and a beautiful day after...

The feel of the days after a holiday is so different when the family lingers! You hardly notice that the celebrations came yesterday. Today is equally special.

It was a busy day, but in a good way. I put aside worries about where my mom should be in a few weeks or a few months. I turned my attention fully on the young ones.

Primrose wakes up with the cheepers. They're raring to go. She's raring to go.






(hey, who's the photographer around her)






(feeding "the girls")






(hurrying to greet the arriving cousins...)






Sparrow is the quieter soul of the lot. Happy to snuggle... to have someone read him a book.






I make shakshouka for brunch. I know, I know, it's not the first time!





















In the late afternoon, we go to the Childrens Museum. Snowdrop is thrilled to show her cousin "the ropes."





















We stay until the Museum is ready to close. As I drive home, I think how pretty the downtown is at this time of the year...






Back at the farmhouse, a photo tradition: the cousins!!






Dinner -- I make chicken, shrimp and fish tacos. Ed fires up the tortillas.






There's a bit of cheese that winds up on the floor. Primrose helps vacuum it all up. Loud noise? No problem! The girl is absolutely fearless!






Fearless and infinitely huggable.





I feel this does end the holiday season for me. It's been a rough and tumble set of weeks. But with plenty of highlights. This weekend was surely a super highlight.

Christmas once again

The kids are here today and tonight and Christmas is making its second appearance at the farmhouse. It could be that the babes are all gifted out: they've had visits from Santa, presents and treats from parents, other grandparents, aunts uncles friends and people they've never met. They are one lucky set of tykes. Lots of festivities, lots of ho ho hos.

Still, there's the farmhouse and their relationship to it. Here, they'll always find a nook, a stack of books, some of their favorite toys and lots of their favorite foods. And a grandma who fusses and an Ed who takes up a disproportionate share of the couch with his massive form. And a wee stack of gifts for Christmas.

And today marks the start of a farmhouse Christmas weekend.

Predictably, I start the day with baking. A buche de Noel of course. An old recipe from that notebook (described in my post yesterday). It has to be light, otherwise it's just too much sweetness and decades ago I found the perfect recipe: The cake is just eggs, cocoa and sugar. The filling is whipped cream with orange peel. And on the outside, I put a very thin layer of chocolate genache.

(the finished log)





Another project for the morning: to work free the shells from the crustaceans, reserving some of them for a broth that I will use to cook the squid.

(the fridge has never looked so full!)





All this after breakfast.






It's a mad scramble afterwards. Put in extra table leaf. Cook, bake, whip that cream, slice those scallops. Poach the fish: a bit of salmon and monkfish, aka the "sea devil" (it looks kind of unattractive and it has sharp fangs! luckily, I picked up a prepared fillet).

And lobster tails! I always await for that day after the  Christmas when my grocery store sells lobster tails at half price -- two for $12! I'll steam those toward the end. Not now, because I see the gang is arriving!

We exchange presents. The kids play. They eat, they read, romp, and hug. I'll leave you with a short photo album of a beautiful holiday celebration. Of family, of love. And eating! Let's not forget about the eating part.

(the gifts)






(the hugs)






(the munchies)






(the love)






(the food)










(lobster? mmmmm!)






(forks! Yeah!)






(cherries! ohhh!)






(quiet time...)





Night time. Rest time. Because tomorrow is another full day of play, books, food... love.

care

It's hard to tell what another living thing really needs. What level of care is required. Take the cats: the matriarch (Stop Sign) has returned, albeit only with one kitten. So far.

I thought that these porch kitties had been scared off by the shed cats, who always come now to the porch and stare at me through the glass door, letting me know that a meal would be greatly appreciated. I try shooing them away, just to keep Stop Sign and her kitties here and unafraid, but Ed reminds me that we really do not understand cat dynamics. Who needs what and is afraid of whom -- this is all a mystery. When Stop Sign disappeared for a couple of days, Dance (a shed cat, the other mother in the lot, though with no live kitties here to account for her labors) hung out all day on the porch. It wasn't all about food. She seemed to want us there, petting her. Now that Stop Sign is back, Dance (her daughter) has retreated. I just don't get any of it. Food and a warm space -- that's easy. But as for their other desires and inclinations -- we can only make wild guesses about where they need help, and when are they best left alone.

You'll say -- if only they could talk! We'd know then!

That's not necessarily the case. Take my 96-year old mother: she can talk. She can articulate her wishes. But can I tell you what her needs are going forward? I cannot.

Perhaps it's good that I am not the one making that assessment. Just as people are trained to understand cats (to a point), so too others are trained to understand the needs of an aging individual. Still, these professionals look for guidance from any number of places and I do know that I can, to an extent, steer things in one direction or another. In other words, it's not irrelevant what I think. That's a bit frightening.

Ed spent the entire long day today reading up on what the options are for my mom once she is out of Rehab. And he's hardly made a dent. It's unbelievable how complicated the system of care and importantly, payment for that care is. My mom qualifies for assistance, but that assistance is like a deep dark jungle of vines, roots, sink holes and scary reptiles. You can get yourself into a pickle!

My sweet guy does not take the easy route. He reads everything. And he pushes options that I think are farfetched and it drives me nuts.
Ed, she can't possibly do that! 
Are you sure? 
Well no, but my best guess is...
The assessment team may see it otherwise. Or they may make mistakes. You need to be prepared. 

(A working breakfast...)











Most people don't have an Ed in their midst. Most are inclined to just follow the plan put forth by the person who does the assessment. And why not, it's all so damn complicated! When I first practiced law (before my work at the Law School), my firm represented health care providers and I helped decipher Medicare and Medicaid regulations for them. There are thousands and thousands of pages of regulations and that's before you even get to the gray areas of dispute.

We have huge numbers of people heading toward those years when they'll need long term care. At the same time, assisted living centers and nursing homes are closing doors because (what a shock) they can't find people to work their tough jobs at low wages, at the same time that government reimbursement rates are ridiculously low.

We are doomed.

Still, on the upside, I live in a state where there are a lot of service organizations that provide helpful assistance and, too, there is good old Ed, driving me crazy with his questions and his reading and his analysis of every possible exigency. Truly, things are progressing. In one way or another, we will figure out how to deal with the cats and we will certainly work on trying to understand what's good for my mom.

And me? Where was I all day? Life does not stand still. I caught up with stuff. Not all stuff. Not by a long shot. But, the groceries for the week ahead are stacked on shelves and in the fridge, the errands are run, the house is fairly neat. Give me credit for that at least!

In the evening we do what I need us to do: we sit on the couch and munch on popcorn. I sip a glass of white wine, and we watch an episode of the British show Grand Designs. Escapism in the extreme! Until Ed picks up his computer and reads me more material on what I need to consider in my quest for good outcomes.

And the candle burns and the furnace hums and the lights twinkle.

the day after

Most often, I like the day after an event or holiday. This is the time to exhale. The memories linger, the work is done. But this year, as I said, is different. First of all, I still do have a wisp of holiday before me. The kids and grandkids will be here this weekend. The cooking, baking, present giving -- I've done none of it yet. It starts Saturday and continues into next week.

But more importantly, I designated this day as the day I file all of my mom's papers for her eventual transfer out of the Rehab facility. This means that I not only have to complete filling out all requisite forms, but, too, I gather documents, make copies where needed and work with the staff of her current place on signing, co signing, notarizing and at the tail end, faxing it all out to the appropriate offices.

So this is my day.

On the upside, at the end of it, I'm done! Or, as the wiser staff member said -- now you sit back and wait for them to notify you of what they'd like changed. Or supplemented!
But you said I got it all perfectly in order!
They always want changes. Always.

Well, so on the upside, I'm almost done!

Did I accomplish nothing else on this warmish day after Christmas?

Well, there was the stop at the Seafood Center to pick up seafood for Saturday's dinner. This was actually great fun. I never go to the seafood shop because we get more than enough fish from our Alaskan CSA, and as for shrimp -- well, why bother when they sell perfectly fine shrimp at the grocery store. But today, I venture in.

In case you don't know your geography at all, Wisconsin happens to be a landlocked state -- though we are bordered on two sides by the Great Lakes, so we don't really feel far from water at all. But the closest sea is 1700 miles away. Going to a seafood store used to feel strange: by definition, nothing there is local. Still, these days, when they haul shrimp from Madagascar to serve at ocean side restaurants in France, you have to think differently about where and what you're eating. Sustainability, I think, becomes more important than locality.

Loaded down with all kinds of fishy things for the weekend, I come home and look over my to do list. Now here's an easy one: buy replacement cover for duvet on our bed. Sale time! Let's hit online shopping once again!

Unfortunately, Ed is right there by my side, adding his two cents. Or, more accurately, subtracting cents.
Do we have to spend that much on a duvet cover?
It's 75% off!
Still, let me find something on EBay.

There follows a wasted hour of looking at covers that seemed more suited for a college dorm room, or worst -- someone's idea of a place to chill and maybe smoke weed. You think I exaggerate? Maybe, but honestly, nothing, absolutely nothing good came from this exercise, except that I discovered that either Ed has terrible taste in linens, or he just does not care about their design so long as they're cheap.

And that's almost the whole day. Almost. I take time to prepare a grocery list for tomorrow and in doing this, I bring out my old spiral bound notebook to look up a recipe for a baking project for this weekend. The notebook never fails to make me smile. It's nearly 40 years old and many of the pages are hanging in only by a thread. Its contents are a history of my cooking triumphs and aspirations. They are clipped recipes that I found in magazines -- my main source of cooking ideas in years gone by. Back in the days, cookbooks were too expensive and so I rarely added one to my collection. But I was an avid reader of recipes in magazines. I cut out and taped in all that I wanted to prepare.

The tape has yellowed and so have a number of the cutouts, but surprisingly it still somehow survived heavy use -- all 90 narrow ruled pages. There is no order. Savory starts from the front, sweet from the back. Some of the recipes truly are of family legend stature. Katherine Hepburn's Brownies! Rosti -- a Swiss potato cake with bacon! Others I can only puzzle over: strawberry and champagne terrine (from Fine Cooking June/July 1998)?? What was I thinking?? Creamy Potato-Arugula Soup? Never made it. Thank goodness.

But mostly it is a life of cooking, summarized right there before me. Most items were tried and forgotten. Sort of like the every day tasks we take on and, having accomplished them, we move on to something else. Some are just as precious as dishes from the finest eateries.


You are wondering if I took any photos today?

One. At breakfast!






Tomorrow I will focus my attention on the coming weekend.

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.