Same Time Next Year

Christmas, a wonderful time for the company of friends and kin. Holiday revelry, grand suppers, even a special breakfast - all organized for the purpose of celebrating with those we love. We clean the house, prepare special food, stock the bar and open our doors to those most special to us because it is "The Season." It is Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, the "holidays" or just a much needed couple of days off of work. What ever it is, it is a time to draw those near and dear to you into your homes and into your heart.

"Taste this, try that, you'll love this, sit here, look there, you've grown, how was your trip, how were the roads, did you sleep well, need another blanket, I made this just for you, have another drink, remember the time, she looks just like her grandmother, I love you too."

"What time's your flight, just a snack for the road, don't forget, tell them we send our love, drive carefully, did you look under the bed, print your boarding pass, don't forget your phone charger, we'll try to make it out before summer, safe travels, sure you can't stay one more day, you have a precious load, thank you, I love you too."

And then, it's over. Everyone goes back to their life, their job, their home - fortified by love and family and friendship. Perhaps a few pounds heavier and with some new "stuff" they don't really need, but fortified with love to see them through until next year.

I love you too.

Bah, Humbug!

Ahh, Christmas. I've been having a hard time this year - a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit. There are lots of reasons, some I won't go into, some I will - mainly, Daughter # 1 and Wonderful Son-in-Law aren't coming home for the Holidays, but the reasons are myriad. This is the first evening I've been able to prepare for Christmas. Believe it or not - I haven't done any shopping for the holiday, a first for me and probably a big contributor to the reason I'm not in the Holiday spirit, but it hasn't been without its surprises. One of the perks of not shopping has been the lack of frustration at holiday everything - traffic, fellow-shoppers, high prices, lack of merchandise, surly salespeople, (I could go on and on, but I won't).

Tonight as I am making a last-ditch-effort to put some punch and perk into Christmas. I had an epiphany (well, not exactly an epiphany - just a really good insight) into the real spirit of Christmas. Will it surprise anyone to learn that the real spirit of Christmas is love?

I am cooking. Trying to get about fifteen dishes prepared for our annual Christmas Fiesta. While I am cooking my dear husband is cleaning the house for me. The house that has been sorely ignored in the cleaning department for months. I feel really guilty, but he says, "You cook, I'll clean." And he says this in a really nice, loving way - like he doesn't even hate me for being such a horrible housekeeper. His great attitude about cleaning up my household mess leads me to thoughts about love - I know he is cleaning the house because it is his way of expressing his love toward me.

Then I begin thinking about daughter #1, the same daughter who is missing her very first Christmas at home (read: with me!). I may sound like I am complaining about it, but I'm really not. Right this very minute my daughter and son-in-law are on a plane to Ireland where they will spend a glorious holiday together. A much deserved holiday after a gruelling semester in law school for my daughter and a job hit hard by the economy for my son-in-law, who happens to be footing the bill for law school (thank you, thank you, thank you). I imagine them on the airplane, holding hands - looking forward to the fantastic adventure they are about to embark upon. How I envy them. How I celebrate for them. How proud and happy I am for them. And, should they read this - I promise I am not pouting because you are not home for Christmas!

Then I think about daughter #2, embarking on a new relationship and making Christmas memories with THE BOYFRIEND. How exciting to begin traditions that may last a lifetime. How exciting for me that they are in the same town and I only have to share them with the other parents, not an entire foreign country.

Christmas is about love, and about being with the ones you love, and remembering the ones you love and celebrating their adventures and new directions. Christmas is about sharing - sharing the excitement of new horizons and new love and old love. Christmas has finally entered my heart this year and I thank my far-flung daughters and my near-by husband for showing me the way to it.

Garlic Soup

It is happening. I'm trying to pretend it isn't happening. I think, fear, I am getting a cold. I am fighting it for all I'm worth - zinc, vitamin C, garlic - lots and lots of garlic. I made garlic soup for dinner. This is my secret, super-duper recipe for nipping a cold in the bud. For knocking that sucker right out of the ball-park, for kicking its ass. Hopefully it will work. Five or six garlic cloves sauteed in olive oil, top it off with some chicken or vegetable broth, throw in some egg noodles and boil until the noodles are tender. Eat with lots and lots of black pepper and hopefully by tomorrow morning the threat of a cold will be history. We'll see.

Bobwhite

My father was a very interesting man, but sadly I didn't realize this until after he died. He has been gone over fifteen years and I still discover or remember remarkable things about him.

My father was pretty good at imitating bird calls, a talent I never appreciated as a child. It was just something he did on occasion, but not often. It was something I might have once thought to be corny or embarrassing. I don't think I ever asked him about it. Never once showed any interest in it.

Now I would like to know how he learned to whistle just like the birds from his east Texas home. Did someone teach him, his father, perhaps? Or his mother? That would certainly shed new light on the grandparents I barely took the time to know. What were the names of the birds he could mimic? What did they look like? I only recall one call, that of the bobwhite - only because a bobwhite says its name. I wouldn't know a bobwhite if it flew into my room, lit on my nose and trilled its name repeatedly.

I'm beginning to develop an interest in birds. I enjoy watching them at the feeders and I even have quite a library of bird i.d. books and a pair of binoculars. I'm not very good at identification - they all have wings, a beak and feathers - which means they look pretty much the same to me.

If Daddy were here he could help me. I could close my eyes and listen to their calls. First from the birds and then from my father as he would patiently try to teach me to whistle. I'd like to think I wouldn't be too busy. Too busy to sit and listen and learn from a good man whom I never fully appreciated until it was too late.

So, I vow to take time to listen to the bird calls. I'll take time to listen for the bobwhite's call and to think of my father. I might even learn to whistle.

An Old Fashion Christmas? (Martha, where art thou?)

My immediate family has opted to make our Christmas gifts for each other this year. Our decision was based on several factors.

1. the economy
2. not one of us needs anything
3. to avoid the commercialism
4. a "made" gift is more meaningful
5. (daughter # 2 insists that another reason is because my son-in-law is an extremely talented artist and this is a ploy on my part to snag expensive art - I swear the thought never occurred to me!)

I will admit I am enjoying not being caught up in the craziness of Christmas shopping. I can smugly peruse the sale ads, knowing that this year I am immune to them. The crowded stores, the traffic and the overworked (and inapt) sales clerks won't be my problem this year. How nice to feel so sanctimonious!

Until...until the realization of just what this means sets in. I have to envision and create gifts for my loved ones and I don't have a Martha Stewart bone in my body. What was I thinking when I made this crazy suggestion? (No, I swear I was not thinking of my son-in-law's art.) I was thinking it would be FUN! I had a quaint, old-fashioned feeling of hand-hewn/hand-sewn/hand-made Christmas gifts. Mind you, I said "feeling," not "vision." I never actually visualized any of these gifts. Hand-hewn (don't even know what that means - to hew?), hand-sewn - I don't sew, hand-made - I don't "make" things, either. I'm stuck, I'm stymied, I'm panicked. It is December 9th and I've no idea what I'll be "making" for gifts.

Mid-summer, when this idea was suggested it seemed like a good one. With six months stretching out before me I was sure inspiration would hit, now with the Christmas clock ticking down the final days I'm beginning to wonder if Martha makes house calls!?!

Let the Eating Begin

"Let the eating begin!" I overheard before our Thanksgiving dinner and I suppose that is the mantra for the holiday season. From the Thanksgiving appetizers through the New Year's black-eyed peas I am bombarded with food. In spite of my efforts to not gain weight in December I always put on a few (or more) pounds. It's not as if I'm trying to diet - I'm just trying to hang on to my current weight - but my efforts are thwarted daily. Christmas parties, specialty baking, celebration lunches, meeting friends for a drink - it is all too much -- too much food!

I love food and I love celebrations and I even love that all of our celebrations revolve around food - I just wish we could take a closer look at the foods we are using for our festivities. Without exception, everything I have been served at special holiday gatherings this year has been over-processed, highly salted, sugary and sometimes unidentifiable food. Why can't we make our food as special as the occasion? If we invite friends to break bread during the holidays as a way of telling them, "I love you," shouldn't we also serve them food which shows the love? Food that is pure and wholesome and healthy? Food that won't just pack on the pounds.

I am as guilty as my friends. My favorite holiday recipes are full of fat, white flour and sugar. One of the reasons is because it is more expensive to buy "good" food and the "good" food options seem limited - especially in the dead of winter. But I'll give it a try; like Gandhi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world." I'm not just talking about a tray of broccoli and baby carrots with Ranch dressing on my buffet table! How about locally raised, grass fed beef, organic produce, whole grains, less sugar, less fat. If I serve my friends whole foods and the best ingredients I can find - isn't that showing them how much I value and love them?

It is okay to love your friends and family with food provided you don't love them to death with it!

Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater

The transition from Thanksgiving decor to Christmas decor involves removing cornucopias, pumpkins, gourds, Indian corn and sheaves of wheat from every surface (and front porch) of my house. Normally I take it all to the compost bin and reap the benefits in the spring, but this year I took another look at what I traditionally compost. My day job is overseeing a farm so I have access to wonderful, chemical free produce - including pumpkins. The majority of my fall decor consisted of pie pumpkins and winter squash; the prospect of composting perfectly good FOOD goes against my support of local food systems and farmers everywhere. Guess how I spent my evening? I "put-up" pumpkin.

This is how I did it - I had two methods going at the same time in order to expedite the process.
Baking Method: Cut the pumpkin in half and discard the stem section and stringy pulp. Save the seeds to dry and roast. In a shallow baking dish, place the two halves face down and cover with foil. Bake in a preheated 375 degrees F oven for about 1 1/2 hours for a medium-sized sugar pumpkin, or until tender. Once the baked pumpkin has cooled, scoop out the flesh and puree or mash it. For silky smooth custards or soups, press the pumpkin puree through a sieve.
Microwave Method: Cut the pumpkin in half, discarding the stringy insides. Microwave on high power for seven minutes per pound, turning pieces every few minutes to promote even cooking. process as above.
You can refrigerate your fresh pumpkin puree for up to three days, or store it in the freezer up to six months, enabling you to enjoy fall pumpkins for months to come.

I now have enough pumpkin to keep me going until next fall and the shell and stringy insides have gone to the compost bin. The super-wonderful-added-bonus is - I also have candied pumpkin seeds to enjoy while I put up my Christmas decorations. Yum!