Christmas Memory #4? Tchickoffee

So remember that toffee I made?  Well, I had it on the table on the back porch, because it's cold outside, and out there I have room to store the pans and pans of it that I made.  Sam was worried it would get wrecked or snowed on or something, so I brought it all in (I made LOTS) and put it in the only place that I had room for it.

The oven.

You know where this is going.

Turns out, that even if you melt it a little - like say, long enough to preheat your oven to 375ºF - you can cool it (on the back porch where you should have left in the first place, like you do every year) and it turns into toffee again!   WAHOO! Except, if you are not regular about cleaning your oven (which I am so not)  it will also taste like the last thing/s you baked in there.

Which, for me, was chicken and rice. 

Mmmm, a two course meal in one bite. 
Reminds me of...

 [Love this drawing by El Lohse.  Her artwork can be purchased at her Etsy Shop: Elloh]

Ugh.  Sorry neighbors and friends.  No Christmas or New Year's toffee this year...lame, lame LAME!!!!!!!!!!!  I still have cards that say "Merry Christmas" on them.  You'll be getting them, eventually.  I'm not storing those in the oven.

 

I LOATHE throwing away food...all those precious ingredients.  All that time...wasted because of absentmindedness.  Do I just subconsciously love doing everything in my life twice?  Seriously.

When will I learn?
WHEN!

Christmas 2009 Memory #3 : Warning--This Post is Vomitrocious.

 

Sugarplums danced in their beds.

And all over our "hallway".

And all over Grammy's entry way rug.

And all over Jackie.  Twice.

Christmas morning came. We opened our gifts.  A perfect Christmas morning spent basking in our treasures, enjoying each other and the lovely quiet morning.   Our kitchen table looked like a messy, giant mound of random baked goods and candies intermixed with unwrapped cellophane and ribbons and crumbs.  It is from this heap we had our morning feast.  I remember sitting at the table, sifting through and picking out my favorite things (pretzel nut clusters, homemade caramels and cookies) and looking across the table at my darling curly headed Eddie as he took a giant bite from his giant king size Snicker's bar- a stocking treat, and his favorite.  It occurred to me at that moment, that perhaps I should fix something more wholesome for my family to eat.  I said to Eddie, "Would you like me to fix you some oatmeal, or eggs and toast or a smoothie?"  "Nah, this is good" he says and takes another bite.

Stop.

I know better (and not because of the clarity of hindsight).  I knew better then.  I even thought about it as I watched Eddie eat his king sized breakfast of empty calories.  About how the strength of my children's immune systems are affected by their diets. 

 But hey, there was tons of "food" lying around and I didn't feel like making another mess.  What's that saying about "the price you pay now is the cheapest price in town"?  or that one that says,  "Listen to that voice and take care, because if you don't you may be covered in someone else's vomit at 3am tomorrow morning".

Yeah, that's a good one to remember.  Days of junk food and late nights led to a Christmas night puke-fest.  Jack, though never actually being sick, had a miserable night as well.  It's a funny story, but he caught me writing about it and made me swear I wouldn't post it (yet). 

The Sowman's Christmas Present by Irma Wilde, 1951

We eventually slept soundly.

And all the little dears have recovered pretty well.

Time for some real food and a good sleep schedule.

Christmas 2009 Memory #2: Christmas Magic

I learned this year-
When you don't have it together,
You can still have Christmas.

Christmas Eve morning I stood in my messy, messy (I mean, messy) kitchen.  Dishes overflowed the sink and onto the sticky crumb-filled counter tops.  Garbage and neighborhood holiday gift carnage strewn everywhere.  Heaps of laundry sat in piles downstairs.  We were out of towels and pants and I had not one clean washcloth with which to wipe my dirty counter tops.  I was overwhelmed by the hustle of the season.  And my house seemed to be past the point of restoring order.  I couldn't keep up.

As I stood in the kitchen, looking at the fruits of my disorganized and distracted (let's just say it) lazy nature - I had a decision to make.  Will I make toffee before Christmas?  I really tried to prepare for Christmas, but I only got half of my Christmas cards out and I just couldn't get my act together when it came to our yearly tradition of toffee and braetzlis. 
Dishes first.  I need to at least see the counter tops before making a decision.
I strapped my ipod to my arm and turned on the hot water.  I  began singing loudly with the music (not Christmas music, I wasn't in the mood) only to press pause periodically when my kids wanted to speak with me.

My family is often plagued by the sound of me singing along with my ipod.  Being able to hear oneself is an important aspect of singing well.  Also, it's nice to have an accompaniment.  As the one wearing the ear buds, I am oblivious to the negative effects that occur when these two elements are removed.  My family is generally very patient and long suffering in regards to my loud habit.  On this morning however, when I paused to speak to one of the kids, I noticed that Sam speedily took advantage of the moment and plugged in some Christmas music before I could start up again.  I took the subtle hint and turned off my ipod.

The  kitchen counters began to emerge. Once the pots were clean I felt like I could make some candy.

And that fast it felt like Christmas.  Even though my house was a disaster,  Even though I knew I wouldn't have time to deliver this toffee before Christmas.  I was working in the kitchen and my family was all around and I felt happy.

Eddie and Jack were at the table, drawing.  Ada had spent the last few days working on a story.  It's about a girl named Ann who will prove to her father that she can be a warrior, even though she is a girl.  I stirred the boiling candy and Ada stood beside me reading about Ann bravely facing the black knight and cleverly getting past the moles and into the thick forest using her clever sense of humor.  Ada's big eyes expressed focused vibrancy as she used different voices for each character, or looked up at me to make sure I got the funny parts. Occasionally, she would pause to explain the specific details that will go into the movie once her story is bought.  Every few minutes, she would be interrupted by one of her brothers who came in to show me their new creations of fierce, scaly eyes for the dragons they were drawing.  Dragons that blew ice crystals instead of fire.

And in the background I heard sweet sounds of Hallelujah and praise for the One who makes up the difference.  It was at this moment when I realized, It is a joyous Noël, because I fall short.

Hallelujah!
He is born.
I am warm in my messy house.
I am filled with His love and compassion as I look upon my own.
I am supported by a dear friend and companion who refuses to give up on me.
I am determined to be better.

Christmas Magic.

Christmas 2009 Memory #1: "Marmee..."

I was newly married when I first read Little Women.  I loved it.  A story of women being and doing good, exemplifying loyalty, strength, devotion, charity and fostering relationships.  The girls were influenced by a strong and kind mother whom they referred to as Marmee.

After finishing that book, I began occasionally calling my mother "Marmee".  Why?  Because, like Margeret March, she is an exceptional lady.  She really tries to be kind and good.  And she actively raised her children to adopt those philosophies.  Even in hard days,  as a young mom working full time and doing internships for school and really trying to make ends meet, she taught us the importance of giving.  She taught us (mostly by example) that no material possession is worth clinging to, but should be given freely to one who is in need.  And further, not to judge, but to give because it is our responsibility to be giving.  She taught us that everyone deserves love and a listening ear, and a break.

During the holidays especially, she tried to provide opportunities for her children to give and serve.

*We went to homeless shelters and churches and served soup.
*I remember when I was about 10 or so, we hid in a back room as Santa's elves ready to pick out gifts from the Christmas bags for homeless kids. 
*I remember going to someone's home while they were away (an outing arranged by my mother) and cleaning their house  and other secret services depending on her friends' needs.

She really wanted us to see what we have.  It was more than that, though - She taught us (and teaches us), that it is not about us having and others not having.  There is no need for self-righteous acclamation upon our offerings of service.  We are all in need.  This is why we must give.  It is in the giving that we really understand who we are and why we are here.




Jesus, when giving His sermon on the Mount said;

"But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth."

-Matthew 6:3

My Marmee.

-My boys and my Marmee, Thanksgiving Day 2009-

Once I was at a family gathering.  My mother (who was not present) came up in the conversation.  Story after story began emerging of quiet acts of kindness and help she gave.  We were all surprised to hear that each of us had been helped and quietly cared for.  She doesn't think about it or mention it or act like it's a sacrifice.  And I know there are times when nobody knows.

To her siblings, she is known as the truly compassionate one.  It's because she is not afraid to seek out those who are left alone in the dark trenches socially, mentally, physically, spiritually.  She doesn't shirk from trying to revive and to help them.  To love them.

And it's not only during Christmastime.  My dear Marmee is like that all the time.

I guess this isn't exactly a 2009 memory.  But this season I felt a keener sense of gratitude for her example.  It is one I am determined to better live up to.


I'm very, very lucky she is my Marmee.

"Oh, You're Absolutely Fine"

OKAY.  Time to post SOMETHING.  I've left that cheesy poem (that I can't believe I posted) on the top of this page for too long.

Here is a video my friend Leah introduced me to, late in the evening while Sam was out of town last week.   Trust me, you will LOVE it.  The dancing, oh, the dancing... Don't take your eyes off the screen for one second or you will miss something good.

P.S.  Ignore the Youtuber's video title.  I believe it is, in fact, the BEST music video.  Ever.


Please enjoy:

Here

 
This is What I See When I Come Down Here:

A boy in the mountains

You held gold in your hand
You dipped that staff of life to the waters and carefully brought it out.

All alone (just the way you like it)
Hidden within rocks and trees.

I waited for you here
At the place you call home -

Even though it is in those mountains you know,
Where you found secret treasures and
Yourself –
Unescorted,
Uncensored,
Free.

But you call this place (here) home
Because it is where I wait.

Even though you hunger for solitude
And endless tree lined skies
And furtive fish beneath some undisturbed puddle,
Somewhere, away

You captured that day of solitary joy
Exposed that secret place
Cellulose branded, you carried a glimpse of that shiny, breathing treasure
You drew out from below the silent ground where you stood

And then
You brought it home (here).
With wild, happy eyes, green as the pine with sunshine streaming through
You shared it with me.

You’ve been doing this since we met

I am so grateful.
My boy of the mountains
Come down, Come to me, Here

I will be waiting

Grateful for You

 Sharing Laughter by Barbara Lavallee - find more of her artwork HERE

I would love 
To hear you laugh again.
But this time, 
I would like to hear it while my head lays pressed
Against your chest.
So that I can feel the rumbling beginnings 
Of that deep and happy sound
(that I am so fond of)
Before it breaks free from you
And brightens the room.


I would be happy enough
To hear that jovial bellowing
From behind me,
Across the room
(in the usual way)
Yes - that would be enough. 


More than enough.

50 Words or Less (Desert Initiation)

Junipers underscore morning twilight.  Alone I watch the changing sky (layers of black clay, sandstone, slate).  I begin to stretch, but stop - startled by the absence of sound.  I almost feel it is too much to bear when the owl speaks - reassuring my displaced eardrums. 

I have friends here.

Flickr Photo source can be found here

50 Words or Less (Morning Commute)

Fluorescent-Man waves to her every morning.  I guess it’s mostly to keep the drivers alert.  Today a truck driver gets stuck turning the corner and she’s already late.  Just when she’s about to honk her horn, Fluorescent-Man peeks around the truck. He gives her the "rock-on" sign with both hands.

Today

Was a
BIG.

FAT.


JOKE.

Actually, it didn't start out that way, but when it ends that way it just seems to carry the whole day, doesn't it -    ay?