It’s Christmas Eve. As I sit here, sipping a cup of coffee in preparation for my final shopping trip (um, it turns out I probably shouldn’t have procrastinated quite so much), I’m planning the lunch we’re hosting later today. On the menu, a selection of all the most festive libations from eggnog to cider to Prosecco to hot chocolate (peppermint schnapps included), Edwards country ham, buttermilk biscuits, and a green salad. Please try not to be concerned that I actually just listed four cocktails and only three edibles. Moderation, we’re into it.
I hope you’ve landed wherever you’re going this holiday. May your mug be full of something warming and wonderful, and may all the best, most beautiful things about the season shine through. read more »
Short and sweet weekend links. Good food, plus other stuff. read more »
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“Are you ready for Christmas?” seems to have become the standard holiday greeting, as though kindly store clerks and my fellow moms are wondering if I’ve prepared for the big meeting or finished my taxes. Personally, I miss the days of more joyful holiday wishes. Besides, organization has never been my strong suit; so being reminded of all the work I still need to do cuts deeply.
I take comfort in the fact that my family’s done all the most important things like watch Christmas movies with the kids and bake cookies. The tree we cut down ourselves stands twinkling in the living room. We’ve seen family and gone to recitals. I’ll get to the shopping, eventually. I hope. read more »
Elizabeth and I spend hours each December discussing which version of A Christmas Carol is best (This year I’m kind of leaning toward the Muppets one?). It’s a tough choice because they all have their moments. But the 1951 version is in the running for me every year because of the Cratchit family’s reaction to the goose Bob’s bought –– the sheer joy of a family in tough times savoring a simple pleasure gets me misty every time. I’ve always wanted to get in on some of that Christmas goose joy. But the Christmas goose is a weird thing.
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Last Saturday, we picked up our Christmas tree. Brian wanted to drive to the nice in-town place where we got a tree last year, but heading out to the country to chop down our own was very high on my things-to-do-now-that-we-don’t-live-Brooklyn wish list, and because he could see I had my heart set on it, we drove south to a tree farm. As we crossed the county line south of town, I realized that the “just over the river” place I’d picked was actually 30 miles past the river –– over winding backcountry roads of varying degrees of pavedness through the rain-soaked Virginia hills and forests shrouded in fog. We arrived, were given instructions by a kind older man with a very specific central Virginia accent that is best described as Southern meets Canadian. We set out to find our tree and after some slogging through wet fields selected a Norway spruce. Instead of chopping, Brian sawed it down with a dull hacksaw. After we carted it back, paid, and tied it to the car, we happily made our way home, stopping at our favorite rural pizza place (our favorite pizza in Virginia!) on the way back.
But in the backdrop of all this merriment, are a few stressors. read more »
I’m pretty sure that the work week after Thanksgiving is the longest of the year. And this one, especially. Christmas preparation and hard news are a strange and terrible combination.
Brian and I have been staying up late discussing the week’s news, exchanging links, and sharing social media discussions. After such a long, heavy kind of week, I’m looking for holiday escapism –– getting our tree, ice skating, making cookies, and all that. But first, my weekend links. read more »