Christmas Day

In December of 1998, I cut out a recipe from Gourmet Magazine for a Chocolate-Orange Buche de Noel. It eventually gained the status of being my favorite (I've tried so many!) and I've come back to it again and again. It's both delicious and fun to make, especially now, when the many required steps can be spread out over Christmas Day, because the farmhouse doesn't really fill with the giggles and excitement of the little ones until in the afternoon, when the horse knows the way to lead the sleigh and to grandmother's (and Ed's) house they go. Well, no sleigh on this warmish day. But the spirit is the same: I cook, bake, prepare, they come.

First then, Ed and I have our moments together. Starting with very early in the morning, when we wake to the ringing of the phone -- our internet repair person has come to work on, well, everything! The wires had been dug up and replaced yesterday and some gizmo still had to be installed and then for good measure the modem was replaced. Ed swears that all that extra work was for nothing -- it was likely JUST the failed modem that caused the outage, but the guy last night was probably woozey from fog and interrupted holiday cheer and so he missed the modem check. Now we have wires outside that need to be dug in (running underneath my Big Flower Bed), but they wont do that until May because, well, the season for digging has ended. But but but... my flowers! I will worry about that in May. For now, we have internet and Ed is out there burying at least some of the wire, in places where we may otherwise trip over it.

(Dance and I wait for him to come in for breakfast) 

And then we eat. Pannetone. Ed will probably never warm up to this Italian sweet bread, but I am so reminded of yeasty breads with raisins from my home country that I forgive the unfortunate resemblance that it has to a fruitcake. And the one I bought this year only has raisins, so we're good.

And now comes dinner prep and buche making... Finished just minutes before the young family arrives. Only "the dusting of snow" remains.

Here they come, each carting a toy or two from the morning's faves.

I'm ready for them!  No, I did NOT wrap the skis! I love Christmas wrappings, but I have my limits.

They of course spot the skis instantly and they cannot believe they have their own skis!

Sparrow is the expert unwrapper.

Sandpiper discovers his love for the jumparoo... just as his sibs once did! (Indeed, it's their old toy).

So much excitement! Too much excitement?

Happy, happy day! 

(Playing restaurant -- always a favorite game, even though one has to think Sparrow remembers none of his restaurant outings from before the pandemic...)

Dinner's almost ready! Just a few cheese-and-crackers to stave off hunger... (Sparrow is a real cheese aficionado -- loves aged cheddar and soft ripened brie or a d'affinois)

Dinner is a simple roasted chicken, the kind you find everywhere in France (if you dont have a rotisserie at home, you can make do, as I did, by buttering the bird, seasoning it well, then simply baking it at 400 for an hour) plus the horribly fussy Hasselback potatoes (baked in a cheesy sauce) because my daughter loves them so. (Plus a veggie and a salad because I love me my greens!)

And of course the buche, being dusted here with "snow."

 

Sandpiper loves the orange whipped cream inside....

 

As I clear the table, Snowdrop gets very curious about the telescope launched today. Ed is full of explanations and videos...

And soon after, it's time for them to go home. But wait, I want a picture of me and with the kids!

And here's where we get ambitious... Do you think we can pull off one with the kids and the parents and me? Ed is happy to do the camera work and considering the lateness of the hour and the number of little guys below the age of photo patience, I think we did remarkably well!

Such a day! 

I truly hope yours, too was full of color and light and love, no matter how you feel about this particular holiday. We all need color and light and love. There's never too much of any of it. Really, never.

Merry Christmas, in these last minutes of the day... Merry Christmas.

With love...

Christmas Eve

Hello, animals. Merry Christmas!

My morning is with NPR, listening to King's College choir, live from Cambridge England. The solo introduction, with its own story of who will sing it in any given year, is hauntingly beautiful. Ed would protest, but he is still sleeping. So here I am, following along with the story of a holiday that is mine by tradition, by ancestry I suppose, most certainly by choice, my own choice, selecting those elements that I love, not paying much attention to those that I find alienating or too fanciful.

 

 

 

And then Ed does come down and we eat a breakfast of croissants and fruits.

He spends the morning trying to understand what's wrong with our internet (it's down) so that he can be sensible once the Spectrum repair person shows up in the afternoon. Me, I study recipes. I have a lot of oven use coming up and I want to make sure I can accommodate all of it.

In the afternoon, the two older kids are here... 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

... to bake cookies. Simple but good. Santa needs a few to sustain himself tonight, though God knows he's got it easy weather wise. No great chill out there. We have a weekend of relative warmth. (And by evening, plenty of fog.)

In the evening I bring the kids home and I stay with the young family for dinner. 

 

 

 

A traditional one for us, in that I used to make the same thing for my kids all those Christmas Eves of now long ago.

And we have a FaceTime with the Chicago young family. Some of the kids want to put on a Christmas show. Snowdrop has written a poem about snowmen and one about Christmas trees, Primrose sings a wonderful rendition of Rudolph, and Sparrow gives Jingle Bells his best.

Juniper tunes us all out and Sandpiper sends his vocal regrets. Maybe next year.

I linger, watching their spirited antics, smiling at little Sandpiper's first Christmas Eve.

 

Christmas Eve. Beautiful thoughts of holidays and everydays spent just like this -- with the ones I love so much, with the frills and thrills of ribbons, bubbles, glitter, sprinkles on cookies and the sparkle of their high energy, their beautiful young faces, reflecting the wisdom of the ages: search for happiness and share it with the ones closest to you.

Merry Christmas, with love...

home

If home is where the heart is then I have three places in which to shelter it, even though only one stores all my personal belongings! I love my daughters' homes and all that's in them. And I love those moments when I pass through them -- at the end of the day, when I drop off a kid or two and my daughter is in the middle of dinner preparation, or on these visits to Chicago, walking the same blocks that the young guys know and love, shopping at their bakeries, eating (take-out these days) at their local eateries, discovering a good tea or a yummy wine (this time La Petite Soeur blanc) at their warm and welcoming home.

 

My older girl and I are to meet up with Juniper and parents (Primrose is in school one last time this year) after they run their morning errands -- drop offs, appointments, and a trip to Mindy's for breakfast treats. It's our final time with the little one. I wont see her again in person until next year, so do forgive me for my camera work. I want many images dancing in my head. Here are a few to share with you:

 

Is it "deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la..." or a yawn??

My breakfast buddies, attacking treats from Mindy's Bakery. With my milky coffee? Heaven.

"Hey, is anyone going to attend to my breakfast? Or maybe it's a second breakfast? Or third?"

That satisfied smile... (with Aunt Goat)

Irresistable... A newborn still, but not for long!

Candy cane...

Parents and child...

And toward the lunch hour, we drive home.

Meanwhile, back in Madison....

And at the farmhouse: the internet is down, the new high chair pieces don't fit together (we are on our second one already), the cats knocked down some ornaments. But the tree is lovely nonetheless, the extra ruglach cookie from Mindy's is delicious, and the candle gives us its magical Christmas glow.

This has been an enormously beautiful December for me! Without doubt a standout month. It had its share of tense moments, but they all resolved beautifully into this sea of warmth and love. I am so full of smiles...

And a partridge in a pear tree...

one week old

I woke up just before dawn. Lots to do! The gift of an early rise is that I get to see the pinks and oranges on the crab apples as the sun gives the first blush of color to the landscape.

I didn't want to wake Ed for breakfast. On a rare occasion, it actually feels okay to have a solo morning meal. Today was one of those times. 

 

 

 

I turned on NPR and listened to a story that was as warm and tender as could be. I'll let you listen to it, or read it on this click.

I thought about the legacy each parent or grandparent wants to leave their child or children and I know everyone views this differently, but in the end, I'm with the narrator in the story: I want my kids to think that despite the flaws or missteps, my world was one where we felt at ease and happy to express love and the joy of being together. To laugh together (even though I can't say the one liners!). To spontaneously embrace, perhaps sing, certainly hug and take from each other all the very best.

 

I return to Chicago today, this time with my older daughter. Juniper is a week old, certainly old enough to entertain an important visitor from "up north!"

The plan is to drive down early, spend the day, overnight at a nearby hotel, and return the next day, because, you know, there's Christmas and someone needs to do Santa's work, and someone else needs to light up the stove for more holiday baking.

But all that holiday-ing is not for today. This Wednesday once again belongs to Juniper.

 

Primrose is in school, but at the end of the day, she is home too and now we are many! I wont be here when all the cousins meet, but I can imagine the chaos then. A happy chaos of kids, aunts and uncles. For now, though, it's a bunch of grownups, loving the antics of two little ones.

We eat, then soon after, we leave because us northerners go to sleep on this side of midnight. To rest from the travel, from the grand play with the wee ones, to think about how lucky we are to be able to gather as a family again. And to see firsthand how quickly the youngest ones are growing...

With love...