Christmas Cardinals

My dad was a baseball fan and the St Louis Cardinals were his team.  He passed on the love of baseball to both my sister and me.  In turn, I passed it on to my son.  Via Grandpa, JT became a Cardinals fan.  Some of my fondest memories are the sound of the two of them on the phone, dissecting their team’s prospects and celebrating their triumphs.   My Dad’s passing earlier this year made the 2023 baseball season bittersweet for me.  But I’ve found comfort in memories of Dad brought on by cardinals.  This set reminds me of the joy he found in his three grandsons.  It’s made me happy all of the holiday season, a reminder that Dad is still here to celebrate his boys, cheer on his team, condemn Republican stupidity, and look after us.

Alchemy For Peace

Each year’s Christmas tree is a beauty all its own.  The magic of twinkling lights on a tree bejeweled with ornaments that tell the story of my life is never lost on me. I welcome the light it brings in December’s darkness.   

The world is a hard place right now and for me the tree is a reminder to be grateful for the many blessings in my life.  Tonight it seems especially lovely and my heart is grateful. I hope that this bit of holiday joy can be a beacon for more peace in a world that badly needs it.  

Among the Trees: A Christmas Tradition

 All year long, I’ve reserved the 5th of each month for a post about the places I go for walks.  Mostly, I like to walk in the woods and most frequently, I walk in the woods at Colonial Park.  Since my hip took its turn to  dreadful in August, I haven’t really been able to go for a walk.  As I wait for the hip replacement I so desperately need, I’ve become more and more disabled.  These days, I can stand for just a few minutes and only walk very short distances.  I haven’t been to Colonial Park since September.  I could go, of course, and sit on a bench and admire the nature around me, but I have found doing so very sad, not the source of peace and joy that it once was.  Deep inside me, is a fury and anger about the way in which denial of healthcare has served to disable me further.  Being forced to sit in a place I once walked in is yet another reminder that my life doesn’t matter because I am fat.   It’s hard enough to live as I do right now without that reminder.  I’m saving my favorite places for that point in the future when I’ve lost enough weight to be allowed a new hip.  But trees are my evidence that the universe is splendid and I do take time to admire them.  This month, that came in the form of a trip to select our Christmas tree.  JT led the adventure, which enabled me to be confident that I could walk and stand long enough.  We visited Home Depot at twilight and the rows of balsams and fir trees smelled amazing.  

This year we chose a balsam tree and JT loaded it up, secured it in the stand, and then brought it inside for us to decorate.  

The house smells amazing and soon enough, this gem will have twinkling lights and ornaments.  Choosing a tree is one of my favorite Christmas traditions and I’m grateful that JT helped to make it happen this year.

Cooking Journal: Sunday Supper

At the inclusion of the memorial service for my dad, we invited everyone to join us for Sunday dinner, which was one of my dad’s favorite traditions.  My sister and her family - who lived in my hometown - went to my parents for supper every Sunday.  I’ve long been gone from my hometown, but I joined my share of Sunday dinners when I visited.  When I first moved far away from home, I missed dinners with my family.

My home has a similar Sunday tradition, though I call it supper, a nod to my time spent in Tennessee.  On Sundays, I usually make a dessert to go with the meal. As it happens, though Sunday is often a fancier meal, I serve supper most nights of the week.  We eat in the dining room or, if the weather is warm, on the back deck.  Even when I am the only diner, I take care to make myself a meal and set the table.  It’s a habit I picked up from my parents and it’s one that I value.  I find eating in front of the TV appalling.  Making and serving a homemade meal is how I show people that I love and care for them.  My ability to put a homemade meal on the table is one of the things I like best about myself.  It’s a bit old-fashioned, I guess, but I think that family meals are important.  I probably would have made a great farmer’s wife….and the irony of that statement is not lost on me.  

The older I get the more I think about the traditions and the habits that are the backbone of my daily life.  I think about their origins and their value to me.  I appreciate and value them as they deserve.

December Book Report: Christmas Stories

When I was truly able to settle into Winter Break, I pulled out three holiday books to read.  Two of them, the books by Miss Read and Alice Taylor, are long-standing holiday favorites.  Reading them is a tradition that I look forward to and always enjoy.  The third, a mystery by Georgette Heyer, was new to me.  I read them all at once for the days before Christmas and they were a happy pause from the real world. 

Books are my comfort and joy in all times and that has especially been the case in this difficult year when there was extra time to read even as I had a greater need than usual to be comforted by good stories.   I am always grateful for the power of the written word and this year that was especially true.

Your Weekly Amaryllis: Just Planted

For Christmas, T gave me an amaryllis bulb from Burpee Seed Company.  It is one of my most favorite traditions to plant this flower in the cold and dark Winter season.  I planted this year’s bulb yesterday.  It sits among the happy plants in the Southeast window, where it will soak up all the morning sunlight that comes along.  

And now we wait.

I watch the bulb daily, always mindful that this stark season is the only way forward to flowers, green grass, and the Summer Solstice light that will be all the more welcome for its comparative shortage during the Winter season.  

The amaryllis bulb isn’t just for marking time while I daydream about the arrival of Spring.  It reminds me to pause and appreciate this cozy season.  And in this time when so much of what seems normal is on pause, I am grateful and glad to have this usual tradition at hand.  

Making Merry

We had a quiet but happy Christmas.  The tree was lovely, as Christmas trees always seem to be.  Santa paid us a visit and filled our stockings.

There was a Christmas feast.

We talked with family, laughed together, and counted our many blessings in this most difficult of years.  Merry Christmas, y’all!

Bulletin Board Season Opener

My annual bulletin board (which is really more of an inspiration board) is one of my favorite back-to-school traditions.  In all the insanity of planning for our hybrid teaching school year, I considered letting last year’s board hang around.  But I love this tradition and spend all year collecting things for my bulletin board and so last week I set to work on the 2020-2021 bulletin board.

I am glad that I found the time because it makes me happy every day.

Biscuit Magician

Though I’ve been making them for more than 30 years, I always love to stir together a batch of homemade biscuits.  My biscuit-making career started with the help of my now kitchen-stained Better Homes and Garden cookbook.  Using that recipe, I taught myself to make biscuits.  Over the years, I’ve read countless recipes and cooking magazine articles about the making of biscuits and then I’ve honed my technique accordingly.  I can make all sort of biscuits: sourdough, cheese, cornmeal, angel……but my favorite is the delicious old-fashioned basic: a buttermilk biscuit.

Buttermilk was not a regular part of my mother’s kitchen, but is was a part of my grandmother’s and it was certainly present in the Southern kitchens where I honed my biscuit-making skills.  I don’t always have fresh buttermilk on hand but when I do buy it at the market, usually to make fried chicken, blue cheese salad dressing, or chocolate cake, I always make sure to stir up some fresh buttermilk biscuits.

I

I measure the ingredients into a big bowl and as I stir together the dough, memories of previous biscuits flow through my mind.  Biscuits cut into a heart shape for an impromptu Valentine’s Day celebration; biscuits served with bacon, cream gravy, and scrambled eggs on a cold Winter morning; biscuits made in a hot Summer kitchen to slather with a batch of freshly-made jam; the batch I made at JT’s request in the fleeting days before we loaded up the car and drove him to college…..my memory fills with an steady parade of warm biscuits.  

I cut them out and line them up on the baking sheet, taking care that they lightly touch one another and then carefully dimpling each one with a slight press of my thumb before I slide the pan into a hot oven.

12 minutes later, there is a basket full of steamy hot biscuits, ready for hungry eaters and stirred together with memories and loves as the unspoken but magical ingredient.  

Pretty Packages

These little treats are Valentines for some deserving friends.

They turned out well and I am reminded again how very happy it makes me to have pretty gift tags, cheerful ribbons, and bright wrapping paper ready to make a pretty package.

Your Weekly Amaryllis: Week One

 Every year, in preparation for my coming dotage, I require an amaryllis bulb for Christmas.  T aids this tradition and word on the packaging is confirmed by her: this year, we’ll have a pink amaryllis, as I requested.  I planted it last week.  Now it’s nestled in among the plants on the plant stand where there is plenty of Winter light to get the party started.

This Winter tradition keeps me mindful that the payoff for the cold comes in the form of the beauty of Spring.  For the next few weeks, I will enjoy watching the stem grow and prepare to bloom with a splendid flower.  Amaryllis reports will happen every Wednesday.  

That’s happy!

A Lucky New Year

Black Eyed peas for good luck in the New Year are an absolute requirement for my celebration.  Usually, I make a bowl of Texas Caviar to meet our good luck needs —— it’s a dip that features black-eyed peas but my recipe makes a heap.  This year, we had a smaller celebration and so I made Zannie’s Dip, a hot black-eyed pea-based dish that served our good luck purposes and was delicious to boot. 

I love a tradition that reminds me of so many memories.  Black eyed peas does just that.  That it tastes delicious is just gravy on a tradition.  Happy New Year, Y’all! 

New Year’s Eve Tradition

Fact:  My greatest culinary powers lie in the realm of appetizers.  I put out a spread.

Additional fact: It’s delicious.

I’m drinking quality bourbon, kissing my sweetie, and counting my blessings.  That’s a Happy New Year!

A Happy Christmas

We had a busy holiday at Sassafras House.  My parents are visiting, JT is home, and the little kitchen was put to the test.  In the midst of all the busyness and conversations, I enjoyed the quiet of lighting the paper bag luminaries that are a Christmas Eve tradition in my town.

On Christmas Eve, I paused to admire the tree with its twinkly lights and pretty packages.

Playing Santa is always a treat…

…even if my “believer” is rather large.

Tiger enjoyed his cat nip treat.

It was nice to have my parents at the table for Christmas supper.

It was a simple day of happy traditions and I enjoyed it very much. 

That’s happy!

Santa!

Every Christmas Eve, Santa drives through our town accompanied by an assortment of the emergency vehicles that the town possesses.  It’s New Jersey tradition, one that I always enjoy.  When JT was a little boy, the excitement of Santa’s trip through town could barely be contained.  These days, I am charmed by the neighborhood children who come out to wave.

I never grow tired of the joy that Santa brings and this year, watching on my front porch with my parents, it was a special treat.

I believe.

Memory Tree

On Saturday evening, T and I got the year’s Christmas tree and set it in the  stand.  Yesterday, I got out the Christmas decorations and set to work with lights for the tree, stockings for the banister, and all the happy traditions that are the backdrop for our celebrations.

Over the years, I've come to regard the twinkly lights and festive decorations as one of the best parts of December, a welcome antidote to the fading daylight as the Winter solstice approaches.  The cheerful decoration and lights make our home welcoming and cozy.

Hanging ornaments on the tree is more than just a pleasing tradition, it’s a chance to think about some very happy memories.  When I hang one of my very first Christmas ornaments, one that hung on the trees I put up in my apartment in Nashville many years ago, I think about how much I loved living in that city.

There is a Santa ornament that reminds me of a boy who believed with all his heart, a joy and confidence that was magic to experience.

Each year, I give JT an ornament that he can one day take to his own home and tree.  This guitar was the ornament JT received the year he was three and was obsessed with a toy guitar.

For many years, JT received a moose for Christmas.  Over the years, there have been moose stuffed toys, books with a moose, a moose figurine in his stocking.  This moose Christmas ornament, part of JT’s collection, reminds me all those moose surprises over the years.

This tiny mercury glass bauble was a gift to myself many years ago, when I was first a Mama on my own.  Things were sometimes hard then and I worried that holidays would also be hard.  But that first Christmas on our own was joyful and lovely.  This ornament reminds me to believe in myself. 

I could go on; my mind swims with memories as I hang the ornaments on the tree.  It is in the stories  these ornaments tell that I find the magic of the season.  

That’s happy!

December front porch

Over the Thanksgiving weekend, my neighbors spent the sunny and breezy Saturday setting out their Christmas lights and outdoor decorations.  I saved the task for Sunday, the first day of December.

As decisions go, it was a chilly one.

A cold rain fell all day and when I got my things together in the afternoon it was cold and icy.  Happily, porch decoration is one of my favorite things to do each month and so I wasn’t deterred by the wintery conditions.  The flag welcomes the Winter weather.

The table is cheerful and I am pleased with the fairy Christmas tree, which lights up in the evening.

There is greenery everywhere.

The fresh pine wreath on the front door smells lovely when I come home each afternoon.

Christmas decorations, with greenery and light, always feels magical to me and I enjoy all the traditions of the month. Merry, merry!

December Tradition

I like a generous-sized mug for my morning coffee and evening tea.  My kitchen cabinet is well-stocked with more mugs than I need.  Come December, I shift things around to place the Winter mugs up front.  I’ve a solid collection, especially when you consider that many of these mugs represent just one of a family of two.  

I find these sorts of small traditions to be a cozy treat during the cold months of Winter, especially during the month of December.  Each morning, there will be cheerful cloth by the coffee pot, with a Winter-themed mug at the ready for my first cup.

After a much-needed and happily relaxing Thanksgiving weekend, there are three cold and busy weeks between me and Winter Break.  These are school days that will start in the inky darkness before the sunrise and will most often end as twilight descends.  The days are growing markedly shorter now and in the cold darkness, a warm mug in my hands makes everything nicer.  Happily, I’m all set!

Food Friday: Turkey, Brie, Cranberry Panini

I like Thanksgiving leftovers best when they can be turned into something new.  One of my favorite post-holiday treats are the turkey, brie, and cranberry panini sandwiches we enjoy after the holiday feast.

I mix the the cranberry sauce leftovers with dijon mustard and spread a thin layer on a slice of bread, add thin slices of brie cheese, and minced turkey.  I top it with another slice of bread, butter both sides, and grill it on a low flame so that the brie has time to melt while the bread sears.  The result is delicious enough to become a holiday tradition of its own!

Card Sharks

My people are a competitive lot and nowhere is this more clear than when we play card games.  We are vicious and mean under these circumstances and normal people would be excused for dealing themselves out of the game.  

I consider myself less competitive than the rest of my family but I’ve made up for that in the form of JT.  The boy is so competitive that my mother, the lead genetic carrier of this dominant trait, eventually opts out of games with him, leaving a trail of simmering resentment when she departs the table.  

It’s somewhat interesting that JT is so fierce at the card table because in the world of sports, where competition is officially encouraged, he is genuinely a sportsman.  He cheers on teammates, celebrates their victories (even if they come at his own expense), and truly cares about his teammates.  The kid won an all-conference sportsman award in his first semester of NCAA athletic competition.

It’s clear that the NEWMAC conference has never played cards with the kid.  

Nowhere is JT’s ferocity more unpleasant than in the game of Monopoly Deal.  We bought it years ago in advance of a snow day and from the age of 8 forward, the kid just roasted me at the game.  Over and over, I’d lose to him, millions of dollars in debt, his sinister victory laugh the soundtrack to me shuffling and dealing a new game .  Eventually, I just refused to play that game with him.  

Whenever he plays cards with T and me, he proposes a round or two of Monopoly Deal.  We always say no.  But last night, in the spirit of thankfulness, we said yes.  It’s a different games with three people, more competitive for everyone and with less room for JT to slaughter the competition wholesale.  He won the first two rounds but without the usual wave of destruction.  Then T won a few rounds and both of us had the chance to stick it to the boy.  

It was delayed gratification for the beatdowns of so many years ago.  And in the true spirit of my people, I hope that we play again today.