Wednesday before Christmas

Being a frequent traveler, I know how hard it is to get to a place in a timely way when the weather does not cooperate. I have real compassion for people who want so much to have a hassle free journey this holiday season. The weather is not cooperating.

Yes, others have it worse than what we have here. Snowstorms, downpours, heavy fogs -- those are tougher to navigate than our misty skies and our occasional heavy rains. Still, it is a very strange world out there this 23rd of December.

On the upside, it is so pleasantly warm!

I let the cheepers out, giving them some leftover corn as a special treat. Poor Scotch, our molting hen -- she is definitely not at her loveliest!






A look toward the farmhouse on this misty morning...






Ed and I have breakfast in the front room, but it could be any room, because honestly, the views everywhere are toward a gray and brown landscape.






And now I have my big grocery shopping to do and I have two willing helpers -- my daughter and granddaughter -- ready to tag along! This little girl is fresh from her morning bath, delighted to be in the thick of holiday adventures.






Off we go, on what has to be the busiest grocery shopping day of the month, perhaps the year. And the rains are now coming down hard, but we run for cover and who could mind anyway, since it really is so pleasantly warm!

Alright, let's work through the grocery list. Strawberries? Sure, I'll take one of those.






There are free samples galore and the little girl tastes many, many types of cheeses. Good! Let her palate develop!






(Ah, how well I know that stamp of parmiggiano authenticity! At least 24 months... the clerk tells me. I nod my head with approval.)






Snowdrop has an eye out toward other children and toward smiling people in general and she makes more than one friend along the way. Plus, she finds a penguin...






And her mom finds a Santa hat.





It is a happy shopping expedition!


The afternoon. Again I am with Snowdrop. Such concentrated play!






(And yes, that push to discover comes with its twists and bumps. I'd say the nose scab is healing quickly, no?)





The winds are howling tonight. The temperature has climbed into the mid fifties. The rain comes and goes. I'm sure many will remember this year's Christmas as the time when winter took a long hard pause. Me, I'll remember it as the time of my little ones -- with the addition of the littlest of them all.

Merry holidays indeed!

Tuesday before Christmas

In the middle of the night I worried about one of my pasta recipes -- the one that includes pumpkin. I had the sense that something was missing from my recollection (and notes) of it. I reached for my computer. I needed to sort this stuff out or I would not be able to drift back to sleep. Ed grunted, but with understanding. We are used to middle of the night wake-ups.

Mostarda! Yes, I'd forgotten about mostarda.

Do you know about this stuff? It's not really Italian mustard -- it's a chutney of sorts, though it does have mustard grain in it. And fruits. It's crucial to an authentic tortelli con zucca which figures prominently in one of the several meals I'll be cooking this weekend.

Amazon, help!

Nope. Not available until next week.

And then I come across a recipe on the internet for this fantastic zucca (pumpkin) dish (so beloved in both Mantova and Parma) -- and this recipe prints out to be some fifteen pages long and the author says that it is like a rabbit hole and I surely know what she means. You need amaretti (little Italian cookies). I myself remembered to pick up some of those on the other side of the ocean, but in fact, you can buy them here too, or you can make your own.

And the mostarda -- if you can't find it in your local Italian store, I'm told I can make it myself (never mind the long ingredient list). Now, the recipe does call for some candied fruits that aren't readily available. No problem! I can make those too! And so I am now making a mountain of things just so I'd be able to throw them together for the stuffing of a pasta.

This is one reason I love this holiday so much -- you worry about such silliness. Ah, may a day be this light and crispy (like an amaretti!) always!


We eat breakfast at the kitchen table, with cook books now adorning the empty spaces.






And then I finally figure out what I'm cooking and when, and I make the proper lists and check them twice.

Remembering the advice of a wise Ocean reader, I then finish my wrapping duties while standing upright. A senior way of dealing with the twisting and bending that big boxes require.

Done.

In the afternoon, I'm at Snowdrop's home. She's napping still, but I'm anxious to see her.






We play, yes of course.






And I'm not one to doubt that the little one loves me. We spend a boatload of hours together. But look at her face when mommy enters the room!






Later in the afternoon, my older girl and I take Snowdrop to the mall. Perhaps you'll think -- that's an odd little outing, but the day is gray and our weather is generally uninteresting right now and we thought the holiday buzz might be something she'll enjoy. And she does. (We put her in the driver's seat again. She's a natural!)






Her mom is looking to pick up gift wish cards at the giving tree. Snowdrop is concentrating on driving the car.






When she tires of driving, she enjoys being the passenger.






We don't really have a goal, nor do we have a shopping agenda. But we're curious how she'll regard the Santa. There's just a short line. One babe after the next greets the old guy with wails. Snowdrop? Here's the photo taken by the "Santa's helper."






We think maybe it's that she is very used to grandpa Ed's white beard. Too, she is just such a social girl. And finally, of all things, this particular Santa appears to have a toy penguin with which to entertain the kids.

It was a completely successful mall outing.






And in the evening, I bring Snowdrop back to the farmhouse while the parents attend to their social obligations.

She needs no reminders as to what's what. And of course, she has quite her special moments with the bearded guy at home!






They can be unstoppable...






She is too excited to nap. Well, I'm not one to be surprised. Wasn't I studying recipes for pumpkin tortelli in the middle of the night?

Snowdrop is, these days, a girl on the go. But then she hears the door open. Her parents are back!





See you tomorrow, little girl. I'm wishing us all a good night tonight! We need the rest for the days ahead.

Monday before Christmas

On this day, I wanted to finalize my final grocery shopping list. Gettin' there!
I needed to go to the post office.
I finally began the task of making tortelli in the style of Parma.
And I played with Snowdrop!

You'll see me in more of the photos and I apologize for that, but Ed took the camera away from me more than once and as a result, I'm ever present.

Including at breakfast.






Outside, we're experiencing those mild days that had been in the forecast, with not a small amount of fog. These are the fields to the east and north of the farmette:






But that's okay! My job is to stay indoors most of the day and the weather outside is only of slight interest.

I do start in on the pasta dough.






As I had predicted, the elasticity doesn't come out absolutely perfect this first time around. Ricarda eyeballed ingredients and by the time I felt her perfectly plump ball of dough, she'd made not a small amount of adjustments to the original recipe.

Still, I'm determined to stay away from books and go by what we did together in that kitchen in Parma. I persevere.






And then Snowdrop is here and I put aside my kitchen work and watch her get reacquainted with everything and everyone. Starting, of course with Penguin. It's not easy to move around with him in hand, but she wont let go!






Add to it books about penguins and the girl is happy.






I'm clueless as to why this particular animal is her favorite. She has one at home and she has another at the farmhouse and my best guess is that the softness of the fur draws her to it. But honestly, there's lots of other soft stuff in her environment and she likes it, yes she does, and yet penguin is never far from her side.


Our own Christmas tree went up yesterday: meaning we moved the Norfolk Pine from the front room to the living room, strung some lights on it and put up three ornaments. You'll always see this one in my Christmas posts:





I started using the Norfolk for Christmas some half dozen years ago when the official family Christmas was moved to a daughter's house. The quaint thing about our plant is that it has grown and especially out rather than up. It is now no longer just a Christmas tree, it is a Christmas forest and Snowdrop seems slightly taken aback by the whole thing. Still, we all do love the color it brings to this month, especially on a day like this gray one.

Snowdrop continues to favor her familiar books -- here she is, explaining to Ed that this book is about an "at" -- her word for all feline creatures.






She moves around now freely and mostly in an upright fashion. (Here, she has that "what next?" contemplative pose)...






...but when the world seems suddenly complicated, she wont hesitate to raise her hands, asking to be put in that comfortable position in grandma's arms.






Then, back down she goes -- to study intently the peculiarities of life...






(At her own home now, mastering the Russian nesting dolls.)






See, grandma?






Evening comes. So quickly! But here's the good part -- tomorrow, the days start getting longer.





I return to my pasta making. Ricarda would be proud. I hope.

Sunday before Christmas

If I look back on this day, three things stand out: wrapping, searching for my semolina and dinner.

Let me explain.

I needed a day where I could catch up and be on course for the upcoming holiday weekend. And I got it. Ed and I made vague plans to visit abandoned cats (don't ask), and perhaps to go bowling with a machine-producing co-conspirator who is in town. At breakfast, we talked, too, of taking a walk.







All talk, no action.

You can understand. There was house cleaning. And I did wrap things and in doing it, I wondered if Christmas gift giving got such a boost in times of modernity because of the pretty paper.






I had also intended to get a head start on pasta making and I was all set for it, but then I could not find my semolina. Ricarda and I made pasta using 1/3 semolina, 2/3 pasta flour (whatever that is). And I put semolina in my grocery cart, I'm sure of it. Or, did I put it in someone else's cart?

I turned my pantry upside down.

No luck.

The pasta will have to wait. I turn my attention to dinner for tonight -- a wonderful chicken in wine vinegar dish that David Liebovitz beautifully adapted from an old Patricia Wells favorite.

I have important guests coming!

Ed's colleague is here of course, but too, if it's Sunday, it must be young family evening -- a first one in many weeks.

And when Snowdrop comes into the farmhouse she just beams and beams at the familiarity of it all. She dashes to her play area and grabs her beloved penguin and just sits there, taking in all that's part of her world here.






Ed comes in and they do their own happy little dance...






And then we all sit down to eat...






And Snowdrop has her first ear of corn and she loves it, which is so poignant for me because I remember giving the first ear of corn to my youngest daughter when she was also just shy of being a year old.






Enough to make anyone smile, no?

Saturday before Christmas

On the upside, I do not have to go to the mall. Perhaps to some, the mad holiday rush at the stores is exciting. To me, it's horrifying. I like to avoid it.

And here's another upside: my travels allowed me to finish up present shopping. Perhaps the only time I find shopping enjoyable, even thrilling is when I'm exploring a distant city. I love entering stores with the bonjours and buon giornos that are required. I love saying -- that's for my daughter. I love that I have to try on nothing -- just eye my selected item critically and then say -- yes! Perfect! I'll take it. I did all that. No more shopping for me. Yay.

But as one daughter texted that she was done with her holiday preparation and the other was rolling up her sleeves to finish hers, it struck me that I am resting on my laurels too quickly. I have things to do!

But first thing's first. I need to spend some quiet time with Ed. We had just such a morning today and I am so happy for it.

I do the cheeper release (Scotch stays out all of three minutes then hurries to the barn where at least the below freezing wind doesn't reach her blotchy countenance).

The sun comes out. It's going to be a cold but pretty day.






And very late, Ed and I sit down to a lovely, sunny breakfast.





And then I shout for the world to hear: I am going to get organized! Make lists! Barrel forth!

The shout made me feel better, but I accomplished very little. Getting organized, it turns out, takes a very long time when you have a growing family and a double holiday coming up and where you rather brashly volunteered to host everyone for a post Christmas, Snowdrop early birthday celebration. My Parma pasta making skills will surely come in handy.

And when I finally spread out the paper, tape and the other accoutrements of gift wrapping, I note that it is time for me to leave it all and go visit Snowdrop.

Well, that's a nice diversion, even if it does mean that my daughters are more on top of this holiday than I am.

Hi Snowdrop!






Play with the nesting dolls? Okay!






She seems so grown!






And as of today, she walks like a solid long-distance trekker.






She studies every challenge and works toward understanding its resolution.






And when her mommy brings out gifts that belong underneath the tree, she is thrilled with getting involved in ribbon straightening.






These are presents? I like it!






(Virgil likes it too.)






I give this holiday a thumbs up!






Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree...






I drive home as the moon climbs to a beautiful December high.






And I drag Ed out for a walk, even though the sun has hidden behind the farmette.





This is what a beautiful day looks like.