Goodable

This restaurant in New York City has no chefs. To cook in this kitchen, there's only one requirement: you must be a grandmother. When Joe opened up this restaurant almost 20 years ago, his mother and sister had just passed away. He was full of grief. But then. he started inviting grandmothers into his kitchen. And it changed everything. Thank you Enoteca Maria Restaurant! Made possible with the support of Ontario Creates.

<p>This restaurant in New York City has no chefs. To cook in this kitchen, there's only one requirement: you must be a grandmother. When Joe opened up this restaurant almost 20 years ago, his mother and sister had just passed away. He was full of grief. But then. he started inviting grandmothers into his kitchen. And it changed everything. Thank you Enoteca Maria Restaurant! Made possible with the support of Ontario Creates.<br></p>

This New York Kitchen is Run By Grandmothers!

People

Just days before Christmas, a small dog tossed into a trash compactor in Gardena, California, found a second chance — and a new family — thanks to a quick-thinking police officer.

While walking near Normandy Avenue, Sgt. Nick Beerling of the Gardena Police Department heard faint cries coming from a solar-powered compactor trash can. Inside, he found a terrified terrier mix, huddled on top of a pile of garbage.

“He was just kind of whimpering and shaking, looking for help,” Beerling told NBC Los Angeles.

Animal control responded and safely removed the pup from the bin. The dog, estimated to be around a year old, was taken to the SPCA LA South Bay Pet Adoption Center, where staff nicknamed him Flan — a nod to his dessert-colored fur.

Despite being out of immediate danger, the little dog’s story didn’t leave Beerling’s mind.

On Christmas Eve, he returned to the shelter — this time with his family — and made it official. They adopted the pup.

“The girls and I have been trying to convince him to get another pet for a while, and he hasn't wanted to commit,” a family member said. “But this little guy just tugged on his heart.”

Now renamed Norm, after the street where he was found, the dog joins the Beerling family’s other pet, a Shih Tzu, in his new forever home.

Security cameras were nearby, but SPCA LA said the footage was not made available to police. Even so, they say the dog’s recovery and Beerling’s decision to adopt him turned what could’ve been a tragic story into something far better.

“Flan’s resilience and the officer’s quick actions have turned a tragic situation into a happy ending,” the shelter wrote.

Dog Abandoned in Trash Compactor Gets Rescued — and Adopted by the Officer Who Found Him

CTV News

Hardeep Singh Toor didn’t expect his final fare of the night to turn into a delivery run — quite literally.

Just after midnight this past Sunday, the Calgary Checker cab driver picked up a couple in distress. The woman was clearly in labor, and her companion urgently asked to be taken to the hospital.

“They said they’re having an emergency, [and] they need to go to the hospital,” Toor told CTV. “She was in pain.”

His first instinct was to call an ambulance, but with slick roads and a snowstorm slowing everything down, Toor quickly assessed the situation. “Her body language was telling me she did not have the time,” he said. “I decided to drive.”

For the next 30 minutes, he navigated icy streets, praying for green lights and a smooth ride to Peter Lougheed Centre. Behind him, the woman was shouting in pain, and her partner was trying to keep her calm. Then came the red lights — and more stress.

“Every time I got to a red light, I was afraid,” Toor said. “This kind of situation, it’s someone’s life [at stake].”

About three blocks from the hospital, near McKnight Boulevard N.E., the shouting stopped. The baby had been born — right there in the back seat.

At first, there was silence. No cries. No sound from the mother or baby.

“I was scared,” Toor said. “Then I heard a newborn’s crying. I thought, ‘OK, it’s going to be OK.’”

He didn’t stop. He kept driving straight to the hospital, determined to get medical help as fast as possible.

When he pulled up to the emergency entrance, staff were already rushing outside. Toor stepped aside and let them take over.

“They told me the mother and baby were good,” he said.

That was his last ride of the night, and it’s one he won’t soon forget.

“It’s my first experience getting two people in and three people out,” said Toor, who has been driving a cab for four years. “It’s a once-in-a-life moment, [and] it’s a proud moment.”

Calgary Cabbie Delivers Baby in Backseat During Late-Night Emergency Ride

Samrica Zogar was born with limb differences in her hands and feet—and into a world where disability often came with judgment and stigma. But now, the Liberia-born content creator is using her voice, her style, and her platform to challenge all of it.

“I post because I have built resilience toward words that don't define how I see myself,” Zogar told PEOPLE.

Now 37 and living in Minnesota, Zogar speaks candidly about the discrimination she faced growing up in Liberia. “Because of the lack of knowledge, awareness, social stigmas and marginalization, most Liberians do not have empathy for those born with rare conditions,” she said.

Some of the harshest treatment, she recalled, came from within her own family. “Some said it would have been best if I was not born,” she said.

But the physical challenges were just as relentless. Without access to adaptive footwear, Zogar often had to walk barefoot. “I experienced burns from the hot pavement and sand, and during the raining season, I would travel through muddy puddles,” she said.

Still, in the middle of pain and rejection, she found something to hold onto: fashion.

As a child, Zogar earned money selling her mother’s baked goods. She used it to buy clothes—small indulgences that made her feel like herself. “When I was being bullied, I came to find comfort in dressing up,” she said. “Fashion became therapeutic and an escape from reality.”

That love for clothing has only grown stronger, though shopping today still presents challenges. Most items need to be tailored to fit her body and accommodate her hand. Customized shoes are especially expensive—costing between $3,000 and $6,000 per pair—and Zogar only owns four.

Much of that is thanks to a woman named Michelle Lerach, whom Zogar met while working for a foundation in Liberia that taught women about ethical business. Ever since, Lerach has stepped in to provide Zogar with tailored footwear when she needs it.

Zogar’s love of fashion evolved into something bigger: a desire to model. She built a social media following and began sharing photos that blend bold style with vulnerability. Nearly 50,000 people now follow her on Instagram.

“I believe I have an innate nature to model,” she said. “I don’t let my disability stop me from pursuing my dream.”

And while the internet can be brutal, Zogar said she’s not shaken by negative comments. Her reason for sharing her life so openly is bigger than that—it's her daughter, 15-year-old Joerica.

“I must be strong for my daughter so that she can feed off my strength despite how the world may see me,” she said. “When she sees my strength, it gives her hope.”

Their conversations go beyond survival. Zogar teaches her daughter to embrace who she is fully, to see beauty where the world might overlook it.

“We have conversations about loving the hair and skin we are in,” Zogar said. “I've taught her to look at beauty in a deeper sense—that beauty is not only about appearance, but in the confidence to celebrate unique types of beauty.”

Zogar is still chasing her dreams—and making room for others to chase theirs, too.

Model With Limb Differences Defies Criticism And Embraces Her Unique Beauty

The Cool Down

A new sanctuary on the Gulf Coast is offering critically endangered whooping cranes a much-needed safe haven as their population makes a slow but hopeful recovery.

The Wolfberry Whooping Crane Sanctuary, opened in Texas, will serve as a wintering ground for the 550 birds that migrate each year from their breeding grounds in Canada. The $8.4 million land acquisition was led by multiple conservation organizations and marks a major step forward in efforts to protect one of North America’s rarest birds.

The whooping crane’s story is one of dramatic decline and cautious optimism. In the 1940s, only 21 birds remained in the wild—just 16 of them in Texas. Decades of wetland destruction and illegal hunting had brought the species to the edge of extinction. They were among the first animals protected under the U.S. Endangered Species Act, passed in 1973.

Carter Crouch, director of Gulf Coast programs at the International Crane Foundation, praised the new sanctuary while recognizing how fragile the bird’s recovery still is.

“We have a long way to go still, so there's a lot of story to be written, and I'm super excited to be a small part of that,” Crouch said.

Standing nearly five feet tall, whooping cranes are striking birds with white feathers, black wingtips, and a bright red patch on their heads. Their loud, trumpeting calls can be heard from kilometers away—hence the name.

But they’re more than just a dramatic sight or sound. Whooping cranes are a keystone of wetland ecosystems. They help regulate food webs by controlling prey species and spreading nutrients. Their presence also serves as an ecological signal: if the cranes are thriving, so is the habitat around them.

That’s part of what makes the sanctuary so significant. Rising sea levels and saltwater intrusion are steadily eating away at the coastal wetlands these birds depend on. By securing large tracts of winter habitat now, conservation groups are trying to stay ahead of the environmental changes that could push the cranes back into decline.

Social media reaction to the sanctuary’s opening has been overwhelmingly positive. An Instagram post by @savingcranes celebrating the news drew dozens of upbeat comments, including “Great win conserving one of the Earth’s great habitats for wildlife for future generations!” and “Bravo! Thank You! Congratulations!”

There’s also reason for wider optimism. In another part of the world, a rare crane species has recently made a strong comeback thanks to international cooperation and targeted protection efforts—proof that with enough support, recovery is possible.

Whooping cranes live long lives and are surprisingly resilient, but their survival depends on continued conservation work. For those looking to make a difference, supporting local or global efforts—whether through volunteering, donations, or awareness—can help keep these birds flying for generations to come.

Texas Sanctuary Opens To Welcome Rare 5-Foot-Tall Birds In $8.4 Million Initiative

ABC - Australia

Venus Williams is set to make history at this year’s Australian Open—just by stepping onto the court.

The 45-year-old American has been granted a wildcard into the main draw, marking her return to Melbourne Park 28 years after her debut in 1998. In doing so, she’ll become the oldest woman ever to compete in the main draw of the tournament, surpassing Japan’s Kimiko Date, who played at age 44 in 2015.

"I'm excited to be back in Australia," Williams said. "I've had so many incredible memories there, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to return to a place that has meant so much to my career."

The seven-time Grand Slam champion hasn’t played the Australian Open since 2021, nor has she competed outside North America since 2023. Her recent years have been plagued by health setbacks, including surgery for uterine fibroids. But her wildcard marks a determined comeback after a limited return to the WTA Tour last July.

Williams briefly stunned 11th seed Karolina Muchova in the first round of the US Open last year, grabbing a set before ultimately falling 6-3, 2-6, 6-1.

Tournament director Craig Tiley praised Williams as “a true legend and trailblazer of our sport — she's an inspiration to us all.”

She’ll also compete in the Hobart International as part of her preparation. It's a full-circle moment: in her 1998 debut at the Australian Open, Venus beat younger sister Serena in what would become the first of 31 iconic matches between the siblings. They faced each other in the Australian Open finals twice, in 2003 and 2017, with Serena winning both.

The Australian Open women's wildcard roster is now full, with Williams receiving the eighth and final spot. On the men’s side, the last few wildcards have yet to be confirmed, with Nick Kyrgios among the biggest names still waiting.

Kyrgios has already secured a wildcard for the Brisbane International, which begins January 4, but his inclusion at Melbourne Park remains uncertain.

Former Grand Slam finalist Mark Philippoussis weighed in, calling the decision a "balancing act."

"You get a wildcard at a tournament and you don't produce because physically you break down, it doesn't look good," Philippoussis said. "It's not good for the tournament, it's certainly not good for the player."

For now, though, the spotlight is on Williams. Her return doesn’t just mark another chapter in an already legendary career—it sets a new standard for longevity in tennis.

And in true Venus fashion, she’s not just showing up. She’s showing what’s possible.

Venus Williams to Break Australian Open Age Record With Her Comeback This Month

BBC News

David Holmes was just 17 when he first stepped onto the set of Harry Potter, tasked with making magic happen from behind the scenes. A trained gymnast from Essex, he served as Daniel Radcliffe’s stunt double—flying on broomsticks, dodging fireballs, and battling creatures too dangerous for an 11-year-old actor.

But in 2009, during filming for the seventh movie, a stunt went wrong. Holmes was yanked backwards by a harness with such force that his spine snapped. At 24, he was paralysed from the chest down.

Now, at 42, he says he has no regrets.

“I had the time of my life on the Harry Potter set,” Holmes says. “I was the first person to play Quidditch on a broomstick.”

The accident happened during a scene where Harry fights a giant snake. “I remember hitting the wall and my chest folding into my nose,” he recalls. “I was fully conscious for the whole thing. I knew I had broken my neck.”

Instead of blaming anyone, Holmes focused on recovery. “I owned the fact that I chose a dangerous profession,” he says. “Even though my accident was not my fault, I could do nothing about it.”

He chose not to sue Warner Bros., saying the studio’s insurance covered his needs and that he wanted to use his energy for healing, not legal battles. “I know so many people who don’t have the luxury of an insurance policy so I would feel like a sham if I moaned about my situation.”

The hardest part, he says, wasn’t the physical impact—it was watching his loved ones endure the trauma of his injury. “The experience and the character of Harry Potter meant so much to me,” he says. “Harry Potter is a safe space for a lot of people. It’s a gift for humanity, and I will always be proud of that.”

That pride is personal, too. Holmes’ partner Rosie, whom he met three years ago, is also a quadriplegic—and Harry Potter, she told him, helped her through some of her darkest moments long before they met.

“It took me to break my neck to meet the woman of my dreams,” he says. “She makes me feel like a man.”

Six years ago, he underwent high-risk surgery to treat a cyst on his spinal cord. His right side is getting weaker, and doctors can’t guarantee how long he’ll retain speech or swallowing function. Before the operation, he recorded a video explaining his role in Harry Potter, in case he didn’t survive.

He did survive—and thrived in a new way.

At Radcliffe’s encouragement, Holmes told his story in the documentary David Holmes: The Boy Who Lived. He hasn’t watched it yet. “One day I won’t be able to get out of bed and I will watch it then,” he says.

Since its release, Holmes says his self-acceptance has only grown. He’s used his platform to push for disability awareness and change. “People aren’t aware of how difficult it is to live as a disabled person,” he says. “If me and Rosie moved in together, we would lose access to a lot of our support. We live in a society where disabled people are punished to love each other.”

Even something as simple as watching a movie together can be impossible. “I can’t go to a cinema and sit next to her because there aren’t two disabled spaces,” he says. “I can’t visit my friends’ houses because they are not accessible.”

But this year, Holmes made a return to the Harry Potter universe—this time as a voice actor.

He plays Stan Shunpike, the eccentric Knight Bus conductor, in a new audiobook version of The Prisoner of Azkaban. The role is a full-circle moment: he worked on the original film as Radcliffe’s stunt double in the Knight Bus scenes.

“I was honoured when they asked me to audition,” he says. “It’s really cool to be back in the wizarding world. The character breakdown is a cockney who talks himself up a lot, so it wasn’t hard for me!”

He’s also long campaigned for more visible disability representation in the Potter world. “It’s nice for the fan base that know my story, that I’ve been included,” he says. “My voice is still there and I can still create art with it.”

Holmes now organises an annual charity cricket match with Harry Potter cast and crew, raising money for a spinal injury centre in Stanmore. He’s writing a children’s book about a teenage stunt performer, dreams of launching a fully inclusive festival for disabled people, and hopes to put on a one-man show about his time in the industry.

“I want people to leave my show with an appreciation for stunt performers,” he says. “If my legs came back to life tomorrow, I would go straight back to work. It’s the best job in the world. I travelled the world telling stories with my physicality.”

His message, ultimately, is simple.

“The thing I’m most proud of is that I broke my neck and stayed the same person,” he says. “And I want to remind people to wiggle your toes. Health is real wealth. Practise gratitude every day.”

Harry Potter Stunt Double David Holmes Finds New Magic After Life-Changing Injury

Science Daily

They may be no wider than an eyelash, but mosses are quietly making their mark in crime labs.

A growing number of forensic scientists are turning to moss and its plant cousins to help solve crimes. These small, ground-hugging plants—often found in damp, shaded places—can contain microscopic clues that point to when, where, and how a crime occurred.

“Plants, and specifically bryophytes, represent an overlooked yet powerful source of forensic evidence that can help investigators link people, places, and events,” says Jenna Merkel, a forensic scientist who co-authored a recent study on the topic.

The paper, published in Forensic Sciences Research, reviews more than 150 years of cases in which bryophytes—mosses and similar small plants—played a role in solving crimes. Merkel, then a Master's student at George Washington University, co-authored the study with Matt von Konrat, Head of Botanical Collections at the Field Museum in Chicago.

Von Konrat’s team had firsthand experience with this type of evidence. In 2013, they were called to assist in a high-profile case involving a missing infant in northern Michigan. The child’s father had confessed to the crime but couldn’t pinpoint where he had buried her body. Investigators found microscopic moss fragments on his shoes and called in von Konrat’s group to help match the samples to the landscape.

“There are hundreds of species of moss and dozens of species of grasses and trees living in that area,” von Konrat said. “But based on the bits of moss, we knew what sort of micro-habitat we were looking for.”

Using that knowledge, the team surveyed the region and managed to narrow the search area from seven counties to just 50 square feet. The father later confirmed that it was, in fact, the burial site.

That case spurred von Konrat and Merkel to dig deeper into moss’s forensic potential. “I thought, why don’t we look into writing a review of how bryophytes have been used in forensics?” von Konrat said.

What they found was surprising: not many documented cases exist, but the ones that do point to a field full of untapped promise.

The earliest case they uncovered dates back to 1929, when moss growth on a decomposed body helped investigators estimate the time of death. Since then, moss has helped solve crimes in countries including Finland, Sweden, Italy, China, and the U.S., aiding in everything from location tracking to time estimates.

Mosses are ideal for this kind of work because they’re highly sensitive to their environment. Each species thrives in specific micro-habitats—some cling to shady rocks, others prefer damp tree bark, and some grow beneath the canopy of grasses. That precision can help narrow down where a person or object has been.

“They can find a spot that works for them in the shade, or in the canopy, or even growing under the grasses,” said von Konrat. “And different types of even smaller organisms can live on those mosses, which can give even further clues.”

Unlike many plants, mosses don’t have stems, roots, or seeds. They absorb water and nutrients directly from their surroundings, which makes them especially well-suited to boggy, hard-to-reach environments. Their structure also allows them to retain trace materials that can serve as evidence.

Despite their potential, mosses are often overlooked in crime scenes, simply because most people don’t know what they’re looking at. That’s something the authors hope to change.

“With our paper, we wanted to highlight the significance of botanical evidence,” von Konrat said. “Chances are, investigators are simply overlooking it because they don't know what they're looking at. We're hoping that our study helps show how important these tiny plants can be.”

Beyond their role in solving individual cases, the researchers believe mosses could become standard tools in forensic investigations—especially as climate change and urbanization push these hardy plants into new environments.

For now, the Riotous Collective of moss-loving scientists hopes their work brings more attention to what they see as a green goldmine of information. And maybe, just maybe, it helps bring some closure to the families still waiting for answers.

Tiny Clues, Big Breaks: How Moss Is Helping Solve Cold Cases

Leicester is building a reputation as the all-women punk rock capital of the UK—and it’s not your usual story of twenty-somethings with guitars. This wave of music is powered by women in their 40s, 50s, and 60s who, until recently, had never picked up an instrument.

It started with Ruth Miller. In 2021, frustrated by the lack of older women in the music scene, she launched The Unglamorous—a project aimed at teaching women to play instruments and form bands. The goal: to get more older women on stage, loud and proud.

Just two years later, more than two dozen all-female punk bands have emerged in Leicester. The scene has continued to grow even after Miller’s death from breast cancer in October 2023. Her legacy now lives on through the Riotous Collective, a not-for-profit group with around 80 members and counting.

“It’s like a movement now,” said Janet Berry, who performs under the name Planet Janet. “Leicester really is the all-women punk rock band capital of the UK.”

Berry, 56, was among the first to join Ruth Miller’s sessions. She saw an ad that promised to transform older women with little or no music experience into full-fledged punk rockers in just 66 days. That promise came at just the right time.

“It’s that idea that you become invisible and that people don’t listen to you any more,” she said. “I was being talked to about pensions and retiring—and I really felt that’s not the end.”

On her first day in a music studio, she was grouped with a few other women. By the end of the session, Velvet Crisis was born. Two months later, they played their first gig at a local venue on International Women’s Day.

Berry said the experience had a huge impact. “It just really helped with my memory and also my mental health—just being able to sing about what’s really frustrating you that day,” she said. “I’m still me, but I feel so much happier.”

That same energy is fuelling the Riotous Collective today. They offer regular taster sessions for newcomers, many of whom are trying music for the first time in their lives.

For Michelle Haggerty-Wood and Lou Baker, who co-host a podcast about menopause, the idea of becoming punk musicians sounded like the perfect way to shake things up.

“We’re trying everything that we’ve ever wanted to try, and we’re not saying ‘no’—we’re saying ‘yes’ to everything,” said Baker.

Christine Riedhofer, 62, performs as Whizzy McFly in a band called The Boilers. She’s helped mentor many new members over the years and keeps things simple for first-timers. “I teach them an E chord and tell them that’s all you need,” she said.

But for Riedhofer, this isn’t just about learning music. It’s about confidence—especially for women who once felt uncomfortable going to gigs alone.

“It’s like, a lot of times, women were very iffy about going out in the nighttime,” she said. “And now with all these women bands, people will go out, they’ll know they’ll be in a safe space. And I think that’s the biggest thing.”

That sense of belonging, of having space to be loud, visible, and unapologetic, is what continues to draw more women into Leicester’s growing punk rock community.

“If men can go out there and have fun playing music, why can’t we?” Riedhofer said.

Leicester’s Punk Rock Rebellion: How Women Over 50 Are Taking Over the Stage

A growing pod of bottlenose dolphins has become a regular sight along the Yorkshire coast—and it’s thanks to thousands of photos taken by members of the public that scientists are now learning exactly who they are and where they’ve come from.

Researchers have confirmed that many of the dolphins seen near Scarborough, Whitby and Bridlington are part of a population long associated with the Moray Firth in northeast Scotland. That revelation is reshaping how experts think about dolphin movements in UK waters.

“It seems that they’re being seen quite a lot in Yorkshire, so we’re really interested to know which animals they were and to understand more about their movements between England and Scotland,” said Grant Ellis of the Sea Mammal Research Unit at the University of St Andrews.

Through a project called Citizen Fins, researchers have received over 5,000 photographs from the public since 2020, allowing them to identify more than 70 individual dolphins by the unique notches and markings on their dorsal fins.

“In July, a pod of more than 200 bottlenose dolphins was seen feeding off Scarborough,” Ellis said. “Some animals have even been documented moving between the Moray Firth and Yorkshire.”

The evidence has been so compelling that it’s forcing scientists to rethink how the entire population is monitored. “This project has given us the evidence that there are definitely Scottish animals in England,” Ellis said. “That’s a massive boon to scientists.”

Among those contributing regularly to the project is 66-year-old Stuart Baines from Scarborough. A former solicitor, Baines is now the local representative for the Sea Watch Foundation, and the person behind the Scarborough Porpoise Facebook page—an online community that has grown to more than 120,000 followers.

He began tracking local marine life 15 years ago, often noting sightings during his morning commute. “Every morning on my way to work I would drive around Marine Drive and then come back that way in the evening and jot down what I saw,” he said. “And then I retired four years ago and since then I’m down there far too much.”

Baines said sightings of bottlenose dolphins have exploded. “For the first 10 years of recording cetaceans off Yorkshire, we’d get lots of harbour porpoise and minke whales and perhaps five or six bottlenose dolphin sightings a year,” he said. “Now it’s over 700 sightings—it’s just gone up and up.”

He credits the Citizen Fins project with helping researchers confirm that these animals are venturing far beyond their traditional northern territories. “It enables them to provide evidence that these animals are not only off Scotland and in northern England and Northumberland, but also off Yorkshire now,” he said.

“And the more photographs that people can submit of fins, that’s great,” he added, “because about 50% of the bottlenose dolphins have identifiable fins one from another. They’re quite boisterous animals. They tend to grab each other’s fins or scrape the side, and then they keep that mark for life.”

With dolphin activity now a daily feature off parts of the Yorkshire coast, what began as a personal passion for local wildlife watchers is now proving to be a powerful scientific tool.

Photos from Dolphin Spotters Help Scientists Track Booming Bottlenose Pod Along Yorkshire Coast

If you hear the sound of saucepan lids clanging in an orchard this January, you’re not imagining things. Wassailing—an old midwinter tradition mixing music, ritual, and community spirit—is enjoying a revival in orchards and villages across the UK.

“Post-Covid, there has been a significant uptick in people holding wassails,” says folk musician and author Simon Bailes, who’s currently writing a book on the subject. Based in Dunton, Bedfordshire, Bailes is inviting groups across the country to share how they celebrate the custom.

Wassailing varies from place to place, but it typically involves singing, dancing, and toasting fruit trees to encourage a good harvest. “It’s a bit wacky to go into an orchard in the winter when it’s cold – it’s such a colourful part of our local community,” Bailes said.

He runs his own event near Biggleswade, which has grown to attract around 250 people and continues late into the night with music in the village hall. “Because it’s big in the folky traditional world, it’s become a popular community activity,” he added. “We do a lot of banging of saucepan lids. Parents bring tiny babies in papooses through to pensioners in their 80s.”

Wassailing events often take place around Twelfth Night in early January, though some are more family-friendly daytime affairs. In Colchester and Luton, for example, community groups are taking their own spin on the tradition.

“Some people think of a cider-fuelled night-time fest with fire, but we’re not there yet,” said Konni Deppe, project co-ordinator of Luton Orchards. Instead, her group encourages attendees to bring a mug for mulled juice and something to make noise with. “There will be drummers to make a lot of noise, and we normally paint our faces green.”

For Deppe, these events are a way to reconnect people with the land around them. “It’s just a thing of wonder that you have a tree there, and without you doing much, it gives you a crop,” she said.

At the Irvine Road Community Orchard in Colchester, the focus is on celebrating neighbourliness as much as the trees. “We have mulled cider and apple juice, and eat some leftover mince pies,” said organiser Shaun Thomas. “Then we progress into the orchard, making as much noise as possible to ward off evil spirits, and put bird seed out for the robins.”

They also play the Essex wassail song. “People really get into the spirit of it,” Thomas said. “Last year we had a really good wassail and a really good harvest.”

While it’s tempting to imagine these events as relics of ancient times, Bailes says the tradition is more diverse—and more modern—than many assume.

“There were two types of wassailing historically,” he explained. “One was a bit like Hallowe’en trick or treating, going from property to property and singing songs, dancing, and asking for a favour: money, beer or food. The other is agricultural wassailing – it’s a celebration of the crop and encouraging a better crop next year.”

People have even been known to wassail livestock and bees. And while there are references to scaring off evil spirits and awakening the tree’s spirit, Bailes says the tradition isn’t strictly pagan. “I’ve also found modern wassails with a Christian bias—usually because the local vicar runs it.”

His upcoming book will focus less on ancient origins and more on how wassailing is thriving in the 21st century, thanks in part to the growing number of community orchards. “Groups want more than just an apple day in October,” he said. “Wassailing in January fits a dead time of year. My feeling is people have always done something in the middle of winter, and gathered together for a bit of a party.”

It’s not just grassroots groups getting involved. The National Trust has joined in as well. Connor Brown from Lyveden in Northamptonshire said their wassailing event offers visitors a chance to “learn about the old traditions and have some fun, while warding off bad spirits and encouraging a good harvest for the season ahead.”

Whether you’re into Morris dancing, green face paint, or just a warm mug of mulled juice in an orchard, wassailing seems to be striking the right note for communities looking to gather, make some noise, and chase away the winter gloom.

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