So what really is in a kiss? Tricia McGill

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A lot it seems. This post was meant to be about that first kiss—and how it affected us. But as happens with research (this is why I love it) you end up finding out a lot more than you set out to find. While recalling my first ever kiss I was taken back to when I was about 14. That was when I met the boy who gave me that kiss. I was

looking my best (or so I thought) in a black and white check skirt and jacket that I treasured. My sister Joan made it for me to wear at our dear Dad’s funeral when I was just 12 (I didn’t grow much in those years). Needless to say, the day mentioned above saw me also wearing white ankle socks and a white bow in my hair (my sisters did love to put me in a bow).

 

My cousin, who was slightly older than me, and already courting her young man, decided it was time I also found a boyfriend. I was not that interested to be honest—boys were just pests at that time. Anyway, the boy she and her friend picked out for me was nearer her age and quite a good-looking fellow—tallish with dark hair—every young girls dream. Unfortunately, he took one look at me in my ankle socks and hair bow and laughed. That killed any thoughts of romance with him. To try to cut this story a lot shorter, I must have caught the eye of his younger brother who was somewhere in the vicinity. A few days later, he turned up on his bicycle in my street and sought me out—told me he thought I looked nice and hung around for a while, eventually giving me my first kiss. Truth is, I have no recollection of how that felt, only know that it was at the kerbside. To round off this story—roll on a few years to when I was an almost married woman. We met these two brothers at a party. To my utter dismay—or it might have been relief—the younger one treated his then wife with a certain disdain, flirting with all the other women, me included, while his older brother had become a real gentleman.

 

There have been a few first kisses since that one, some memorable some not. Funnily enough, I didn’t fall in love with my husband of forty years at our first kiss. Which goes to prove that it does not always map out that the best first kisser proves to be the best partner in life. He was pretty good at many other things that mattered.

 

So back to my research. It is believed by some that the idea of kissing came about millions of years ago and had nothing to do with romance. It is thought that ancient mothers force-fed their babies mouth-to-mouth after chewing the food, just as many other species still do.

 

Many cultural groups did not have a clue about kissing apparently. Early historians have named India, and in particular, Verdic Sanskrit who mentioned in his literature as far back as 1500BC that they rubbed noses together. One theory is that while in the process of nose rubbing someone slipped lower and realised that the lips were more sensitive and touching them gave real pleasure.

 

Over the centuries, more historic references turned up. An epic poem by Mahabharata mentions that when their lips met she made a noise that produced pleasure. Let’s not forget the Kama Sutra, a classic text that apparently contains many descriptions on the technique of kissing. I say apparently, as I have never read it. Then of course along came Alexander the Great, bless him, whose conquering armies spread the art of kissing wherever they went. They supposedly learnt of it from the Indians. Then after Alexander died, his generals went off to various parts of the Middle East to carry the word—and the kiss.

 

The Romans, it seems, popularized the art of kissing and thus spread the practice to parts of Europe and North Africa. Aha, I was waiting to find out where what we know as ‘French kissing’ derived from. Believe it or not, there were devoted “kissing missionaries’. What began as a kiss of friendship delivered on the cheek, developed into a more erotic lips-to lips, and finally a kiss of passion which became the French Kiss. The Romans even had laws that went along with kissing. If a virgin girl was kissed in public by a man, she could be awarded full marriage rights from him.

 

By the Middle Ages most Folk in Europe were kissing, but the practice was governed by the rank of the kisser. The lower the rank the further from the lips the kiss was delivered. So if you were a lowly serf who could not read or write you signed your name with an X and sealed the contract by kissing that X. It seems this is how the practice of putting an X to signify a kiss on your Valentine’s Card or letter to a loved one came about.

 

Go here for more information:  https://www.seeker.com/kissings-long-history-a-timeline-1767196852.html

 

So, this I all learnt because it has always fascinated me how the touching certain parts of the body by the one you love can bring so much pleasure, and I was curious about the simple kiss and got to wondering who touched lips for the first time and thought to themselves, “That was pretty good.” I cannot imagine the cave

men, depicted hauling their mates around by their hair, coming up with it. Now we know—it was most likely a mother feeding her offspring by mouth that started it all. I wonder if the Vikings found pleasure in kissing. That’s research for another day.

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Delightful Dahlias by A.M.Westerling

 

Sophie's Choice, Book 1 of my Regency Romance series, The Ladies of Harrington House, is available from BWL Publishing HERE.

Every author has their preferred method of finding inspiration. If I'm stuck on a plot point or need inspiration, I'll go for a walk or do a bit of research. However, in the spring and summer months, I like to spend time in my garden. That's my patio right outside my backdoor. 

One of my favourite flowers is the dahlia and I have a number of varieties. I lift the tubers every fall and plant them again in pots indoors in early April before transplanting them outside. By mid summer the blooms have arrived and they’ll flower continuously until the first frost. After that, I lift the tubers, shake off the dirt and store them in a cool, dark place until next spring.

Dahlias are quite the interesting flower. They’re named after Swedish botanist Anders Dahl who originally classified them as a vegetable as the tubers are edible! They supposedly taste like a mix between radishes and potatoes although I can’t vouch for that. Originally from Mexico, they were introduced to Europe by Spanish settlers. Mexico’s national flower is a dahlia. Before the discovery of insulin, dahlia tubers were used to balance blood sugar because of their high fructose content. The petals were used to treat rashes, insect bites, infections and dry skin.

There are thousands of types of dahlias and they are categorized based on size, flower pattern and how they resemble other flowers. Some of the blooms can be as large as a dinner plate! Oddly, there are no blue dahlias although they come in every other colour. In the 19^th century, a London newspaper offered a reward of one pound to anyone who could breed a blue dahlia but the prize has never been claimed. I've had the orange pink tipped dahlia pictured above for at least 5 years. 

It was Queen Victoria’s favourite bloom and used in Victorian era wedding bouquets as a symbol of commitment and an everlasting union. They also symbolize elegance, creativity and inner strength. During the Regency era, they were included in wedding bouquets only if they were locally grown, tucked in amongst other flowers such as roses, peonies, sweet peas, scabious, lilies and delphinium. Queen Victoria is not the only one with a fondness for dahlias. Bees stop by constantly! 

The most surprising fact I discovered about dahlias while doing my research for this blog post is that the tubers are edible. I wonder who discovered that?!

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Featured Author Janet Lane Walters

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Where to begin?  Hi, I’m  Janet Lane Walters and I’ve been writing for a very long time. My first sale was a short story published in 1968. I’ve gone on to have more sort stories published and when the market dried up, I moved to writing novels. Actually a rejected story set me off. An editor wrote “This sounds like the synopsis for a novel. Learning how to write novels took several years. The first one I wrote was published after 16 rejections with many suggestions from editors and making revisions, the seventeenth time the novel was purchased. That was in 1972. Also had several poems published and four non-fiction books.

Calling myself an eclectic writer, there’s a tendency to dabble a bit in my writing. There are contemporary romances, paranormal romances, alternate world romances, some that combine history with the present day, more reincarnation than time travel. Also among the mix are cozy mysteries, one medical suspense. Also there are two YA series, one for teens and one for a bit younger age written under J. L. Walters for four of them. I tend to jump around when I’m writing and sometimes a series is shelved for a time when a new idea pops into my wild imagination.

Another cover or more to show my eclectic writings. For details and purchase information visit my BWL Author page: http://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/

  

My home is in the scenic Hudson Valley about thirty miles from NYC, on the west bank of the river. I just realized the house is 100 years old and has changed much since we bought it about forty years ago. I can see the river from the upstairs window in the winter when there are no leaves on the trees. Married to the same man for 50 plus years but recently a widow. There are four children, the youngest daughter is an adopted black girl. The children have given me seven grandchildren. Four are black and three are Chinese. The eclectic sort of runs over into the family.

I’ve had many hobbies in the past including knitting, needlepoint, cookie baking, Yoga, composing music and Astrology. Of course there’s reading. That’s been my hobby since I was three and received my first library card. My grandfather taught me how to read.

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