Monday

A light, wet snow fell last night -- nothing to set you out on any winter sport, but it does create a prettier landscape out there.

Of course, the cheepers are grumbling. They were hiding in the garage when I came out to feed them. The brave ones followed me to the barn, but peach the oldest, gets stuck in the snow. It's the only time she willingly lets me pick her up so that I can give her a ride to where the food is.

I'm always uneasy about their treks from one end of the path to the other when there is any snow on the ground. It's such a slow slog for them, that any predator can dance circles around them. It's a good thing that the hens spend most of their waking hours exploring the barn or messing up Ed's tools in the garage. Out of sight and out of mind for the hunters out there.

We are to have a real snow event tomorrow. Let's hope it's enough for skiing!

In the meantime, breakfast ---

--- and a visit to my daughter's, where I promised I'd help with the take down of the tree. I read on some reputable news source that you should not keep a tree indoors for more than two weeks. That seems mighty ridiculous to me. Way too short a time, if you're watering it successfully. Still, our trees have slowly stopped drinking. Time to say goodbye to hers. 

 

 

 

The kids are enormously helpful: 

 

 

 

... they are the taker-downers and I am the wrapper and storer. we get it done in no time at all.

 (Sandpiper wants to help, I know he does! Hey, are you getting ready to crawl?)

(Maybe not.)

 

Tomorrow I'll take down my tree. Today, it still blows me away in its utter perfection.

the day after starts at noon

Is there any Christmas celebrant out there who does not feel they have to vacuum the day after the holiday? What, you? Well then your tree was trimmed too late (or else it would be nearly dry by now), or you didn't bake enough cookies and then were too strict about eating them only at the kitchen table. 

So the farmhouse needs a good power sweep, which arguably is Ed's one cleaning job here (I'll take a medium good job over having to do it myself), but today, at noon, I threw him out of the house and picked up the vacuum myself. Here's why:

The day started off beautifully. 

 

 

 

We continued Christmas with a video visit with my daughter, her husband, Juniper and Primrose.

 

 

 

Everyone was in good spirits. Shockingly, even Ed, despite the fact that it was a very holiday-themed visit (he prefers to keep things low key). We wished each other happy days ahead and then I fixed breakfast.

And things began to unravel for him then. He began to fret about an unresolved issue that had necessitated legal advice. He doesn't stew over stuff often, but today he stewed. (Ed has been knocked about too many times by the omissions and stumbles of trades people and professionals -- anyone from a roofer to a builder, or a plumber, or an accountant, or most recently -- an internet repair person. He's paid through the roof -- forgive the pun -- for their errors.) He asked my advice on some documents. I offered a bit of reassurance, but honestly, I'm not an expert in that branch of the law. He continued to fret. He called, he emailed, but everyone is hiding behind the holiday banner and so he got basically nowhere at all and this is when I threw him out to go to a place he really wanted to go to all along -- the Brooklyn Wildlife Preserve, where volunteers were sowing seeds on the prairie as a special Boxing Day event. 

I passed on tagging along: someone does have to vacuum, and do the laundry, and mend rips, and put away the dishes. Besides, I have before me a golden opportunity to clean out and rearrange my baking pantry, inspired by my daughter's -- probably both daughters' -- attention to order and neatness on their supply shelves. I have taken to guessing rather than checking what's behind the big sacks of flour, leading me to over-purchase such items as medium grade cornmeal and under-purchase baking necessities such as plain old sugar.

By noon he was out and I said what the heck, and clicked on my Christmas playlist, even though in all my years, I have never played Christmas music on the day after.

 

 

In the evening, the young family comes for Sunday dinner.

They are my walk in the Wildlife Area, not at all because they are wild, but because the kids bring with them that gust of fresh air and clear vision and having them here offers the best distraction from news headlines, Ed frets, and just about anything else that might otherwise dampen and sag the spirit.

Dinner...

 

 

 

 

 

Followed by one more cleanup and then quiet. With a glass of wine (La Petite Soeur) for me and a bowl of popcorn to share. We're celebrating a productive day that starts well and ends well. What more could you possibly want in life!

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...