no question about it

Today, a nap.
A nice long nap.
A day-after, I-hope-the-phone-doesn't-ring kind of nap.

1950s throw by Georgia Lowder.  Ganny to me.

gifts

On Christmas Day back in 2003, my mother gave me two special gifts.  One was a Waterford crystal jar, the other the small book, Gift from the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

In the wee hours following Christmas night, I placed the jar on my glass desk, sat down, and in the quiet, read the entire book. 

*

Whether you have known the beach, had a marriage or not, had children or none, there's "so much in this little book," as my insightful mother inscribed. 

*

I have shells collected from years past, which I look at with wiser eyes now. 

And the crystal jar...  it has and will always remain empty, reminding me that less is more.

christmas morning

oplatki







This is Oplatki, a Catholic communion wafer, shared in Polish homes on Christmas Eve.  It's a long standing tradition in Spoke's family. 

When she moved to Dallas, we began to spend our Christmas Eves with Kevin's mother Ellie, and Aunt Millie, her sister-in-law.  The two ladies spent much time together.  (Think a Neil Simon play; that's how they were.)

Until the later years, Ellie would do the cooking for the Christmas Eve dinner.  Of course it was always fish, and since I raved about them the very first time, she'd make Egg Noodles with Poppy Seeds, just for me.  She was like that. 

The Oplatki, often blessed by parish priests, would be waiting on a small china plate and when dinner was ready, Ellie would break the wafers.

You'd be given a piece which you'd offer some of to another person, taking a piece of theirs at the same time.  You'd both eat the wafer as you do at Holy Communion, then hug and wish each other blessings for the coming year.  By tradition, you will break bread with everyone present. 

There may be lumps-in-throats, even tiny tears, as one might get a little sentimental, or come to realize any old issues just melted away. 

Spoke and I would put on a big, romantic show for the ladies when we were sharing our Oplatki.  They got such a kick out of that.

I'm proof that you don't have to be Polish or Catholic to celebrate with Oplatki.  I highly recommend it.  It's quite a warm-fuzzies tradition. 

a caveat for santa

here we go

Bah Humbug!

So much to do and so little time.  No cheer to be found. 

That whirlwind of unwanted but unavoidable activity, is coming.

It's coming on Christmas,

they're cutting down trees.

They're putting up reindeer 

and singing songs of joy and peace.

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on....

Sigh. 

Better get to it.  

We have an odd, narrow hall closet where we tuck away boxes and boxes of Christmas ornaments.  I  unwrap old ones...

and newer ones...

   

Spoke pours me champagne. 

Sigh. 

I take a break.  Relax.  The wind is really howling this evening and I find myself humming again.

The snow is snowing,

the wind is blowing...

Before I know it, the wreath is on the door, every room in the house glitters, and I'm thinking maybe tomorrow I'll make that cranberry sauce. 

Sigh. 

Bring it on.  I'm ready.

Jalapeno Cranberry Sauce

12 ounces fresh cranberries

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 cup water

1 jalapeno, seeds and membrane removed, chopped fine

zest of one orange

juice of one orange

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

several gratings of fresh nutmeg

Place all ingredients together in a saucepan and bring to a boil. 

Reduce the heat to medium low, cover but with the lid cracked open a little, and simmer until the cranberries have popped and the mixture has cooked down to a sauce consistency. 

It will thicken as it cools.

{This is the sauce that Dear Old Dad exclaimed at Thanksgiving,

"is so good it should be bottled and sold". 

The very dad who refuses to knowingly (wink-wink) eat anything with a jalapeno in it.}

RIVER by Joni Mitchell

I'VE GOT MY LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM by Irving Berlin

5:17 PM