December decompress

Wait, what just happened here?? Falshing images of the month gone by: a birthday, Nutcrackers, performances. Lists, long lists -- things to get, to do, to make, to cook. To wrap! Tree's up! Clasen's Bakery trips. Madison Sourdough Bakery trips. Batch Bakery trips. A playlist of 168 holiday songs, replayed many times. Eve, already?? The first of three family dinners to cook! Day, so soon?? Gift exchange, roasted bird in the oven. Buche de Noel! Day number two, with the arriving Chicago group! Gifts, food at a long table. Then came a movie and pizza at flashy Lucille's. And of course brunch on Saturday. Followed by the Estonian dinner. And a partridge in a pear tree! All in the space of less than a month. However did we, did I manage to do it all? How perfectly wonderful to have had, for the most part, good health throughout, so that we could group and regroup. And play and eat and talk. Christmas is the time of hanging out together. And we did. Lots. And now I'm reeling with it all, at the same time that I begin to unwind. Not totally -- I have a NY Eve dinner to prepare and, in the same week, another birthday dinner to prepare, and a week later, another birthday to travel to. But the heady rush of holiday happenings is behind me.

Typically, I want to take down the tree soon after. I have never had it up into the New Year. But this year I hesitate. It's still fresh! I still catch a whiff of it as I walk up the stairs in the evening. It still delights me every time I look up. So, not today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not.

It's a mildly cold day. No sunshine. 

Breakfast of leftovers. Ed joins me, but then a buyer shows up to purchase his old old truck (the 1992 pickup that I grew to dislike so much) and so he is out to conduct that transaction. Dance takes his place.

He comes back somewhat depleted (despite the fact that he got his asking price for it -- $1000). I ask him -- are you sad to see it go??

I guess I am. It was a nice truck. Quick, do me a favor before he drives off with it! Through the window, take a picture!

(It looks much better in pictures than in real life!)

Whaaaat? A sentimental side to Ed?  My love, you dont even hang onto photos of me! You want a commemorative photo of your old pickup?? 

I just wanted you to take it. We don't need to do anything with it.

Oh, the sentimentality of older age! It even hits a guy like Ed!

We take a short walk in our park. Not because either of us wants to, but because we know what season we're dealing with here. Next week may be bitter cold. Seize the milder moment to be outside!

The lake has heaved back down to a fragile ice cover and there are no fisher people on it today. We spot one sole person trapsing all around what appears to be a half-sunken,  overturned ice hut.

We ask the ranger (who just happens to be nearby) if that really is a half sunken house.

Yep. They have thirty days to remove it or else they get fined.

But how can they do that? The ice is not safe now, and when it freezes over, it'll be impossible to extricate anything from it.

These guys really push the limit out on the ice. He should have known better. We know him -- he's been fishing for a long time. 

But what if the ice cracks and he falls in?

It's not too deep down there. Maybe up to his chest.

He's not getting a lot of sympathy from the park rangers, that's for sure!

 

In the late afternoon, I go to my daughter's house to help take down their tree. She hates that project so much that it stirs up my empathy juices and I'm always there to wrap tiny ornaments (all three kids take down the ornaments and hand them to me), then help sweep up the mess that is left behind, as they drag the tree to the curb.

Well done, team! 

I linger for just a while. My daughter tells me what I already know -- this really has been our finest Christmas ever. Is it that we're all maturing into the love of all that this holiday gives us? Or that the kids are nearly all at the age when Christmas delights them in the best of ways? Hard to say. Maybe it's that the stars were aligned...

I drive home smiling. 

And yes, Ed and I search once again for that movie that will transport us to some new level of wonderfulness (yesterday's was about an escape from the Soviet Gulag. Now how delightful was that going to be?!). I'll let you know tomorrow if we landed a good one. I doubt it and of course, it doesn't matter one bit.

 (farmhouse tree: still up!)

 

with love...

December joy

Heads up: the post will be about joy. The kind where stars are aligned to bring to your home people whom you love more than you could ever say, so that you can put foods on the table for them, and then sit back and listen as the grown folk exchange stories and young folk put on plays for you and it all feel so wonderful that for these hours, everything else is forgotten, put aside -- all you have is the joy of being together in this way. Nowhere special, nothing unusual on the table, but still, every minute is about as grand as life can get.

And you have to wonder -- do the young people in your midst realize that this is it -- that in this nest of comfort and love and support, the greatest pleasures lie? I know everyone likes getting together, over favorite foods and in warm and cozy spaces, with family, but I sometimes wonder -- do young ones have that same feeling of intense pleasure in just this sort of day?

Maybe. Though I dare say, basking in the joy of a family moment is really something that grows within you more as you get older. Each year, you come to love small pleasures more and more. And the family gatherings? They are your your cream, your utter delight.

Morning: I keep a todo list these days, because otherwise I may forget, say, the pears that should be part of the fruit plate. I look at it quickly, and then head out. Animals first of course.

Then a quick drive to Madison Sourdough where I am greeted by the guy who always puts together my pre-orders. I get a deep satisfaction from knowing that I am greeted by name here! A sign that I have made it in life -- to be a familiar face to the best bread bakers in town!

Back at the farmhouse, I start assembling the plates of food. The young families are all coming for brunch (except one son-in-law for reason that will be obvious later) and as you know, I love fixing brunch foods for them. It used to be that I would be ambitious with the cooked dish: special frittatas, shakshukas, quiches, baked by me cakes, or muffins. I've learned to do less of that when the kids are this age. My big warm dish is nothing more than scrambled eggs with bacon. Everything else simply needs to be arranged. The meats platter -- turkey, salami, cured salmon, and cheeses. The veggie platter -- cucumbers, tomatoes, avocado. The fruits platter -- pears, berries and luxuriously this month -- cherries. And the best -- the baked goods platter, with accumulated treats from the holidays and added fresh breads to it so that I have croissants, a baguette, poppy seed cake, a nut roll, the holiday pannetone, and an apple tarte tatin, with a few gingerbread cookies thrown in. I mean, everyone finds something to love. 

And someone wants to start in right away!

The cousins plunge into a project: lately they've taken to writing and putting on a play. We get one in the morning, then again a second one in the afternoon. There's a speaking part for everyone, no matter the age.

(the writing of it...)

(and the grand finale...)

Okay, time to eat.

(mmm, good!)

And let me end our morning brunch gathering with this -- a photo that I just have to take of the five-some.

What? Shocking news! Grandma wants to take a photo of us!

 

Fine! Happy to oblige!

Oh, my sweet, sweet partners in crime!!

They leave in the early afternoon and I have a short window in which to tidy up the house and, too, to do something for Ed. For me too: a brief walk in our local park. Call it a walk of gratitude. I take in many deep breaths, exhaling, thankful and happy. So much can go wrong in life and yet here we all are, with food on the table and joyful, healthy kids at our feet. And the forest there, waiting for our next walk and the one after...

We meet up again at my daughter's house. There is a lovely tradition in place whereby my son-in-law prepares for all of us a traditional Estonian Christmas meal. (He is in part of Estonian heritage and though none of these foods are ones he grew up with, still, it is something we now love to share with him. A roast pork, sauerkraut, potato pancakes. He cooks, the kids put on their second play...

We eat (accompanied by Finnish beer: think notes of juniper berries!)...

(the chef humbly accepts our gratitude...)

And now it's way past the kids' bedtime. One last picture. Of all of them. To bookmark this most incredibly beautiful holidays season. 

How I love each and every one of those guys! No, really, it does not get any better than this.

With ever the calm and patient Ed now, at the farmhouse, totally content, watching yet another horribly dramatic movie, because, well, it's just a little funny that we cannot find a perfect one this year! In this too there is joy.

and so much love...

 

December after Christmas

Who will miss the tree most when it comes down early next week? Perhaps the cats.

There is a heating vent not too far from it (unfortunately), and I cover it with a thick book (Alpine Cooking -- seems appropriate, no?) to lessen the impact on the tree. It's a perfect resting place for Dance (or Friendly -- whoever nabs it first): warm, with the smell of the forest.

The tree has remained fresh and it has continued to drink several cups of water each day. Four weeks in the stand, and still going strong! That is the longest life I've had in a tree, ever. (My daughter reports the same thing.) Did the greenhouse bring in a load of newly cut trees when we were there? Maybe, but the better explanation is that we had a very wet period in the Fall and the trees sucked in a lot of moisture then. We're reaping the benefits now. 

And speaking of wet...

Yes, it's all melting and puddly and drizzly and wet outside. We have come to expect warm ups like this, but still -- it is not your typical winter day.

Breakfast: I'm taking a pause in the yummy department, reverting to oatmeal for today.

In the early afternoon we meet up at the movies. All seven of us (men are working, the youngest is napping). To see Mufasa, the Lion King prequel. 

(comfy seats, once again!)

I thought it was a tiny bit terrifying. Lions kept fighting with each other. Someone pointed out that no blood was ever shed, which is true, but it looked like any minute now lion parts would come flying at you. Of course, if you've seen Lion King, the 2019 film, you know that all these characters will survive. Nonetheless the realistic animals aggressing against each other (it was never about food, but rather about power) seemed over the top. Mind you, the kids liked it! I'm just stuck in the era of more innocent stuff -- movie material that these tykes would probably find... boring.

And in the evening we eat dinner out at a place that has become a post-Christmas favorite for us -- Lucille's off the Square. It's lively and twinkly, and both the adults and kids love it, and they take reservations for 11!

Lucille's has lots of decorations. Everywhere.

 

A whirligig of color...

But of course, it's these guys that make me so happy there...

Desert at the ice cream cafe next door... 

A grand day. More restful than any I have known this month! I'll take them all: simple or intricate. Pre-holiday, holiday, post holiday.

 

After, at the farmhouse, in his last effort to find a proper movie for this week, Ed came up with a British series from the seventies about the war years. We gave up on it after ten minutes.  

Tomorrow -- one last gathering at the farmhouse table in the morning, followed by a gathering at my daughter's table in the evening. It can't get much better than this!

with love...

Christmas Day, extended

Then one foggy post-Christmas morning...

Santa packed up and began his journey back north I guess. I hope the great great grandchild of Rudolph has the same genes that would give him a red nose -- a much needed navigational tool for this day. [Science has taught us a great deal since the first stories of Santa and Rudolph appeared back in 1939. (Rudolph was a promotional gimmick put out by Montgomery Ward that year.) We do know that reindeer live about 20 years, so the current Rudolph would have to be many generations removed from the original one, but the red nose, like red hair, could still be handed down to the current generation of flying beasts!]

Okay, I have a lot to do this morning. More boxes, more recyclables, more dishes, more tidying. Are you excited yet??

And breakfast. Late. With Ed. And with Dance. The cat is the more photogenic of the two.

There's tidying and putting away of course, but there's also food prep and table setting. And present arranging once again, for one last time.

And late this afternoon, the Chicago young family is here for Christmas, even if it is the 26th. People grumble about delayed holidays but I dont mind. Let me rephrase that: I actually prefer it. Everything is spread out over several days which makes for less chaos and creates more pleasure. It doesn't cram every sweet moment into the waking hours of just one day.

We do it this way: the younger family arrives, I concentrate on gifts and playtime with just them. In a couple of hours, the local young family will join us for dinner.

(Juniper wait for a few minutes. Juniper -- but why??)

Okay, girls, you can go for it.

Primrose asked for one of those Polaroid -type cameras, with instantly viewable photos. It brought back memories to when I was just a wee bit older than her. I desperately wanted a Polaroid camera and when I turned thirteen the company came out with a more affordable version which they targeted to young people (like me!). I even remember the jingle for it -- Meet the Swinger, Polaroid Swinger, it's more than a camera, it's almost alive, it's only nineteen dollars and ninety-five! But I didn't get it. I knew we were returning to Poland within a few months and there would be no Polaroid film there for it. Fast forward to 58 years later and here's my granddaughter delighting in this rather remarkable technology...

It's nearly time for all of us to eat dinner. But in the end, it cannot be thus. One family member from the local bunch is not feeling well. Not Covid, but nonetheless, there are markers of a bug. We confer and go with the wise choice -- let them stay home tonight and we'll see where tomorrow will lead us. Cross finger that this will pass quickly and we can gather as planned -- as an 11-some.

I quickly reconfigure things, taking out the five settings for the now absent guests. The table looks huge with its extra leaf, but I keep it in anyway, as (I'm hopin') we'll be gathering for another meal here come Saturday.

 

.(she's trying my fried sage leaves)

 

Presents, play, dinner. Fish with a horseradish sauce on the side, asparagus, pasta, salad. Batch cookies for dessert. Easy prep, delicious stuff, though of course, we have a lot of leftovers, given the smaller crowd!

Still, there are things to be grateful for here: we could have had the issue of someone being sick at the day of the holiday itself. Too, I have my older daughter's family here for dinner weekly. It is sweetly special to concentrate on the younger daughter and her gang -- all of whom live farther away.

We have a weekend of activities before us, but tonight, we all retire early. Everyone has been through a tremendous amount of excitement. Sweet treats have been flowing, the sound of ripping paper is still reverberating in my head, discarded present ribbon will be found in hidden corners of the farmhouse long past this day. 

It's been one fabulous Christmas!

 

 

And yes, I can still do it: cook three family dinners in a row! Pick up the youngest one with one arm! (Though not for long...)

 

 

In the empty now farmhouse, I was going to charge Ed with finding yet another movie for our holiday viewing season. (I was one of the suckers who believed Die Hard really was a Christmas movie! I'm being more careful now in my reading of trailers!) Feet up, goofy smile on my face, exhale... Ed, movie time! Ed? Ed!

He is fast asleep.

Merry merry December days to you all!

with love...

Christmas Day

Merry Christmas to those who love this holiday. Happy Hanukkah to those who love this holiday. Happy winter to everyone!

It's a beautiful morning. Blue skies, just enough bite in the air to make you feel appropriately cold for this season. 

Good morning, chickens.

Good morning European Starlings.

Breakfast time. Ed comes down, but he isn't hungry. This is not unusual. I learned in our first months together that a set eating schedule works for him... most of the time. His appetite at breakfast fluctuates. Chocolate and pear panettone notwithstanding. Hungry or not, he is sweetly accommodating for a self-timed photo. I insist on it because as the designated photographer on holidays, you rarely see me in any of the photos. So I insert this one -- to prove that I was there! 

The day is very very full. I dont have many traditions exactly because everything that I ever did for Christmas, I invented, or adopted from what books or magazines suggested. And then, certain things stuck. And one of them is making a yule log, from a Gourmet recipe dating back to 2000. (I tried earlier ones, but this one was the best, in my opinion.)

Yule logs aren't hard to make, but they do take time.The flourless cake has to be baked early. And it has to cool before the cream is spread. And then it has to set before the ganache frosts the exterior. I've done it often enough that I should remember to get started immediately after breakfast. But, I linger over emails and such and it's nearly noon by the time I put it in the oven. 

When it's out, I let it rest and Ed and I go for a walk. The sun is out and there is still enough snow on the ground to make us happy to be out among the trees. 

 

 

 

 

 

Still, I have to rush him when we gets back. His job is to tidy up, To break up just a few more boxes. To vacuum.  Me, I have to really speed it up as well in the kitchen. 

(Here are the stages of yule log making:)

For the main course, I want to roast up a chicken (Ina Garten'srecipe because her stuff is always very straightforward), along with potatoes (these are J. Kenji Lopez-Alt's -- his are never easy, but always good), beans, salads, scallops for the pescatarian... In other words, there's stuff to do!

The young family arrives around 4. There's time to sneak in presents around my cooking imperatives. And in fact this is easy, because the boys' tables with their legos and city tracks (and the girl's "airplane seat" for her doll) are greeted with enthusiasm and so the three are kept busy by the new additions, while I work fast to throw things together for a 6:30 meal.

(the doll was sneaked in by mom from home)

(too, there are always snacks, and new books added to their collections...)

Yes, the grownups also do their gift exchange. All except for Ed, who is part of the giving team but absolutely refuses to ever be on the receiving end of things. My daughters learned early on not to try to coax him into even useful presents. Over the years I've come to appreciate not ever worrying about pleasing him with gifts (nor does he ever buy presents for me). I have others on my lists. That feels plenty!

The last stage of buche prep is working on a good presentation. The kids help with this: they hit it with "snow," and lay down the branches I'd picked from farmette lands. And add berries.

Dinner is only five minutes late! Amazing.

The details of this day sound... well, ordinary. And yet, there is absolutely nothing ordinary about it. Yesterday, Snowdrop told me -- Gaga, I changed my mind. I do believe in Santa Claus. I know what she is telling me: she sees the magic of this holiday. This morning "miraculously," a much, much wanted cat (from the shelter, not from the farmette!) appeared underneath their tree. They all know this cat is from their parents, but the fact that there is this animal they've wanted since September, when their other cat died -- well, it may as well have come from the North Pole. 

I hope your day had at least a hint of magic. And love. Lots and lots of love...