December New Year's Eve

Once again, I can report a terrible (at the same time that it was good) movie viewing situation last night. Escape from Pretoria. Predictably, it was terrifying. Three anti-apartheid activists, planning an escape from prison in Pretoria. Based on a true story. Did they make it?? Listen, if I had to white knuckle my way through that film, then you do too! I'm not going to spoil it for you! Suffice it to say that many things do not go according to plan, causing panic in both the escapees and me!

Tonight, we are definitely going easy on the drama. After all, it's New Year's Eve.

*     *     *

New Year's Eve.

A dusting of morning snow. Not much, but very pretty nonetheless!

(looks like the chickens are having a meeting)

(just a touch of snow...)

We finish the leftover baked goods for breakfast. Clean the kitchen of old stuff. Isn't that what you're supposed to do on the last day of the year? To start with a clean slate tomorrow?

*     *     * 

I pause for a few minutes to read the paper. Not necessarily the serious stuff. There's an article about the proliferation of great ethnic restaurants in big cities all over the world. Nothing new in this piece and I don't necessarily agree with all the points the author makes, but still, I like thinking and learning about good food so I'm glad I read it. Then I get to the comments section. OMG. So harsh! Criticism abounds! Privileged! Elitist! Behind the times! Insensitive! Stay home and eat brats! On and on. I say to Ed -- we are such a confused nation. We hate wealth. We idolize superstar athletes. We aspire to wealth. We hate other people's riches. We love some people's riches. We hate taxes. We hate the government. We hate capitalism. We hate socialism. We hate other people's hobbies and interests. We disparage their views. And it all comes out in a silly article about the proliferation of ethnic cuisine in big cities worldwide.

Ed always laughs when I groan at the animosity in the reactions to writing about something that is innocuous and maybe a little esoteric. He tells me -- in fermenting chaos, we come to new ideas. You know what Churchill said -- Americans can always be trusted to do the right thing, once they have tried everything else. [There is no documentation that Churchill actually said that, but the sentiment isn't out of line with his views, which essentially were full of admiration for the American way of going about life.]

Fine, but I'll never understand why people read stuff that riles them up this much. If you dont like articles about food and travel, why bother reading them? I'm not a fan of team sports. Believe me, I spend zero time thinking or reading about who won where and for what reason. Or perhaps Ed is right? Perhaps I should engage more with stuff that bores me? Perhaps I'm not contributing enough to the ferment out there?

*     *     *

It is time to take down the tree. I love it so much and I have loved everything that accompanied it this year, but it's been up since December 1st and tomorrow we start in on January. 

I will miss it, that's for sure.

But so long as it is there, I will be stuck in a holiday mood. Time to say good bye and move on.

*     *     *

We go for a walk along a Nature Conservancy trail. 

 

 

It's quiet and beautiful. A little wild, a little muddy but nonetheless exquisitely beautiful. Not unlike the year gone by, huh?

(you can tell how the wind blew last night...)

(watching to make sure we don't invade her field...)

*     *     *

I prepare a meal for the young family. It's a tradition: pasta with sea food in a white wine sauce. In addition to the shrimp, fish and scallops, I throw in two small lobster tails split into 4 pieces. For the grownups. Honestly, two of the three young eaters are just in it for the spaghetti. 

 

 

[While fixing it, I put on, at long last, Love Actually -- it's leaving Prime streaming at midnight! There isn't a sweeter, goofier, holiday compilation of love stories in film anywhere!]

Here they come! The gang, bringing in the tail end of 2024!

(hats and noisemakers for all)

(they're dressed up because they've just come from a wedding)

(well, not everyone's dressed up!)

(dinner)

(Ed is out tending to the chickens so I do a timed release...)

Happy New Year!

*     *     *

In the late evening, Ed and I turn on the TV. No movie search tonight. Our track record hasn't been too cheerful in that department. Instead, we turn on the most recent episode of Just a Few Acres -- a report on the farming activities of a cattle and chicken farmer in upstate New York. It is about as low key as you can get: sometimes the episodes are about nothing more than plowing a field or repairing a tractor. Today's was about the local farmers market.

Low key endings set the stage for wonderful new starts, dont you think? As you know, I don't set myself up for failure in the New Year. I dont aim big, I don't resolve to change much. Tweaks here and there. More walks, more oatmeal for breakfast! Listen, learn, stay happy, because, well, it rubs off on others. I'm thrilled to have made it to 2025 and I'm so grateful to have so many good people in my life.

It's such a nice number. 2025. I hope it's good year for all of you. Be good to yourselves and kind to those around you. Happy, happy New Year!

With so much love...

December loose ends

Well, last night's movie was even more disturbing than the previous one. Ashes in the Snow -- about Lithuanians being sent to Siberia at the start of World War II for simply being engaged in the arts and sciences and making statements in opposition to Stalin and his rule. At least in the previous movie seven people escaped and three actually made it on foot all the way to India. In this one? There was no escape.

Why do we watch these movies? I think Ed and I choose them for different reasons: I feel that the horrors of World War II as played out in Europe and especially in Poland, belong to my past, even though I was a postwar child. I go back to it because I'm rooted in that era, on that soil. Ed has a more intellectual curiosity about the war. And so when we find a new war themed movie, we tend to watch it, no matter how depressing it may be.

Still, did we really need to pull out a movie about so much suffering in this beautiful, spirited, joyful month? Well, I suppose life requires a balance -- of the tough stuff, to make you that much more grateful for the good in your days.  But I swear, tonight we'll find something more cheerful! Maybe.

It is sunny outside. Just above freezing. About as good as you're going to get in December (well, for us, a snowfall would be even better!).

 

 

 

(hens beg to differ: for them, a snowless winter is a happy winter)

We eat breakfast...

And then Ed loses himself to a zoom call. That's fine, but the window for a deliciously bright and sunny walk is rapidly closing. My big task for this day is to grocery shop for the two family dinners I need to prepare this week and... well, to restock the fridge for the New Year! So long as I'm in Madison to shop, I may as well stop by a park that's very close to my store of choice. Owen Woods -- the conservation park that abuts the neighborhood where I used to live when my girls were small.

It offers a lovely half hour loop (that you can actually stretch out a bit if you want more walking minutes), with both a forest to inspire you and a prairie that at least in late summer, is quite pretty.

And it has hills, so you can patch yourself on the back for doing your movement bit for the day.

Grocery shopping is also a pleasure: I dont need a lot of food -- our pantry is not bare, not by a long shot. I take my time with it. And I think about Jimmy Carter, because my car radio was full of stories about him. (I didn't vote for him: though I lived in Chicago the year he ran for office, I did not know that I was legally entitled to vote.)

I think about his ethic -- his stewardship, his work to eradicate poverty and, significantly, disease.  You've heard about it all,  I'm sure. I haven't read his biography, but it seems obvious that much of his work was prompted by choices made and beliefs adhered to for the better part of his life. As I walked the aisles of the grocery store, I thought about how so many of us view the New Year as a time to make resolutions. They're usually good ones, concentrating on self improvement, on doing better across different domains. But of course, we can't all be Jimmy Carters, eradicating disease and building houses for the homeless. Nonetheless, we do have so many opportunities to do small stuff! On my walk in that store today, it struck me that I had at least ten encounters with store workers or shoppers and each one offered a chance to say or do something that would maybe sound a little positive, appreciative, helpful. I thought -- maybe we should not try so hard for the big stuff, which usually fizzles by around January 6th. But wouldn't it be grand if we all did lots of small stuff? For each other? For people, for the animals in our midst (I hereby promise I will cut back on calling the obsequious cat at the farmette "you dumb cat!")? Wouldn't that be just fabulous? 

Of course, we all tend to think of ourselves as being good and having kind hearts and great intentions. It's all those mean others who spoil the game and poison our world. But even if we do pat ourselves on the back occasionally (and why not... life is tough and most people do try to make something of it for themselves, for their loved ones), if we could only clean up our act just a little bit more, a few nice words here and there, a smile, a door held open, a note written on the spur of the moment to someone who surely would like to hear from us (maybe!)... 

Those are my thoughts on the day before the day before the New Year. Now, if you'll excuse me -- I want to do a quick search for tonight's movie. A happy one for a change, maybe? How about that for a good idea?!

In the meantime, at home, the tree still stands. 

with love...

December decompress

Wait, what just happened here?? Falshing images of the month gone by: a birthday, Nutcrackers, performances. Lists, long lists -- things to get, to do, to make, to cook. To wrap! Tree's up! Clasen's Bakery trips. Madison Sourdough Bakery trips. Batch Bakery trips. A playlist of 168 holiday songs, replayed many times. Eve, already?? The first of three family dinners to cook! Day, so soon?? Gift exchange, roasted bird in the oven. Buche de Noel! Day number two, with the arriving Chicago group! Gifts, food at a long table. Then came a movie and pizza at flashy Lucille's. And of course brunch on Saturday. Followed by the Estonian dinner. And a partridge in a pear tree! All in the space of less than a month. However did we, did I manage to do it all? How perfectly wonderful to have had, for the most part, good health throughout, so that we could group and regroup. And play and eat and talk. Christmas is the time of hanging out together. And we did. Lots. And now I'm reeling with it all, at the same time that I begin to unwind. Not totally -- I have a NY Eve dinner to prepare and, in the same week, another birthday dinner to prepare, and a week later, another birthday to travel to. But the heady rush of holiday happenings is behind me.

Typically, I want to take down the tree soon after. I have never had it up into the New Year. But this year I hesitate. It's still fresh! I still catch a whiff of it as I walk up the stairs in the evening. It still delights me every time I look up. So, not today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not.

It's a mildly cold day. No sunshine. 

Breakfast of leftovers. Ed joins me, but then a buyer shows up to purchase his old old truck (the 1992 pickup that I grew to dislike so much) and so he is out to conduct that transaction. Dance takes his place.

He comes back somewhat depleted (despite the fact that he got his asking price for it -- $1000). I ask him -- are you sad to see it go??

I guess I am. It was a nice truck. Quick, do me a favor before he drives off with it! Through the window, take a picture!

(It looks much better in pictures than in real life!)

Whaaaat? A sentimental side to Ed?  My love, you dont even hang onto photos of me! You want a commemorative photo of your old pickup?? 

I just wanted you to take it. We don't need to do anything with it.

Oh, the sentimentality of older age! It even hits a guy like Ed!

We take a short walk in our park. Not because either of us wants to, but because we know what season we're dealing with here. Next week may be bitter cold. Seize the milder moment to be outside!

The lake has heaved back down to a fragile ice cover and there are no fisher people on it today. We spot one sole person trapsing all around what appears to be a half-sunken,  overturned ice hut.

We ask the ranger (who just happens to be nearby) if that really is a half sunken house.

Yep. They have thirty days to remove it or else they get fined.

But how can they do that? The ice is not safe now, and when it freezes over, it'll be impossible to extricate anything from it.

These guys really push the limit out on the ice. He should have known better. We know him -- he's been fishing for a long time. 

But what if the ice cracks and he falls in?

It's not too deep down there. Maybe up to his chest.

He's not getting a lot of sympathy from the park rangers, that's for sure!

 

In the late afternoon, I go to my daughter's house to help take down their tree. She hates that project so much that it stirs up my empathy juices and I'm always there to wrap tiny ornaments (all three kids take down the ornaments and hand them to me), then help sweep up the mess that is left behind, as they drag the tree to the curb.

Well done, team! 

I linger for just a while. My daughter tells me what I already know -- this really has been our finest Christmas ever. Is it that we're all maturing into the love of all that this holiday gives us? Or that the kids are nearly all at the age when Christmas delights them in the best of ways? Hard to say. Maybe it's that the stars were aligned...

I drive home smiling. 

And yes, Ed and I search once again for that movie that will transport us to some new level of wonderfulness (yesterday's was about an escape from the Soviet Gulag. Now how delightful was that going to be?!). I'll let you know tomorrow if we landed a good one. I doubt it and of course, it doesn't matter one bit.

 (farmhouse tree: still up!)

 

with love...

December joy

Heads up: the post will be about joy. The kind where stars are aligned to bring to your home people whom you love more than you could ever say, so that you can put foods on the table for them, and then sit back and listen as the grown folk exchange stories and young folk put on plays for you and it all feel so wonderful that for these hours, everything else is forgotten, put aside -- all you have is the joy of being together in this way. Nowhere special, nothing unusual on the table, but still, every minute is about as grand as life can get.

And you have to wonder -- do the young people in your midst realize that this is it -- that in this nest of comfort and love and support, the greatest pleasures lie? I know everyone likes getting together, over favorite foods and in warm and cozy spaces, with family, but I sometimes wonder -- do young ones have that same feeling of intense pleasure in just this sort of day?

Maybe. Though I dare say, basking in the joy of a family moment is really something that grows within you more as you get older. Each year, you come to love small pleasures more and more. And the family gatherings? They are your your cream, your utter delight.

Morning: I keep a todo list these days, because otherwise I may forget, say, the pears that should be part of the fruit plate. I look at it quickly, and then head out. Animals first of course.

Then a quick drive to Madison Sourdough where I am greeted by the guy who always puts together my pre-orders. I get a deep satisfaction from knowing that I am greeted by name here! A sign that I have made it in life -- to be a familiar face to the best bread bakers in town!

Back at the farmhouse, I start assembling the plates of food. The young families are all coming for brunch (except one son-in-law for reason that will be obvious later) and as you know, I love fixing brunch foods for them. It used to be that I would be ambitious with the cooked dish: special frittatas, shakshukas, quiches, baked by me cakes, or muffins. I've learned to do less of that when the kids are this age. My big warm dish is nothing more than scrambled eggs with bacon. Everything else simply needs to be arranged. The meats platter -- turkey, salami, cured salmon, and cheeses. The veggie platter -- cucumbers, tomatoes, avocado. The fruits platter -- pears, berries and luxuriously this month -- cherries. And the best -- the baked goods platter, with accumulated treats from the holidays and added fresh breads to it so that I have croissants, a baguette, poppy seed cake, a nut roll, the holiday pannetone, and an apple tarte tatin, with a few gingerbread cookies thrown in. I mean, everyone finds something to love. 

And someone wants to start in right away!

The cousins plunge into a project: lately they've taken to writing and putting on a play. We get one in the morning, then again a second one in the afternoon. There's a speaking part for everyone, no matter the age.

(the writing of it...)

(and the grand finale...)

Okay, time to eat.

(mmm, good!)

And let me end our morning brunch gathering with this -- a photo that I just have to take of the five-some.

What? Shocking news! Grandma wants to take a photo of us!

 

Fine! Happy to oblige!

Oh, my sweet, sweet partners in crime!!

They leave in the early afternoon and I have a short window in which to tidy up the house and, too, to do something for Ed. For me too: a brief walk in our local park. Call it a walk of gratitude. I take in many deep breaths, exhaling, thankful and happy. So much can go wrong in life and yet here we all are, with food on the table and joyful, healthy kids at our feet. And the forest there, waiting for our next walk and the one after...

We meet up again at my daughter's house. There is a lovely tradition in place whereby my son-in-law prepares for all of us a traditional Estonian Christmas meal. (He is in part of Estonian heritage and though none of these foods are ones he grew up with, still, it is something we now love to share with him. A roast pork, sauerkraut, potato pancakes. He cooks, the kids put on their second play...

We eat (accompanied by Finnish beer: think notes of juniper berries!)...

(the chef humbly accepts our gratitude...)

And now it's way past the kids' bedtime. One last picture. Of all of them. To bookmark this most incredibly beautiful holidays season. 

How I love each and every one of those guys! No, really, it does not get any better than this.

With ever the calm and patient Ed now, at the farmhouse, totally content, watching yet another horribly dramatic movie, because, well, it's just a little funny that we cannot find a perfect one this year! In this too there is joy.

and so much love...

 

December after Christmas

Who will miss the tree most when it comes down early next week? Perhaps the cats.

There is a heating vent not too far from it (unfortunately), and I cover it with a thick book (Alpine Cooking -- seems appropriate, no?) to lessen the impact on the tree. It's a perfect resting place for Dance (or Friendly -- whoever nabs it first): warm, with the smell of the forest.

The tree has remained fresh and it has continued to drink several cups of water each day. Four weeks in the stand, and still going strong! That is the longest life I've had in a tree, ever. (My daughter reports the same thing.) Did the greenhouse bring in a load of newly cut trees when we were there? Maybe, but the better explanation is that we had a very wet period in the Fall and the trees sucked in a lot of moisture then. We're reaping the benefits now. 

And speaking of wet...

Yes, it's all melting and puddly and drizzly and wet outside. We have come to expect warm ups like this, but still -- it is not your typical winter day.

Breakfast: I'm taking a pause in the yummy department, reverting to oatmeal for today.

In the early afternoon we meet up at the movies. All seven of us (men are working, the youngest is napping). To see Mufasa, the Lion King prequel. 

(comfy seats, once again!)

I thought it was a tiny bit terrifying. Lions kept fighting with each other. Someone pointed out that no blood was ever shed, which is true, but it looked like any minute now lion parts would come flying at you. Of course, if you've seen Lion King, the 2019 film, you know that all these characters will survive. Nonetheless the realistic animals aggressing against each other (it was never about food, but rather about power) seemed over the top. Mind you, the kids liked it! I'm just stuck in the era of more innocent stuff -- movie material that these tykes would probably find... boring.

And in the evening we eat dinner out at a place that has become a post-Christmas favorite for us -- Lucille's off the Square. It's lively and twinkly, and both the adults and kids love it, and they take reservations for 11!

Lucille's has lots of decorations. Everywhere.

 

A whirligig of color...

But of course, it's these guys that make me so happy there...

Desert at the ice cream cafe next door... 

A grand day. More restful than any I have known this month! I'll take them all: simple or intricate. Pre-holiday, holiday, post holiday.

 

After, at the farmhouse, in his last effort to find a proper movie for this week, Ed came up with a British series from the seventies about the war years. We gave up on it after ten minutes.  

Tomorrow -- one last gathering at the farmhouse table in the morning, followed by a gathering at my daughter's table in the evening. It can't get much better than this!

with love...