Christmas Day

I wake up in the same way as I went to sleep: utterly content. Oh, there is a lot of tidying up that needs to be done this morning, and I know, too, that we are entering a deep Arctic blast, but still, the day is mostly sunny and the light snow cheered up the landscape and, well, it's Christmas.

For me, the heart of the holiday was in our gathering last night. Today, the young families will be traveling to Chicago and Ed an I will settle into our new-ish couch and I will reflect and he will ask -- what you're doing gorgeous ? -- words that he uses to express his own contentment.

Because it is very cold, I start the day with cheeper care. The two new girls -- Apple and Peach -- were born last March. This is their first winter and they are both puzzled and distressed by it.






Java and Henny (the old timers)  navigate the stretch from barn to garage (to check out if any people folk are out and about) knowingly and without hesitation. The two new hens on the other hand, are unfamiliar with snow and indeed, both get stuck. I rescue one and nudge the other forward and then spread out food in the barn fir all. I have to smile at this sudden status that Java and Henny have achieved -- they are the wise old girls, the same ones that Apple likes to occasionally push around. The old folk still have a thing or two to teach the new kids on the block!






(It is a beautiful morning...)






Ed and I have breakfast in the front room. The brioche, purchased at La Baguette, is perfect with jam and a mug of warm coffee.






I cut off a chunk of brioche and then hurry over to Snowdrop's home. The young family celebrated their own Christmas gift giving, but asked if I might stop by before they head out on their road trip.

Of course! Snowdrop is 99% better and she is delighted to show me some of her favorite toys.

Predictably, she starts off with this doll.  She had said definitively that Santa was bringing her a little girl doll and though she doesn't fully embrace the whole Santa bit, she does speak of him in the same fond way as she speaks of her pretend babies and favorite story book characters.

He delivered.

Here she is, with her new beloved.





She is much overjoyed, too with a doctor's paraphernalia. Her doll, her Gaga -- we all get our hearts listened to.






I play with her a little and then read a very long book together (with a timed release photo!)...






Her mom asks if I can stay for lunch and of course, this is justso lovely (a warm bready, eggy, cheese dish that just fits the bill on this cold day)...






(And yes, Snowdrop, predictably, does like brioche, especially with a slab of local strawberry jam.)






(What do you want to take with you for the car ride to Chicago? -- I ask her.  Airplanes!)





They're off.

I return home.

And minutes later Ed asks -- want to go for a walk?

I almost say no. It's 9F (-13C) and I have received more than one weather alert calling for gusty winds that will, by evening, make it feel like -30F (-34C) out there.

But in the end, I do go out -- for a very brisk and yes, very cold walk in our local county park. Mustn't grow soft!






Decked in warm flannel, wooly socks and a wide and comforting scarf (all Christmas gifts from daughters), I do not mind the cold. The sun will make any day beautiful.






(But you would not get me to sit out on the middle of the lake today. No, not unless there would be a warm fire burning in the little ice fishing hut. The geese don't appear to mind the cold that sweeps across the lake, but I am not a goose.)






One last look at the great midwestern sky, at sunset, just to the east of us...





And then Ed and I call in a food order. If we ever could find a Chinese restaurant in town that we both liked, we'd be picking up food there tonight. Yes, we are those people: if there's no family around us, Chinese on Christmas is just fine!

But we're not fans of what's out there and so we order take-out Thai. We have a favorite place and our order is always the same, and perhaps we should vary it a little as it is, after all, Christmas, but we don't mess with favorites. I guess the only unusual thing about this dinner is that I have with it delicious wines, since I was the only one drinking any notable amount of wine last night. One son-in-law really does prefer beer, the other humored me and joined in on the wine, but as he was driving, he kept it down to a small glass and of course, both daughters were drinking a ton -- of Martinelli's Organic Sparkling Cider -- a drink that they've sipped at holiday meals since they were very young! And so there are beautiful wines that have barely been touched and they keep me company tonight.

(Thai food, eaten... informally.)





Let me take this last minute of Christmas Day to say thank you. You've posted comments, sent sweet parcels, written emails (all in the space of this past month!) -- in general, in your own way, you'e shared your lives. I'm inspired by your generosity of heart. Group hug!

with love,
Nina

Christmas Eve

No one predicted snow.

Oh, it's not deep. You can't build a snowman out of it. But it surely adds a delicateness to the landscape.

A petticoat snow.






This is our big day. For this we prepare. And prepare. And prepare.

An early breakfast. Just a tiny one for Ed and me.






... because tradition has it that we all gather at Hubbard Diner for the big breakfast -- a mega breakfast that is to last us until dinner time.

Well, most of us make it to Hubbard. Snowdrop, who so rarely gets sick (having missed zero days of school for reasons of illness since she started attending a year and a half ago) falls a little under the weather. Her dad stays home with her as she recoups her strength. The rest of us eat enough for everyone.

(One thing to note from this photo: my daughter is wearing a dress that I wore when I was pregnant with her...)






After, I pick up breads from my preferred bakery and then I head home.

(The farnmette, under a lovely layer of delicate snow...)






We sweep the walkway, but the dusting of snow covers it again. And again.






I set in on dinner preparations.

The table is set...






The foods are scrubbed, prepped and readied.

The families arrive.







(Parents of the little one)






Snowdrop was to nap a long long time (after all, she is a bit under the weather), but she resists and clamors to join us.

Oh fine! Let's open presents!

Everyone has taken such great care with gift giving!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     




(Snowdrop hands over a picture she painted...)






(Then there's the quilt for a soon to be born baby...)






It all leaves us rather emotional...

... and outside, the snow continues to fall...







Toward evening, the girl rallies. The giggles return!







Full force.













I finish off dinner preparations (with the usual help of my younger girl).






We're doing our traditional Eve beef fondue --  which requires the making of five sauces and the preparation of the cooking broth  and, perhaps most important for those of us (Ed!) who won't eat beef -- a cooking up of a veggie platter: beans, spinach, wild mushrooms and braised endive, and separately -- potato rosti, a dish of shredded herbed potatoes, with a layer of melted cheese on top.

(The veggie platter)






Dinner!






(Trying to understand the madness of cooking your meat at the dinner table...)






And finally, the dessert: the yule log.






No problem. Love it to pieces!






At the end of the evening, we sit down for the yearly photo of grandma and her daughters and granddaughter. Or, we try to sit down for said photo. It's late. The little girl has no more oomph left in her. And still, it is a lovely picture of the four of us. I am grateful for it.






I know that bloggers can exaggerate the upside of life. I know this. But for me, there is no hype, no fabrication: it was a most beautiful Christmas Eve. It will be with me always.

Many of you are just entering the holiday celebrations. Wherever you are and how ever you approach this set of days -- may they be filled with joy.

Happy holidays, with love.

Christmas weekend

Our big family gathering falls on these two days: Saturday and Sunday, culminating in a dinner and, of course, a present exchange. I'm planning to do a retro meal: most of the components are stolen from Christmas dinners I prepared way long ago.

The goal in those years had been to not fuss. There were so many meals to work on! So many other things that demanded my attention! Still, the dessert was important. I got in the habit of fashioning a yule log.

And so today, after Ed and I eat a light breakfast...






... I set in on sculpting the yule log.

For me, the goal is to make it not excessively sweet. Too, I am doing it a day in advance and so I have to keep the orange flavored whipped cream stable.

Here's the log before it gets its chocolate ganache "bark:"







And now I'm off to meet up the young families for brunch.

My girls!











You cannot really tell in the above photos one obvious truth: both my daughters are pregnant.

There, perhaps it's more obvious now? (The same shirt is a total coincidence.)






If all goes well, come spring, I will be a grandma to three: the count will increase to two girls and a boy!


Yes, these are the holidays, but there is always time to just play. With Play-doh!






(With a holiday design motif...)






Dinnertime. We go to Salvatore's for pizza...






And now at Snowdrop's home... Advent calendar.






And the day ends...


Well, after a few more Christmas stories. Books read out loud, recollections recounted from preserved childhood Christmas journals.

Oh, the importance of stories! Did you read this article today in the NYTimes?  Why Holiday Stories Matter -- I think about how my days now are filled with stories, ones I tell to my grandchild and many more that I listen to as she develops her own craft of storytelling. These stories, our stories -- they move us forward. They sort through the trivial and pick out all that matters, that rests in our collective memories.

Tomorrow, the Sunday of our holiday, Christmas Eve in all its magnificence will move us forward as well. And afterwards, there will be the stories, passed on, remembered.

the day before the day before Christmas Eve...

For years and years, grocery shopping was a source of stress for me. You're saving for your kids' college, the car needs new tires, the furnace is dangerously old and once again the grocery bill comes in higher than you had expected. Fresh and honest food is expensive. For a person like me who loved to cook daily dinners for her family, a good grocery store was a minefield of tempting stuff to prepare. I didn't much care for buying clothes or clutter for the house. But I cared about food. Shopping for it was tough.

These days, it's much more predictable and Ed and I have divided household responsibilities in such a way that I no longer fret about groceries. Our bill is the same each week and includes lots of produce (expensive) and beans (cheap). We've found our groove.

Along comes the shopping trip for the holiday family dinner. There is only one big meal that I'm preparing (as opposed to the three or four I would have done in the past). It, too, is predictable. And there are no college bills, my car's tires are fine, and Ed swears he can fix the furnace should it act up. Pffft! The stress is gone. And so after breakfast...







...I indulge in the wonderful task of picking out foods at the grocery store for our holiday feast.

It's magnificent to be thinking about preparing something for Ed, and all the kids, and the grandkid.  A holiday meal is special and today I start in on the preparations.

Or at least I set up all the ingredients for it. In the afternoon, I put cooking thoughts aside. Snowdrop comes over to play. (She is on winter break and so her schedule is a little different now.)







I'm thinking I should shuffle things around for her a little. After her nap (blissful nap!), I suggest we explore her (much neglected, because she always wants to play "school") animal kingdom.

Before long, she has them eating lunch and waiting to be picked up by their mommies, or, should mommies be unavailable due to work, their grandmas....







Snowdrop always sets her own play agenda.





Evening. Ed is in the sheep shed, working through some work issues. The little girl wants to go outside.

It's cold -- I tell her.
I will wear my jacket and my beautiful scarf (she is so complimentary) and my pink mittens and my boots!
Well, just for a few minutes.

What was I thinking? It's never few minutes with her. We visit Ed in the sheep shed, then, with the help of a flashlight, head for the barn to close up the coop. Not done yet. She leads wants to climb the chip pile out back.

She is the queen of the mountain!






Heading back toward the farmhouse, she spies the moon. She never fails to address its splendidness.






Into the house we go -- not because she has given up on the great outdoors. She wants to bring her babies out. Of course she does! A moonlit walk! Who wouldn't want to share this with the babies?!





Night time. I finish my Christmas mystery book. I strategize my meal preparation. I put on my Christmas mix as Ed dozes on the (brand new-ish) couch.

We are happy.