Christmas Un-decorating

I am always amazed by those who can put up and take down their Christmas decorations with speed and efficiency.

"Oh, I got Christmas put away today," they say glibly.

TODAY??  Meaning one day?  All done in a 24-hour span?  I feel dizzy.

No, that is not me.

The children took down the tree ornaments and railing garland/lights on Tuesday.  They are currently mounded up on the leather sofa, defying anyone to even consider sitting.  Yesterday I got the lights off the various trees and hubby took down the outside wreaths.  And there they sit in comfortable little piles.

Christmas decorating takes on an organic feel for me.  From the moment the boxes get lowered from the attic and the first ornament goes on, I am "deciding how to decorate" throughout the holiday season.  And little vignettes and additions come about on a weekly basis.  By the time Christmas has arrived, the house may, quite possibly, be the way I would like it to look "this Christmas."  Quite possibly.

I guess Christmas un-decorating takes on this same slow, organic feel.  The decorating that distractedly wove itself together in December, rambles again through a slow unraveling in January.

Pine needles make a leisurely exit into the dustpan, ornaments relax themselves into their boxes, and an assortment of woodland animals wait patiently to be wrapped, tucked into bins, and tugged back up the attic stairs.

Christmas un-decorating.  Definitely as much of an undertaking as that of decorating in the first place.

And now I'm off to engage in more of that exercise so that perhaps those with whom I live, who are not as in tune with the concept of the "organic unraveling of Christmas," may be able to feel that they are back in their right minds by this weekend.

Perhaps.

Christmas Party Dash

The yearly Christmas Party Dash occurs each year exactly on the day of my husband's annual Christmas party.

From the time the invitation arrives in the mailbox, the pesky question niggles around in my mind . . . what will I wear to the Christmas party?

An inventory of my closet shows a few skirts that are now outdated, a couple of summer dresses (purchased on Wedding Attendance Dashes), lots of jeans, and shirts that feel at home with jeans and at home within the four walls of my house.  Oh, and there is the black velvet Lanz of Salzburg dress that I wore 25 years ago to a company Christmas party and still can't part with.  Think Lady Diana.  Think '80s.

(Yeah, that one!)

My closet does not show much of anything that is Christmas-party-worthy.

I teach from home and work from home and nurture 6 other lives from home.  Home doesn't demand much in the way of Christmas party attire.

The ante was upped this year by the location of the Christmas party:

The Westin Poinsett . . . crystal chandeliers, valet parking, china and silver.  Skinny jeans stuffed in black leather boots and topped with a heavily cabled cream sweater . . . not appropriate.

Hence the dash.

Upon awaking, I knew I had to do something about said problem . . . by 6:00 pm.  Around lunch time I started to mentally comb through my closet, thinking black, sparkly, or elegant.  At 2:00 pm I flat-ironed my hair, hoping that no matter what I managed to find for the neck down, my hair would "carry" the night.  At 3:00 pm I attended a real estate clothing.  At 4:00 pm I got serious and began the traditional Christmas dash.

T.J. Maxx, one half hour to spend.  Hit the dress rack.  Limited choice options.  Perfect.  Collect six options.  15 minutes left.  Hastily try on all six.  After first five are too short, too tight, too unflattering, too boxy, and  too matronly, breathe a sigh of relief that one works.  Nervously stand in line fidgeting with watch.  Checkout.  Perfect . . . 30 minutes on the dot.

Get home.  Make dinner for kids.  Throw on new dress.  Silently congratulate myself on my pre-flat-ironed hair (a new development for me this year).  Zip up black leather boots.  6:00 . . . ready.

Thank goodness for TJ Maxx, 30 minute shopping trip, and a Calvin Klein dress for $40.

Skin of my teeth.  Another Christmas Party Dash successfully completed.

The Soup of My Dreams - Creamy Turkey Wild Rice

I've been searching for this soup recipe.

I didn't know it, but when I tasted it, I knew then that it was a soup recipe for which I have been longing.

I've tried others that were almost right . . . close to perfect . . . on the brink of delightful.  But this one is, for me, the end of the journey.  The journey to the perfect Turkey Wild Rice Soup.

Savory and fragrant, with the mellowness of wine, a rich touch of bacon, and the nutty chewiness of wild rice.  

Thanksgiving was great.  And using my turkey leftovers to make this soup was the perfect way to end a sweet holiday.

I first read about my dream soup here.  Which then directed me here for the recipe.

Here, then, is the recipe, with a few of my changes noted:

Creamy Turkey & Wild Rice Soup

5 tablespoons butter (1 tablespoon for sauteing, 4 tablespoons for cream sauce)

1/3 cup diced celery (1/4" dice)

1/2 cup diced carrots (1/4" dice)

1 small onion, finely chopped (about 1/2 cup)

4 cups chicken broth (1 32-ounce carton)

1 cup water

3/4 cup wild rice

2 cups diced cooked turkey (about 1 pound) - my family said it needed more turkey

6 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon poultry seasoning - none on my spice shelf---I skipped it

1 1/4 cups half-and-half

2 tablespoons white wine (optional) - put in extra here.  yummmmmm!

3 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled - used turkey bacon . . . made me feel better about the half and half

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper

Make the soup: Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large stockpot over medium-high heat. Add the celery, carrots, and onions, sauteing until softened - about 5 minutes. Stir in the chicken broth, water, wild rice, and turkey. Bring to a boil; then lower the heat, cover, and simmer for about 40 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Make the cream sauce: Meanwhile, melt the remaining 4 tablespoons butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Mix the flour and poultry seasoning together in a small bowl and then add to the butter; cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Stir in the half-and-half and cook until slightly thickened - about 1 minute. Stir the sauce into the soup. Stir in the white wine, bacon, salt, and pepper. Serve.

Successes, Failures, Skills, and Controversy

Time for a few reflections on Thanksgiving 2012.

Most Controversial Thanksgiving Decision - Small and Simple.

Usually we are with the cousins, go out of town, have a family over, etc.  This year, it was just immediate family and my parents.  Still 9 people, but for us small.  And I kept it simple.  This year I did not:

* Brine the turkey
* Comb the woods for fall foliage and make fall arrangements
* Create place cards
* Come up with a new Thanksgiving centerpiece
* Make any recipe with more than 3 steps

I said it was a year for small and simple.  Some of my cherished offspring said it was a year for boring.  I said the one who bakes the turkey makes the decision.  Case closed.

Most Successful New Recipe Attempt - The Pie That Will Make You Cry (Pioneer Woman)

My husband loooooves pecan pie.  And since I have never made one, I have been somehow deceived into thinking they were hard.  Huh?  Enter Pioneer Woman and her new and improved, best in the world Pie That Will Make You Cry.  Wow.  Easy and delicious.  No fail!!  If he asks, however, please tell my husband I slaved, agonized, and walked the thin line of sanity to bring him this triumphant creation.

Most Unsuccessful New Recipe Attempt - Carrots Grand Marnier

Aaargh!  I have looked at these in a favorite cookbook for years and was convinced that this would be the crowning glory of my Thanksgiving table . . . Carrots Grand Marnier.  Actually they were chewy, sticky, and slightly dehydrated . . . looking more like I had made them over a campfire on the Appalachian Trail than a crowning glory to my Thanksgiving table!!  My parents and my husband both took generous spoonfuls because they are over 40 and have been well trained that when there's a new recipe on the table, you better take some and put a smile on your face while chewing.  My aforesaid cherished offspring passed them quickly to the next pair of hands looking as though they were momentarily distracted by a passing cat out the front window and it somehow slipped their minds that a bowl of carrots was in front of them.  My cherished offspring are, obviously, under 40 and have apparently not been well trained about new dishes, taking, smiling, and chewing.

Most Unusual Thanksgiving-Related Activity - Hand Turkeys

Several days before Thanksgiving found two 18 year-old seniors in high school at the kitchen table, inexplicably making "hand turkeys."  They said it was to earn extra credit in senior English.  I once again wondered about the use of my tax dollars.

Youngest Daughter was delighted to have some company on an art project.  And she went on to create hand turkeys for each member of the household . . . which is what being 9 on a holiday is all about!!


Best Newly-Acquired Skill - Peeling!!

This Thanksgiving, Youngest Daughter learned that nine year-olds can peel fruits and vegetables and not remove a layer of skin.  She did a marvelous job, and I congratulated myself on introducing another helper into my kitchen.  Next year we'll tackle the art of the roux . . . or maybe the flambe'.

Thanksgiving 2012 - Like most Thanksgivings, this year was made up of recipe failures, recipe successes, new skills acquired, old skills polished up, decisions that made some delighted and others frustrated, lots of good food and time spent together.  The yin and yang of life and living together that make up family and remind us of all the reasons to be . . .

Thankful!

Learning Flexibility

There's something to be said about large families and flexibility.  I'm going to believe that learning flexibility in a large family is a good thing so I don't completely go over the edge in guilt over my failure to keep my good intentions.

Case in point was the Valentine's Day baking with Youngest Daughter.  Here is the timeline:

February 13th - I promise to make Valentine's sugar cookies with Youngest Daughter.  We make the dough, chill the dough, and then she trots off to bed with the promise of baking them tomorrow.

February 14th - After dinner, cookies are cut and baked.  While cookies are baking, I run to the upstairs to handle a crisis, missing the beeping of the timer.  Cookies are remembered about the time they are the color of weathered wood.  Youngest Daughter trots off to bed with the promise of trying again tomorrow.

February 15th - Youngest Daughter once again anticipates the baking of the Valentine's cookies.  The calendar now says we are one day past Valentine's day.  After dinner, Older Brother #1 remembers he needs Mom to take him to the store for an item that must be purchased before the next morning's class.  Youngest Daughter trudges off to bed with the promise of trying again tomorrow.

February 16th - Cookie baking is once again anticipated after dinner, at which time Older Brother #2 has an algebraic meltdown, swears he cannot remember one thing for the test tomorrow, and requires mom's attention for 2 hours of angst-filled studying.  Youngest Daughter rolls her eyes as she is promised that we will try again tomorrow.

February 17th - The dough is finally made for the second time and chilling in anticipation of baking.  After dinner, Mom must leave for football registration.  Youngest Daughter begins to make plans for the baking of cookies in the year 2013.

February 18th - The happy day of baking finally arrives.  The calendar now says that we are 4 days past Valentine's Day.  Youngest Daughter does not care.  The day involves a friend, gooey pink frosting, 12 different types of sprinkles and pale, creamy cookies glittered, goo-ed, and glopped within an inch of their lives.  Youngest Daughter slips off to bed knowing that some things in life are, indeed, worth waiting for.

Either that, or she is planning her first appointment with her therapist.

Some Bunny Loves You!

Sunday afternoon . . . after we're home from church . . . and lunch is finished . . . and the dishes are done.  My time to crash.  All I want is my bed, the couch, a patch of sunlight on the area rug.  Anything.  Just let me be found prone, eyes closed, letting the week drain out of me before the new one fills me up.

Unfortunately, this is exactly when the children remember that all the homework they thought was done and promised was done on Friday wasn't quite done at all.

So, as I lay in my semi-comatose state, body and brain begging for a little peace and quiet, the household (eschewing the day of rest concept!) becomes agitated and restless, cramming too much work into too little time.


"Mom, what exactly is the scientific name for a white blood cell?"


"Mom, my basketball uniform, compression shorts, 3 pairs of socks, and favorite underwear are washed, dried, folded and ready for my gym bag, right?"


"Mom, can you proof my 3-page essay on the history of highlighters?"

"Mom, I don't know how to compare a Japanese home of the early 1900s to an American home of today."

And then there's the most dreaded announcement of all . . . the project that someone forgot until Sunday afternoon.

This particular Sunday (the day before V-tine's Day), the project was announced in a quiet voice in my groggy ear,

"Mommy, I have to make 20 Valentine's for my class in the morning."

Aaaaargh!!  Of course.  Tomorrow is Valentine's Day!  How could I have forgotten?!

Goodbye small patch of sunlight on the area rug.  Thank goodness for Family Fun magazine.

In no time at all we had some paper cut, some paint in a saucer, and little fingers were making "bunnies" out of finger prints.

The ears were large and lop-sided.  The heads a little less symmetrical than the self-conscious bunny would desire. 

But they were cute nonetheless.

And when a sweet sentiment was added to the front along with the requisite lollipop and a name signed on the inside in quivery, loopy letters . . .

The outcome was really quite sweet, indeed.

::sigh::  I'll try again for that nap next Sunday.

Not A Good Way To Start The Year

No one should have to start the New Year mad!

Even less should one have to start the year mad at their dog . . . you know man's best friend and all that stuff.

But that is exactly what happened in this household.  The details are a little sketchy.  After all, the dogs still aren't talking about it much.  But this is what fell out, the best I can deduce.

White Dog and Brown Dog were left home alone on New Year's Eve.  This made Brown Dog decidedly grumpy and started off the evening on a bad note.  To make matters worse, fireworks began to go off in the neighborhood and Brown Dog found himself nervous, disturbed, and feeling very, very alone.

 

About this time, Brown Dog spied something he had not yet noticed in all the holiday festivities.  Down under the Christmas tree was a large, soft, white flannel sheet, used as a tree skirt.  It looked very, very comforting . . . for a dog who is nervous, disturbed and feeling very, very alone.

Brown Dog began eyeing the sheet.  White Dog smelled trouble and warned Brown Dog to mind his own business, be content with his cast-off quilt, stick his paw pads in his ears, and be a good dog, which of course only encouraged Brown Dog all the more to have . . . that . . . soft . . . sheet.The fact that Brown Dog was on his leash, which was attached to a pillar two feet from the tree mattered to him not in the least.  In fact, it served only to heighten the challenge of having . . . that . . . soft . . . sheet.

And, so he pulled, he tugged, he threw his body at the tree, he twisted, he jumped.  And by gum he got that sheet.

White Dog, meanwhile hid his head under his own well-worn, cast-off comforter, put his paw pads in his ears, hummed loudly and said, "I don't see what you're doing.  I can't see a thing.  I know nothing that's going on."

That is how it came to be that as the 7 of us walked in to the house, bleary-eyed, in the wee hours of New Year's morning, we found the tree, rotated 90 degrees, bottom 2 rows of expensive artificial tree foliage bent to the ground, a veritable shower of artificial tree "needles" on the floor, ornaments scattered about . . .

. . . and a very sentimental, hand-crafted, 25 year-old ornament smashed on the floor. 

Have I mentioned that no one should have to start out the New Year mad?

After a cup of tea, my emotions were back in check, I had decided that Brown Dog could live in safety for another year, and I was beginning to believe that 2011 might actually turn out to be quite a satisfactory year.

It was at this point that Youngest Son approached me tentatively, eyes wide, gesturing in the general direction of the dining room table, mouth moving but no syllables coming out.

Yes.  Vintage glass ornament.  Part of a set from the 1930s.  Handled with care by my German grandmother for years and then passed down to me.  Smashed.

Children don't understand these things.  It's round.  It must therefore be a ball.

If things don't turn around quickly here, I'll be the one in bed, covers over my head, waiting for 2012.

Have I mentioned that no one should have to start out the year mad?

Time for more tea.

If You Were My Neighbor

If you were my neighbor, I'd trot up the mountain to an enchanting little bakery, Flat Rock Village Bakery to be exact, where the baker magically combines organic flours, fresh ingredients, and local produce to create scrumptious artisanal breads . . . sourdoughs, baguettes, scones, bagels.

Then I'd look at the day's offerings and think and ponder and ponder and think exactly what you'd like the best.

And I'd finally decide on Three-Cheese-Garlic-Basil because I can smell the basil wafting out of the brick oven. And I know that it's havarti, cheddar, and provolone today . . . melty and delicious inside.

Back home I'd come and wrap up the bread, all steamy and crusty and encircle it with raffia. And then I'd attach a little tag that says "JOY" on it. Because that's what I'm wishing for you on this Christmas Day.

And even the snow falling outside wouldn't keep me from running next door to bring you your gift.  And to wish you a sweet Christmas. 

And to wish you joy.

His joy.

For anyone who seeks it.

The best gift.

I know.

I've found it.

Merry, merry Christmas!!

Christmas Color / Christmas Magic

There must be some  . . .

(Middle Son's Airsoft pellets)

Christmas magic in the house.

(Youngest Daughter's crayons)

Because everywhere I look . . .

(Boys' Shirts)

I'm finding Christmas color . . .

(Tins of tea)

. . . in the most unusual places!

 (Last night's salad)

Enjoy your day, sweet friends!

A Sweet, Simple V-Tines Day

I've been inspired by the different buntings on blogs and decided to brighten up our eat-in area of the kitchen with some multi-colored heart bunting. So, after assembling tools

I spent several hours on the floor of the TV room happily punching away on shades of purple, pink, red, and orange paper, hot gluing, stringing and watching several episodes of "Real Simple/Real Life."

I was happy with how it turned out---whimsical, airy and cheerful.

Other Valentine's sightings in the house on this February 14th:

Hand-Made Valentine From Youngest Daughter

Piles of Hearts on Battenburg Lace

My Valentine's Card to the Man of the House

Youngest Daughter and Her Baby, Annie, looking like Valentines themselves.

Dinner Table all set for a Valentine's Day supper. The dessert looks good, but it was a big disappointment. It flat-out lied and called itself a cheesecake, but the gelatin and whipped cottage cheese added to the cream cheese made it more of a mousse than a cheesecake. (Yes, I could have looked at the ingredients before making it but why ruin the suspense!) The family was a little lukewarm about the results, but as Oldest Daughter said, "Hey, there are so few desserts that come to this table, I'll take what I can get."