauren’s Cornucopia Conundrum
It’s Lauren. And I have something to tell you. I don’t like cornucopia’s. The back story of this is that when I was a kid I loved to check the brand new calendar to see what day of the week my birthday was. Like every other cool kid out there I prayed it never landed on a Wednesday… because it would be too far to wait for a weekend! But the calendar always had alternative plans for me…
Unlike my sister who was born in July and usually had beautiful pictures of fireworks. And my parents born in June had beaches, summer in full swing. And both Christine and Isabel born in March who would have fields of gorgeous flowers for their calendar month. And the children of December who had these fantastic winter scenes, Christmas, promises for the New Year… and of course October and September riddled with the most gorgeous changing leaf colors you have ever seen. And then there was November… and the Cornucopia.
It was on a table, near a turkey, with a pilgrim, with an Indian. It was featured by itself, it was outside marring the beautiful scenery. But it was always there. And even on the calendars without a picture it would sneak its little wicker basket self in there.
And when I grew up I started to resent it, not just because of the beauty of the other months. But because the cornucopia was always so forced. I never remember us having one for any other day. I don’t remember getting a cornucopia to celebrate the crisp days of autumn, from a horn of plenty lot. Actually it was just wicker with plastic fruit on my grandma’s kitchen table. And it was only out for Thanksgiving. Now here is the moment we can all admit it’s not as charming as a Christmas tree, it’s not as fun as an Easter basket stuffed with candy, and it definitely could not hold a candle to a pink foiled doily valentine, heck it can’t even compete with Flag Day. It’s just a wicker horn with vegetables in it. And since I never have had to live a cold winter clutching my wicker horn to get me through the long nights, I just can’t get into it.
I also want to take this time to share from first to sixth grade I had to color the same cornucopia color page… every year. It may have even been this picture:
And one more thing about cornucopia’s. They are not even very convenient. I mean I don’t carry around horns of water. Or horns of markers. When I go to the market I don’t say “Horn” when they ask “Paper or plastic”. There are so many better ways to hold things. Bags, boxes, those little packs on the sides of mules. I just don’t get their horn-shaped allure.
And although this week I will get to see my family and eat wonderful food with them. And I will have a fantastic time… there is just a little hesitation knowing that a horned foe may show up. I just hope that we have plenty too cumbersome to fit in that wicker horn… if you know what I mean.
As many people know, I truly couldn’t dislike cornucopias anymore than I naturally do.
I really cannot stand them.
They pretty much ruin the entire month of my birthday with their corn filled lies. I will go so far as to say they plague my dreams and fill my heart with bottomless sorrow.
Also I don’t like anything that can is a synonym for “the horn of plenty.”
I thought I successfully avoided all the suck that cornucopia’s bring this holiday season… but apparently someone who sends me shopping emails thought I look like the kind of girl who wants this email:
Well I am totally not. I want nothing to do with your “cornucopia of savings”.
On Tuesday’s continuation of my miniseries things that I find odd I direct you to the month of my birth.
November means lots of things to many people. To my family and friends it means a day to celebrate my existence. To the British it boasts Cracker Night/Guy Fawkes Day on the 5th. And to American’s it boasts Thanksgiving.
When I was a child I like many children loved to look at the calendar to see what day my birthday was on. . . . but for the most part the calendar would have a hideous friend on it during that month that over the years I began to loathe… the cornucopia. That is right, that nasty horn filled with assorted berries and evil spirits. All I could think was February gets hearts, June gets flowers, July gets fireworks, December gets sweet baby Jesus and November… is only good enough to get… a cornucopia.
Here look at my despair:
Thank you American Calendar makers for ruining my dreams of an awesome calendar experience for my birthday.