Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
Oh, it was wonderful. So good, and so wonderful. Last year, I think I was in some kind of PTSD blur-- we'd just put down Diesel, two days prior-- and I didn't pre-prep enough, and I'd barely slept in two days... so last year was a little frantic and forced, to be honest.
But this year, there was free, clear, smooth sailing right into the teeth of the flurry-time. All month, I set aside a few hours Thursday nights (during Patrick's band rehearsal) to bake cookies, or make mushroom pastries, or make pumpkin garlic knot dough. I made cranberry sauce and chocolate cake on my birthday. The day of, I prepped carrots and parsnips to roast in the morning, and reheated soup for a light lunch, and assembled a big kale salad with craisins and apple and toasted pumpkin seeds, and then I handed the kitchen over to Patrick for two hours, and he made the mashed potatoes!I sat with my feet up and a glass of wine! I watched Delmer open his presents like a professional, on the living room rug! That was my favorite part-- the interlude between the madness and the madness, with the big meal and the long evening still ahead.
Also: it snowed gently, beautifully, just about all day long. Magic.
That long evening. One of the best of the year. Delmer bogarting the best part of the couch, Pete commandeering a lap, me succeeding in scolding my mom to stop cleaning and sit down!, all of us just baking by the fire and sipping our preferred sips and relaxing.
And then, it was morning. A beautiful, bright, cold cold cold Christmas morning.
I got up early, early, foggy from wine but needing to be a good hostess, and was so glad I did. I lit the fireplace and sat on the couch with everyone for a few more long, sweet hours. The best times are when the hours slow down and there's room for reminiscing. Time for being in the moment, just for a little bit, for thinking of the good old days, and telling over the stories that have been told for longer than I've been alive.
Ah. Such a good Christmas. I hope it was for you and yours as well!
Back Monday, with a buffet run-down. I did manage to get it done in time, just barely.