December has arrived, and whenever it does, I feel like proclaiming “Happy Holls!” in a British accent (don’t worry, I mostly refrain from doing this).

As a young’un I read two different series about a group of child detectives – The Famous Five and The Secret Seven.  Oddly, they are both written by the same author, Enid Blyton, who apparently saw the limitless potential of junior sleuth literature and wisely cornered the market.  There was little difference between the two series.  They both involved groups of British adolescents gallivanting about the English countryside, stumbling upon relatively tame criminal activity they inevitably thwart. Both the Famous Five and the Secret Seven are unofficially led by tall, fresh-faced British school lads bearing solid, leaderly, names like “Julien” and “Peter”.  Each group boasts the membership of a bossy, headstrong, but ever-so- brave, tomboy and an eager and exceptionally bright dog.

Anyway, these sleuth groups seem to operate exclusively under holiday conditions, their time unfettered by the daily routines of homework, bedtimes, and chores.   Each book inevitably starts with an assertion from one of the characters that goes something like: “I say chums, aren’t the Holls grand?” or “Happy Holls, shall we picnic at the cliffs tomorrow?”  Puzzled, I sought clarification from my British father who explained that “Holls” was 1960s British school kid slang for “Holidays”. Ever since, I’ve always enjoyed the expression  “Happy Holls!” and associate it with the beginning of an unknown adventure.

This sense of holiday adventure is especially acute for me this year.  In July, my parents moved to Charleston, South Carolina, and I fly to its mysterious and balmy shores on Christmas day.  My initial research on the city has revealed that it has two nicknames - “The Holy City” and “Chucktown”, both of which make me a little nervous.  However, it is also well known for its outstanding BBQ, fresh seafood, and sweet potato hash, and was the first US city to pass a historical preservation ordinance! So maybe I can get past the rather ominous nicknames.