Christmas

A beautiful day! Gentle sunshine and not a bit of wind, making me feel as if we drove all night and wound up in Florida's panhandle for Christmas.

Breakfast: this has to be special, no? Break out of the oatmeal routine! Serve up a... panettone!

(This delicious Italian sweet bread is stuffed with candied pear and chocolate. Almonds grace the top.)





Ed's reaction to any holidays is never grand. I did think that he should have faked a great love for panettone instead of grumbling something about the ridiculousness of stuffing candied fruits into breads, but then I knew all along that the panettone was going to be my joy and that Ed, who only sort of looks like Santa, was going to compare it to a fruitcake. Blasphemy!






I once again drove to my mom's apartment to pick up items for her...





... and then I spend a while with her at the Rehab center. I had cut her a chunk of panettone as well and once again my delicious fluffy Italian bread offering received a less than stellar reception. I think some people are missing the Italian gene. And me -- perhaps I was a child of a secret liaison between my mom and an Italian baker. Or I was switched at birth. In any case, I loved my hefty slice of that Italian style brioche with my milky morning espresso! Delizioso! 

Sometime in the course of the day I spoke to all my children and grandchildren. It is true that Sparrow favors repeating "hi!" again and again during a phone conversation, but I did hear that he had perfected a realistic "ooooooh!" each time he opened a present. Primrose being that much older is fantastic with her ho ho ho's and her Merry Christmas is super sweet. Snowdrop too loves to talk on the phone, but for goodness sake, this is Christmas! She explained to me that she couldn't answer many of my questions because her brother was making too much noise in the background. It was a polite way of saying " I sooooo want to get back to my toys!" She then called out to her granfather -- "do you want to talk to your old wife?"

I kept the Christmas music going for most of the day. I'd read that Ranker, a digital media company that ranks just about everything, put out a list of the top ten Christmas songs written by Jewish song writers: White Christmas (Irving Berlin) heads the list, followed by Chestnuts Roasting, Winter Wonderland, I'll be Home for Christmas, It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, Silver Bells, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Little Drummer Boy, A Holly Jolly Christmas, and Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree. I assured Ed that this added a multicultural dimension to our musical indulgence, but honestly, I think that he will be happy when my holiday playlist will be put to rest in the next few days.


In the late afternoon, Ed and I went to the Pheasant Branch Conservancy -- an open nature space that stretches to the west of Madison.

(Sandhills!)






It's a little muddy and it's not without a other hikers on this beautiful December afternoon. Nonetheless, it's a spectacular walk!






(view toward the Capitol...)






Yes, it's December. Yes, Ed is in just short sleeves.






There is a spring that bubbles magnificently from underground, turning into a lovely creek...






Selfie time, for sure.






The sun is low, the path is full of puddles. The effect is actually quite lovely.






Evening. For dinner, we had booked a table at Taigu Noodles for an authentic "Chinese dinner on Christmas" experience. (Taigu is a new place in town -- some herald it as the rare authentic Chinese restaurant.)

[A question for you: did you know that the US has more Chinese restaurants than McDonalds, KFC, Burger King and Wendy's combined? This we learned from a Ted Talk on Chinese food in America. Listen to it and laugh here!]

We changed our minds. Sort of. Being quite close to Taigu, we decided to simply pick up the food and take it in those not very Chinese little cartons back home, to eat comfortably on our couch, like the good Christmas elves intended.

Hello, may I put in a pick-up order? There are two spicy dishes we'd like... and maybe some eggrolls... We'd been hiking, I'm feeling hungry.
No homemade Taigu noodles? Have you tried our noodles?
No, we haven't... So maybe add the noodles...

We have a lot of food. It feels like Thanksgiving: there will be leftovers!

As we drive home, the post sunset sky dazzles us with color. So much beauty out there on this Christmas Day. I hope it made its way into your corner of the world. I hope you had a truly happy, colorful day.

Christmas Eve

Do you sometimes have a different kind of Christmas, or, is it always (wonderfully) the same?

Ours, this year belongs to the unusual. No kids, no family, no big gathering. Ed, that non-Christmas guy and me, the one who plays my holiday playlist nonstop from December 2nd onward. Together. Just the two of us.

We'd talked about going away. To a bed and breakfast somewhere in rural Wisconsin. To a farm. To Milwaukee, to Pewaukee, to the south to the north to the east to the west -- just somewhere. And we gave up on the idea because honestly, we love home best.

The kids and grandkids are all in Chicago, my mom is in rehab, and Ed and I are home.






It's another warm day. The sun is a tad shy, but still, it feels pleasantly mild outside. I feed the animals -- or some of them. The porch kitties have disappeared again, possibly because the shed cats too often enter their space in the morning and if there is one thing that Stop Sign and her brood don't like, it is an invasion of quickly moving forms. (Dance has also taken to napping on the cat stand, taking over what was once Stop Sign's space.)






I had really wanted just to write all day. From dawn to dusk. It's been a while since I tackled a short story.

But the mundane tasks of daily life took far longer than I imagined (don't they always). By afternoon, the kid play space is immaculate, the laundry is spinning, the Goodwill bags are full and the story remains just an idea.

(I set Ed to the task of building little Sparrow's Christmas car...)






All done. Presents for three kids and a handful of grownups!






To give ourselves outdoor time, Ed and I go out to play disc golf. The course is closed for the season and the metal baskets have been removed, but we play our own version. "You have to hit that tree!" is a common rule for us.

(pretty sky on the drive home!)





In the evening, we go to Liliana's -- a a family owned Creole restaurant a short drive down some rural roads, serving a fixed Christmas Eve dinner tonight. I have to smile at the menu -- the main dish is turkey. Polish people don't eat meat on Christmas Eve. I think even non-Catholics abide by this! It's so ingrained. In Poland today's meal would include beet soup with mushroom dumplings followed by fish -- herring, then carp. Definitely carp. (Many serve Christmas carp in cold jelly, or in the alternative with sweet seasoning -- following the so-called Jewish carp recipe, which is a little funny, don't you think?) For dessert? Stewed fruits, poppy seed cake, wheat pudding with sweetmeats,and  the gingerbread cookies you baked with your kids.

In truth, I never followed these menu dictates. My parents didn't really fuss with anything at Christmas time (they weren't holiday people) and so I invented traditions with my own kids -- ones that were more tied to things my children liked to eat rather than things that Poles across the ocean were fretting about. (In fact, a dozen years passed before my kids even visited Poland; I was pretty removed from my country of birth in those days. I go through phases with that.) But now, I have a mild desire to take up where my grandmother left off: my grandkids may hate beet soup and think mushroom dumplings as rather a bizarre option, but over time, they can look back at dotty old Gogs who put things on the table that smelled weird initially, but over time grew on them.

These are just thoughts, of course. Tonight, Ed and I eat turkey.






(with a mocha-pepperminty sweet thing at the end)





Are you tracking the eight little reindeer tonight?

Happy holidays... happy winter... happy...

sandwich

Isn't it the case, that this year's December 23rd is like the middle child, stuck in there, forgotten, as all the attention and fuss are dispensed on what came before and what follows?

Winter solstice and the first day of Hanukkah? That was yesterday and the day before! Christmas Eve and Christmas Day? They come tomorrow and the next day. The 23rd hangs in there -- not a holiday, not anything really. Just "the day after" and "the day before. "

That's why I love it so!

Since I am a Christmas person (by that, I mean I have always celebrated Christmas and continue to do so, sometimes against all odds: Ed, it's Christmas! Huh?) and look forward to both Eve and Day, the 23rd is when it all more or less comes together. You can hang back and appreciate all the beauty that is there before you, without feeling that you have to make any great fuss about it. You just take it in and let the smiles flow.

But when the 23rd falls on a Monday, there are challenges. Take today: a lovely December day of some sunshine and above normal temperatures.

We sit down to breakfast...






... and then I struggle with paperwork for my mom. I need some information and I need some signatures. From her. Witnessed and with the stamp of a notary.

First, a drive to her apartment to rifle through her papers and to pick up her mail. As always, it's a pretty drive!





Then I spend the bulk of the midday with her, trying to do everything today, because tomorrow and the next day the world of business shuts down.

Except it turns out that it's sort of shut down today as well. Sandwich days are popular targets for personal holidays. There is no notary to be found. The social worker does not pick up her phone. All is calm, all is quiet.

Ah well. There's always Thursday, the 26th!

For those tracking my mom's progress -- what can I say... There's the good stuff: she can do a lot more for herself today than she could a week ago, when she first entered the Rehab Nursing Care facility. But, her attitude remains stalled. Perhaps that's too generous. It's tottering toward a lower than low point.

I surely can empathize. I get to walk out of the Rehab Center, go for a forest walk, shop for mango (I ran out!), go home, light a candle and sip coffee on the couch next to Ed, who finds distracting things to share on the internet. The key thing is that I am in control of my day.

Of course, thirty years ago, when my mom was my age, she was in control of her day as well. Here's the reality that all of us face: if you want to live a long life, you're going to have to give up some of that control, especially as you near 100. My mom has been so lucky: she was that rare bird that even at 96, could live independently. The change to now a lesser state of physical capability is like a slap in her face and she is reacting strongly.

I leave her with her reading material -- all favorite stuff, the same stuff that she'd be reading were she home and I quietly walk out to attend to the rest of my day.

This is the perfect time for a walk in the near by nature conservancy. Owen Woods, where all is very peaceful, but for the squeal of a child on a stroll with parents, with a dog. A lovely afternoon for it, for sure!






I also do pick up my mango and another candle (Sugared Spruce! mmmm!) at the grocery store and I smile at the craziness of the shoppers and their full carts and expectations of grand meals in the days to come.

Unpack groceries, talk to Ed. We look at the holiday cards. His buddy sent one where he described the highs and lows for the year. I laughed at his notation of a low: one year closer to death! Sometimes, it's really good to keep your sense of humor strong and in good repair, even when everything else seems to fail you.


And then I'm out the door. And I switch my focus to the youngest of the young in our family. I'm off for a visit and dinner at my daughter's home.

Gaga! Try this cheese! It's so good!!






(Sparrow favors the crackers)


 



(Snowdrop practices sharing...)






Dinner!






My mom had purchased some music boxes for the kids before her medical emergency. I brought them over today. Sparrow feels the rhythm. Snowdrop joins in.






Christmas books, most of them saved from when my girls were young. Sparrow looks for any cats in the pictures.





Snowdrop had said earlier -- I love everything when it's just like this! It's a skill to be able to look past the muddy stuff and recognize magic. Kids have that skill. Grownups? We have to keep practicing.

Sunday, sunny Sunday

You have to feel at least a little guilty for loving this weather so much. Surely it's not normal to near 50F (10C) three days before Christmas. Not in Wisconsin. Scarves tossed aside, furry boots stand idle, snow shovel leaning needlessly close to the farmhouse door. So it's warm. Perhaps best of all, it's sunny.  That glorious light, streaming into the farmhouse from the east, then south, then west. You cannot get enough of it on these short days!

(Kitty, leave those lights alone!)






Breakfast...






... is followed by the usual new routine, though I mix things up so as not to fall into a rut. Holiday wrapping, mom stuff, house cleaning, mom stuff, and then Ed and I break out and go for a serene and quiet walk in the forest.

(Ed gets ready to set out; cheepers watch, with hope...)






No traffic noise, no beeps, tings, meows, vrooms.






Just dry oak leaves, which stay on the tree until spring, rustling every time a breeze kicks them up a bit.

We come to the Brooklyn Wildlife Area for this view:






And for the forest, no longer flooded with hunters. Just sunshine.







At home again, I fix supper for the young family's Sunday visit.











You could say it is an evening of dinner and dancing...










A lovely moonlight serenade to these fine days...

winter solstice

The shortest day. For us, that means the sun rises at 7:25 a.m. and sets at 4:24 p.m. (By comparison, in Warsaw, the shortest day is actually tomorrow, when the sun will rise at 7:43 a.m. and set at 3:25 p.m.)

Do you take note of it?

In the years when we have fog, rain, sleet, or even snow, it's tough to separate the sheep from the goats -- the days blur into a heap of gray indifference. The day doesn't feel short. Rather it feels like it never quite got going.

But today we have beautiful sunshine! The animals are out and about, Ed takes out his bicycle and goes out for a ride. After breakfast, of course.






This is when winter solstice has an edge over midsummer night: you may like your June sunshine, but it's midwinter sunshine that is most revered. The joy of feeling its mellow light is profound. And of course it portends longer days. When the sun sets on summer solstice, you feel it's downhill all the way thereafter!


My morning is all about mom. It's a new pattern for me. Morning -- mom. Afternoon -- other. Evening -- mom again.

I do have a rather good, long talk with my sister. It doesn't make up for a visit, but I can almost feel that Warsaw holiday sparkle passing through the Skype waves. Christmas in Poland is a big deal. Not surprising, since upwards of 85% of the population identifies itself as Catholic (the number drops down significantly in Warsaw and only a fraction attends church on a regular basis, nonetheless, Christmas is huge).

I want to bake, because a holiday season without baking is like a chicken without feathers (cold!), but I postpone it once again. This shortest day of them all is so lovely, that I pull out my bike and I follow Ed along the rural roads (a second ride for him!) all the way to Lake Waubesa.
I shout out -- We could go to Christie's Bar (a small local dive on the lake shore), except I dont really want a beer.
Let's split one!
That's embarrassing! Two people walk into a bar and order one beer on tap for $1.50.

We do it anyway.

And then we pedal back.





At the farmhouse we roast chestnuts. Ed tries to convince me that the microwave is good enough for the job. I look at him in horror.
What is the point then? That is a plunge into a cooking abyss I myself will not take!
Tastes good! Here, let's try it!

In reality, they do not taste good when microwaved. I do the standard criss cross on their flat side, stick them in the oven and sit back to the wonderful aroma of roasting chestnuts. Almost like the chestnut stands in New York City, only better!






A few minutes after 4 we go for a walk. For this (at 4:24 or thereabouts):






And this, after the sunset...






What words would you put to winter solstice? Happy winter? Merry short day? How about the same as ever -- stay healthy and in love with life! And to longer days going forward! From our house to yours.

Friday

It's a day with too few hours for what has to be accomplished. There is no point in rushing -- it will feel packed no matter what. May as well pump up the holiday music and move at my normal pace.

First, though, there is breakfast -- for the animals, then for us.





The shed cats have now taken to coming into the porch to remind me of their existence at mealtime. Stop Sign feels apprehensive about this onslaught of cats (they're all her children, mind you, but it feels as if she doesn't quite place them in the category of beloved kin) and it is my goal to keep them away from the food that's intended for the porch kitties. Today there are some paws flying and tapping at each other as they vie to get close to me, the bowl, the food. One sharp "cut it out!" sends them all flying and after that, calm is restored.

We are now in a week of warm temperatures. Meaning we are above freezing. That translates into no pretty snow cover for Christmas, but I'm fine with that. November gave us a brutal dose of cold, of snow, of ice. We need a pause before the January Arctic terror sets in.


My first stop is my mom's Rehab facility. (As a reminder, she had a stroke and is there to regain some of her strength.) We have a conference. She is in on the meeting, but she really can't hear much and processing a discussion of her progress is challenging for her. I express my concerns about several aspects of her current situation. I am not surprised by what the response is. I really do have to start looking for a new place for her after Rehab. Returning to her apartment is not likely to be an option.

I'm not sure which is more daunting of the three: doing the paperwork for this, finding a place that will accept her and that is well regarded, or accomplishing the move itself. It is perhaps a good thing that we have two weeks of holidays coming up. Nothing can happen until January. Still, I get on it immediately. Right after the conference. It's important to understand the options, given her particular financial predicament. And it is important to make first contacts with agencies that can help me process papers. Too, it's important to start talking about this with my mom, so that she she can get comfortable with the idea that there will be change.

By the time I feel I've done all I can do at this stage, it is after noon. I absolutely need to squeeze in grocery shopping before I pick up the kids (yes kids! Sparrow is up and running again!).

Typically, I really enjoy a very slow stroll through the aisles of a grocery store just before a holiday. I look at foods that magically appear just before the holidays. I redo menus in my head. I feel warm with anticipation. But, there is no time for that today. Too, I'm not cooking on either December 24th or 25th. Our holiday merrymaking will follow a different schedule, so that the various family members can have their fair share of Christmas time with each other and with other grandparents.

I fly to the store, I put on the music in the car extra loud to energize me, despite the absence of lunch or even a second cup of coffee, and I scramble to throw stuff in the fridge before heading out to school to pick up these two wonderful bandits.

(Snowdrop isn't ready to go! She needs to finish this gem of a card!)






(Each child loves to imitate the sound of a rooster. None of this cock-a-doodle-doo stuff. They go for the real thing!)






Orange couch book time!






I then take out a holiday themed Duplo for them. The age range for this set of legos is 2 - 5, but it really is too old for him and way too young for her. Still, it's a grand way for them to play side by side. (Sparrow tries to help by sharing his little "bear.")











Evening. Kids go home, I go back to mom stuff, reviewing with her several steps that are before us.

Supper? Oh, easy stuff once again. I consider it a great achievement to cook up a pot of brussel sprouts and cut up an avocado for a salad. A few cooked shrimp and we have a meal. Tomorrow I will do better.

Thursday

Just at noon, I walked a forested path and I thought -- how easy it is to find peace here...

And I thought -- sometimes it's hard not to be grumpy. I get it. Things go wrong. We can't control it -- stuff happens. To everyone. We get angry, we get grumpy. (I heard an office worker at a residential facility screaming at someone today. I wondered -- had the woman really wronged her? Was her anger effective? Or was the world just too much and she let out a bellow, in the same way that a kettle with boiling water releases steam?)

When I was a teen, I so wanted to be the person who never gets angry. Over the decades, I lost that struggle every now and then, but in my senior years, it's not been hard to not get fired up about the indignities that befall us all. The greater challenge is to not feel or act grumpy. Ever. I want to be that person described to me by a friend whom I encountered recently. She said her mom was getting senile and frail, but she was a dotty old chipper granny. I don't mind being dotty so long as I stay chipper!



Today is stunning, weatherwise. It's right around freezing, but the sun is out and the air is calm. December perfection! (Snow would add beauty, to be sure, but we mustn't be greedy!)






It's a busy morning for me. After breakfast...





... I return to my mom's apartment.

(Here's the pretty driveby... The lake is freezing over!)





There, I again search the place inside out for her missing item. And I find it! I take this and some reading material to the Rehab Center and visit for a while. She is at an impasse, but it could be just a temporary thing. Tomorrow I'll be meeting with the team of caseworker-nurse type people to set some goals and review the possibilities.



I return home, do some quick Christmas work (all pleasure to be sure!) and wait for Ed to finish his work phone calls. The clock ticks, the calls are endless. I wave good bye and take off on my own. I cannot miss this moment of good weather.

Where to? Our county park by Lake Waubesa has it all -- water, prairie. Forest. Birds.

(Two fishing huts! Are they safe??)






(Forest calm...)






(Ducks, geese...)







Immediately after, I pick up Snowdrop...






It's the next to last day of school before winter break and I sense, for the first time, that she's looking forward to "sleeping in" next week. She is tired. At the farmhouse, she chooses mellow books for our reading time. Sweet winter stories, some of which were favorites last year, when she was only three.






I take her home toward evening. Again I linger there.

It's late when I finally pull into the farmette driveway. I bring in a supper of Thai take out. We eat it on the couch, with an eye and an ear to the political news of the day.