Dear Quarantine Diary – Week 49

Tags

covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, holiday, humour

Dear Diary – I was comfortably settled on the couch Friday morning, happy that I didn’t have to go anywhere, when I heard my cell phone ringing. Upstairs! I thought my phone was in my purse. I didn’t hustle because I figured it was just a telemarketer. But it wasn’t. It was the grocery store about my order…which I was supposed to be picking up in the next 2 minutes. I had ordered groceries online the day before, but I thought I had reserved a 9 a.m. slot for Monday because I was heading to my folks on Monday and I thought I should feed my family.

As I pulled on my sneakers, listening to my voicemail, I also noticed I had 5 text messages, including one from a friend looking for a ride home from the hospital! I got my groceries; she still hasn’t gotten out. As the shadows of the day grew, so did her list of things I needed to bring her. The bigger problem was the only person with a key to her apartment wouldn’t be back in town until after 8.

By the time 8 arrived, I was exhausted. It was dark, cold, and drizzling outside (as well as inside my heart) when I walked into her building. I almost didn’t make. One of the senior residents who felt he deserved the entire empty parking lot to circle his wagon before pulling into his parking space, nearly ran me over. I was okay with visiting my friend, but I didn’t relish being her roommate!

Hospital parking is never straightforward nor the rates low. There were no covid checklists to tick off or hoops to jump through, even though I started an overflowing Emergency Room. After delivering my friend’s bag, pillow and hot coffee, I trudged behind the porter taking her to her room, on the far side of the building.

It was almost 10 before I headed out into the drizzle again. The ticket machine refused to take my ticket, instead sticking it back at me like it was sticking out its tongue. I stuck my tongue back at it. Then I maneuvered my car to try the other exit, and after several attempts (and a few punctuated threats), my ticket was accepted and I was permitted to escape leave.

However, the exit didn’t allow a left turn, forcing me to drive west, away from home. I pulled into the first street 2 blocks away, and began a tiring suburban drive in a warren of streets that serpentined endlessly. I was beginning to despair that I would be crawling under the covers after sunrise when I passed a park and finally knew where I was!

By the time I escaped got home, I wanted a drink…of cranberry gingerale. I vowed that I would not leave the house on Saturday.

It was a naïve statement and certainly not meant to be. My friend had another wish list, but this time, I didn’t drive. I asked Hubby to drop me off and spare me another neighbourhood tour. 😉

Dear Diary – Recent stats said my post was shared to 441 email subscribers and 161 social followers. If this is happening, why do I only get, on average, one comment a week? 🙂

Dear Diary – Someone reminded me that I have a beautiful life. And they’re right.

This week the father of Eldest Son’s best friend, S. passed away after a short battle with cancer. He lived longer than expected which meant they had one more Easter, one more Thanksgiving, and many more beautiful days. I’m sure they weren’t all weren’t easy. Eldest Son, L. and S. have been like a family since high school, and together these 2 girls have been caring for Dad while Mom is at work. L. lost her father just over a year ago. I admire these brave young women who have already known such deep sorrow and they are on my heart.

The path I’ve taken may not have been the one I dreamed about when I played with Barbie (I still haven’t walked a Red Carpet). Sure, instead of a castle, I live in a semi-detached house. Prince Charming is an engineer who doesn’t ride a white horse. I am blessed with princes instead of princesses (which is probably a good thing!) I have woken up on Christmas morning under my parents’ roof for almost 50 years (with the exception of 2020 when we celebrated in a service center parking lot), and I will celebrate with them this year too. At my house. But all of these things, and so much more, have given me a life filled with love and laughter (a lot of it with me and at me), and that is what makes it so beautiful.

I sustain myself with the love of my family.

Maya Angelou

Dear Diary – The last two days have been crazy. I headed to my folks where I baked a crunchy mess cookies, stole borrowed a Christmas tree from church, and saved a life. I’m glad I had my best friends and partners in crime along for the ride!

I arrived Monday afternoon to an empty house. The guy installing my parents’ new carpet got sick and the work’s been postponed, so everything in the living room and hall had shuffled. Except 3 chairs lined up in front of the t.v. Papa Bear’s chair is in the middle. The couch and dining table shared space in the dining half of the kitcehn; the table covered in Mom’s good china from the china cabinet. The sideboard and the t.v. stand are in my bedroom, but I was left a crooked maze almost as wide as me to get to the bed.

And a flashlight.

I lost the flashlight by the second night.

That evening I attended a birthday party with my Mom for a lovely lady I have never met. I was promised cake.

If I lived closer, I think we’d become good friends

On Tuesday, Mom and I muttered in our separate corners of the kitchen while we baked our own cookies. The couch made an excellent surface for spreading out baking utensils and cookie cutters, and when you got tired, it was a soft place to rest. My sugar cookies kept flaking as I rolled them out and they baked crunchy. It wasn’t until the middle of the night that I realized I had forgotten the milk.

As we worked, Mom suddenly gasped and covered her hand with her mouth: “There’s a squirrel drowning in the pool”.

Normally, this would be a “Dad” job, but Dad wasn’t home, so I sprang into action.

In advance of the new carpet going down, Dad had been pulling up the old carpet and adding screws to the floor to fix the squeaks. There was an assortment of tools in the living room. I was hoping for a bucket, but with none in sight, I grabbed the white plastic bowl on the couch and crawled over the back because the couch was blocking the patio door. I ran to the gate, shoved the bbq out of the way like a football player, and scrabbled with the sticky lock. I couldn’t see any movement in the water, not even ripples on the surface.

I grabbed the ladder from the side fence and shoved it into the black and murky water, praying it wasn’t too late. Finally, a little black squirrel popped up, but on the far side of the pool. It was obvious he was exhausted and we didn’t have much time. I ran up the stairs and across the deck, with the bowl still in my hand. I also grabbed a step stool off the porch and hopped down the stairs.

There had been no time for super hero capes or shoes. My feet were soaking wet by the time I got to the pool. “Where is he?” I called to Mom watching from above. I dropped the stool and climbed up. He was just coming up for air and when I reached the bowl out to him and he turned to me, and we locked eyes. “Come here sweetie”, I crooned as I reached in to scooped him up and he paddled furiously to get to safety. He was still panicking when I went to set the bowl on the ground and he sloshed out. Unhurt but still terrified, he started to crawl under the deck into a pile of baskets and boxes. Mom threw down a dry towel and I did my best to wrap it around him, but I couldn’t pick him up. I talked to him gently. Once I knew he was safe, I stepped away so he could calm down. He didn’t know I wasn’t going to hurt him.

I returned a few minutes later to see how he was, and I tucked the towel around his little body again. He purred and closed his eyes to sleep. I had saved a life and my heart was overflowing.

Sadly, when I went back later, he had died in his sleep, and it was crushed again. At least I can take some comfort in knowing he died peacefully, warm, cozy and cared for. Every life matters.

On Wednesday morning, we went shopping in some local shops. It felt good to support small businesses. I know how much love and attention to detail I put into each of my creations for my Etsy shop. I could certainly see that love in the candles, soaps, pickles and jams I admired. And the smells were divine.

After lunch, I went with Mom to her church to steal borrow a Christmas tree for their Christmas party. Strangely, Operation Christmas Tree went smoothly.

With my Christmas shopping nearly complete, I turned my attention to cookies again. This time I added the milk. This time, they worked. All they need now is some sparkle and buttons.

Last night, like the 3 bears, we shared a bag of chips and watched a James Bond movie in our 3 little chairs. Except I was in Mama’s leather chair because I could have both laptops plugged in and lying at my feet. I’ve started the incredibly boring task of transferring files to my new laptop. We sampled some saskatoon berry jam on Dad’s homemade raisin ‘n spice sourdough muffins before toddling off to bed.

Once again, dear diary, I am left alone in the house, with my assortment of belongings waiting to be packed. My parental units are go-go seniors, and it’s time for me to go-go too. With the Arrogant Worms. While this Santa song may not be the most “appropriate”, it’s a great song for singing at the top of your lungs.

Because the greatest part of a road trip isn’t arriving at your destination. It’s all the wild stuff that happens on the way.

familyoffduty.com

Home

Tags

#whatsinmycup, Christmas, family, food, holiday, humour, tea, tea addict, tea lover, tea time

December has arrived and with it, a whirlwind of activity. This morning I headed out the door for a power-packed couple of days of shopping, baking, gabbing and tea drinking with my Mom (& Dad, but he’s a coca-cola fan)! What’s in my cup? Pumpkin Chai – because I need both caffeine and spice! Whatever your plans this week, I hope you’ll make some space to spend some time with your favourite people! Cheers!

Home is a comfort and home is a light
A place to leave the darkness outside
Home is a peaceful and ever full feeling
A place where the soul safely hides

Michael Card, Home

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week 34

Tags

family, food, holiday, humour, summer, sunsets

Dear Diary-This week I watched a short (& hilarious) YouTube video on hummingbirds. The most ridiculous thing was their mating ritual. Males will fly high over the female and perform a series of courtship dives. But as they swoop over the female, special feathers on their tail flutter, creating a unique sound that sounds like…a fart! Romantic “butt” farts? Apparently! But before any guys reading this cheer in celebration, let me be clear on behalf of your mates. It’s only romantic to hummingbirds. We may turn it into a joke or laugh (because when it comes to bathroom jokes and body noises, we are all still 11 inside), but in no way does it make it “randy baby”.

Dear Diary – I was looking forward to it, but once again, my angry ankle made me doubt my ability to withstand the walking tour…in 30C heat. So Eldest Son and my father went to see the WWII former bombing and gunnery school without out me. This base trained approximately 131,553 aircrew, including pilots, wireless operators, air gunners, and navigators for the Air Forces of Great Britain, Australia, New Zealand and Canada. It was decommissioned in 1969 and essentially abandoned for years. But it’s in the process of being restored, it’s stories being shared, and I think it’s a piece of history worth saving. Dad works part-time at a flying club, whose hangar and buildings was also used to train during the wars. It’s so cool to wander inside where evidence still exists of an era gone by, and see photos of this once bustling destination.

I told them they had to take photos…I really liked these ones of the barracks.

While the boys were out (and Youngest was still sleeping, his favourite activity these days), Mom and I went shopping. We bought important things, like butter tarts and a bathing suit for Eldest Son.

Though the label said the suit was large, it was a youth’s large. He couldn’t get it past his knees.

After the butter tarts, we all needed a large.

Dear Diary – A Pluviophile is a lover of rain, one who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days. And there are days when I certainly enjoy being “stuck inside” or sitting on my back porch listening to it.

Not so much when you’re on vacation, and Eldest Son was with us for only a few days. Eldest Son, Youngest Son and I descended on my folks last week. We brought food, games, and our childlike wonder (or childish antics – read that how you will). As a Mama, I’m happiest when I have my kids with me.

We’ve played Ticket to Ride, Slay, and Carcassone, and we’re all still talking to each other.

There have been a few trips to dollerama. We read our books, snoozed, snacked, and started the new series, House of Dragons. One night we sat by the fire table until the mosquitoes found us.

Youngest mostly slept. I think he’s trying to ignore the start of school, which he will have to attend in person if he is to get the credits he needs to apply for university next Spring.

One afternoon, it had rained so hard that the planter box I gave Mom for her birthday was overflowing! It was wet outside! It was wet inside too. Eldest Son brought his camp stove in to clean it at the kitchen sink. He didn’t realize that after several hours, it wasn’t fully drained and poured water all over on floor. Mom just laughed…she had cleaned the floor the day before. Eldest Son used the mop to dry feet, so he could rescue his burning eggs.

He’s inherited my “bad luck”.

The boys entertained us as we listened to them making dinner: spaghetti!

Eldest Son started making waffles too…somehow I ended up cooking them…

We also celebrated Mom’s belated birthday (with Auntie M before she went on her own big holiday) with my homemade lemon chiffon cake:

Would Paul Hollywood approve? Who cares! It was delicious!

Even the hummingbird got sick of the rain. We sneaked out between thundering rain (and sometimes thunder) for a swim one afternoon, much to the distress of a female cardinal. We thought she was searching for her missing teen. Eldest Son discovered later that she actually had a nest in the wild rose bush right beside the pool, and we were disturbing her.

She had no idea just how disturbed she’d be the next day.

It was sunny on our final full day together and we had big plans…or rather, the guys had big plans…to topple a tree. My job was simply to record it. And maybe pick up sticks.

This rotten pine tree has been a favourite of the neighbourhood flocks, particularly the woodpecker! The trunk was studded with more holes than brown pine needles, and it desperately needed to come down before it came down on it’s own volition. Eldest Son had to remove every branch with his handsaw before tying a rope to the top. Once expertly notched at the base, Dad gently pulled the tree. It slowly leaned, crackling and snapping, and pausing halfway down for dramatic effect, before the final anti-climatic thud.

Traditionally, we have celebrated the end of summer with a DQ Blizzard, so we surprised my parents with them in the afternoon.

Before dinner, the boys and I tackled Eldest Son’s car. Youngest Son couldn’t help commenting on the amount of hair (and fries) in the car. I reminded him that when you look like Chewbacca, there’s bound to be a lot of hair. While he stood on his head to retrieve food wrappers and coffee cups under the seats, I emptied and washed the console. Did you know that coffee + heat+ sawdust creates a thin”coffee” gelee disk? Yummy! I washed the gummy change too.

By evening, we were hot and tired. Eldest Son and I hopped in the pool and washed the sky fade from pink to mauve. All the birds ceased their evening chatter, except Mama cardinal who was highly offended by our presence, and simply enjoyed this moment of peace.

But the party is over! While Youngest Son and I will stay on, Eldest Son is packed and heading home. He has 5 loads of clean laundry, a clean cook stove, a clean car, and a clean body (we cleaned the pool cover this morning. It no longer smells!). We’ll miss him, of course, but will focus instead on being thankful that we have one another.

Here’s to the twilight, here’s to the memories
These are my souvenirs, my mental pictures of everything
Here’s to the late nights, here’s to the firelight
These are my souvenirs

Switchfoot, Souvenirs

Tea With a Twist

Tags

family, food, holiday, humour, iced tea, summer, tea, tea addict, tea lover, tea time

Last Summer, Eldest Son and I sampled a couple types of hard iced teas during our week-long vacay at my folks, for research purposes. Hey – I can’t write about it if I haven’t tried it! Obviously a “hardened” tea isn’t for everyone, and lots of people have their reasons for abstaining. It’s certainly not something I imbibe on a regular basis, but it warranted a taste nonetheless.

We started with the most popular: Twisted Tea.

Twisted tea is a non-carbonated hard iced malt tea beverage made with black tea. It also contains sugar cane or honey, real lemon, ice and alcohol: beer and vodka. After it’s Original debut, the company came out with a number of other flavours: peach, blackberry, blueberry and mango. They also make a light version which has lower alcohol content, and half and half, which is half twisted tea and half lemonade.

In addition to the addition of alcohol, there’s another twist. Hard iced tea was first manufactured by mega-brand The Boston Beer Company in 2001…in Cinncinati, Ohio. It’s imported to Canada. It is 5% alcohol and 30mg of caffeine, so it provides a bit of a kick. I also found it quite sweet.

Don’t worry – I shared the can with Eldest Son and no Upwords tiles were harmed in the making of this blog post (but apparently I spelled “I Dig Tea” wrong)!

Hey Y’All is a “southern style” hard iced tea, brewed with selected black tea and lightly sweetened with pure cane sugar. It’s manufactured by the Hey Y’All Southern Tea Company in Vancouver, British Columbia, so it’s only available in Canada…and Bermuda! Vodka is the alcohol of choice! Other flavours include: raspberry, mango, Kentucky blueberry, Florida citrus, Georgia Peach, Mai Tai, Half and Half, and Southern Style.

They claim it has an “authentic old-fashioned ice tea flavour without the heavy sweetness. Well balanced and flavourful with a smooth finish”. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Between the two, I actually preferred Hey Y’All because it had a stronger tea flavour and wasn’t as sweet.

Both companies recommend not keeping it in the fridge because temperature can affect the taste of tea over time. Rather, store it in a cool, dark place and serve it in a glass with fresh, crisp ice cubes.

They didn’t say anything about serving it this way! Stay cool and have a Happy Monday!!

Mama said there’ll be days like this,
There’ll be days like this mama said.

The Shirelles, Mama Said

Brunch

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#whatsinmycup, family, food, holiday, humour, tea, tea addict, tea lover, tea time

Brunch is a portmanteau of breakfast and lunch, and is often accompanied with an alcoholic beverage, like mimosa (equal parts oj and sparkling white wine or champagne). Typically brunch is served between 11 a.m. to 1:30 p.m., and includes both hot and cold dishes, as well as both sweet and savoury.

Our morning brunch was less elaborate and caffeinated instead…tea or coffee…but did include pancakes, sausages and homemade goodies… sourdough raisin muffins, hot cross buns, and peanut butter bread.

The peeps were also up for grabs! Happy Easter! Happy Monday!

Brunch:one meal to rule them all.

Dear Quaratine Diary – Week #52

Tags

Christmas, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, food, holiday, humour

Dear Diary – The raging inferno of my dying youth has been wreaking havoc for weeks, so on Christmas Eve, I wore my ugly Christmas t-shirt. Just the thought of an ugly Christmas sweater made me break out in sweat.

So did baking pie. I baked a green tomato pie using green tomatoes that were stored in my parents’ freezer. The foil on the top said “Happy Thanksgiving 2020!” I soaked the raisins in rum, which sparked a series of “Jenn’s in the rum” jokes.

And I alarmed Youngest Son when I passed him in the living room and shared that “I’m done decorating Dad’s log”. What I meant was that I was finished decorating his birthday cake, a yule log cake, but you can imagine the terrible mental image I painted for him.

Hubby and Big Guy arrived in time for dinner. It was a slow drive because Hubby’s car was making rude noises on the highway, and he had to take the “scenic route”. I could finally tuck in for a long winter nap with my favourite peeps.

With no little ones in the house we slept in and took the morning slow. I broke out my first German stollen.

https://www.daringgourmet.com/stollen-german-christmas-bread/

We opened gifts and I finally got to see what this was:

We exchanged gifts before lunch, which included silly socks, goofy t-shirts, even a whopee cushion…because the joke never gets old. I could finally give Auntie M her new gnome; I was having too much fun with it.

Gnome-gnomes

Up to gnome good!

Hanging with my gnomies

Don’t worry – Auntie M’s gnome was quarantined prior to the holidays and properly masked with a handmade, blue tissue-paper mask.

Even though we thought we’d never need to eat again, the dinner hour arrived. With leftovers laid out, one by one, we fixed a plate and enjoyed round #2. We also enjoyed a rousing game of Scattergories, which was particularly hilarious with our tryptophan-induced brains.

The day ended with a bang! I asked had asked Eldest Son to help Auntie M take her things to car, then I went in my room to put on my fuzzy jammies. Nice Mama! It had been raining all day but we didn’t realize how much it had iced over. I heard the crash from the far side of the house and I knew it was bad. Both Auntie M and Eldest Son had fallen, but Auntie M wasn’t getting up. Dad is a retired firefighter and we let him take the lead. I called 911 and we paced inside, while Eldest Son and Dad kept Auntie M company and scraped ice off cars and the sidewalk. When they went to move her vehicle so ambulance could park closer, the doors were frozen shut. They also wandered carefully, with flashlights, looking for her car keys, her purse, and the crockpot lid, which all went flying! Thankfully, the hospital wasn’t busy and Auntie M was not seriously injured. She was sent home at midnight. Dad and Eldest Son made sure Auntie M and her pumpkin car, made it home. She’s badly bruised, and in no hurry to get back out there! I wonder if she’s working on the evil puzzle I gave her…

The rest of the week has been spent sleeping in, watching Harry Potter movies, and eating non-stop. We’ve also played board games. Mom got upset when she spotted someone’s trains on “her” track. It was her train. Eldest Son was given a couple of genuine Guiness and the closest thing we could find for a proper drinking vessel was a flower vase. Boxing Night, we watched Christmas Vacation, my all-time favourite Christmas movie. Right up there with…Die Hard!

These guys really like Cousin Eddie

I also had one final sewing project to complete by the end of the year, which should have been easy peasy. Instead, it took several hours because I’m so talented. I sewed things in wrong and had to rip them out over and over. I spilled warm tea all over the table, and me! Then, with only 1.5 inches left to sew, the machine started to grab and snarl, and make a right mess of it. After multiple stitching and ripping, and with more holes in the fabric than on a tattoo artist, my Dad took the machine apart. Back together again, and with the end so close I could taste it, I started to sew, hit a pin, and snapped the needle.

I finished the bag the next day!

It’s hard to believe that a New Year is right around the corner. I’m not sure yet if we’ll be ringing it in with Eldest Son’s traditional crack of his Terry’s chocolate orange. His girlfriend’s father passed away suddenly from covid; her mother was released from hospital earlier this week. He may be heading home to spend some time with her. If she had called him on Christmas Day and asked him to come, I would have given him my blessing. While there is no better place than with my family around me, I’m well aware that we’re all growing up, and I never want to be an obstacle in my children’s lives. I just pray they’ll still share a slice of their life with me. Afterall, they were once my whole world.

When we took this photo December 31, 2019, I had just quit my job. I had spent November coping with kitchen renovations and December baking up a storm. Youngest Son was facing his Grade 9 first semesters finals, the only ones he’s written to date. Eldest Son was preparing for a career-advancing exam. And my folks were planning their annual trip to Myrtle Beach. We had no idea what was to come…

I still somehow feel like we’ve lost time, 2 years to be exact. As if we have all been hibernating and it’s time for new beginnings and greater adventures. I feel like we should be celebrating the start of 2020, not 2022.

Like we deserve a do-over.

Don’t we? It’s time to re-engage with the great big world beyond our front doors, even if that engagement is a phone call, an email, a handwritten letter. I’m not suggesting we disobey the rules or take unnecessary risks. I never want to put others in harm’s way, but our souls don’t belong to a virus. We can’t let covid hold us hostage any longer. It’s time to resdiscover joy. One day at a time.

Happy New Year! See you in 2022!

The joy of the Lord is your strength

Nehemiah 8:10

Dear Quaratine Diary – Week#51

Tags

Christmas, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, holiday, humour

Dear Diary – It’s Christmas Eve Day Eve Day, and I am home!

It doesn’t matter that it isn’t the house where I grew up! It doesn’t matter that the cookies never got decorated, or that my hair didn’t get dyed, or that my Christmas skirt may not even fit. All that matters is that this year I’m truly in the one place in the world where I most want to be, and in one more sleep, I’ll be with most of the people I treasure.

I know I am blessed.

I know it will not always be this way.

But today, I am here and I will live in today. The present is a gift.

The week has been a blur of activity – finishing gifts, making sponge toffee, and Hubby’s birthday cake. He’s a Christmas Eve baby! Last Saturday I leaned into my German roots and attempted stollen. I even soaked my fruit in spiced rum.

On Monday, Hubby and I watched the Love Nature channel. It’s not really our thing but it’s on free preview and the videography is amazing. In the ad for their channel, they talk about how there are no sleepy Mondays on Love…I say they need to read the room! Sleepy Monday sounded good to me!

My mind has been humming at full tilt, somtimes overheating my body, and I have to step outside to cool off. It’s been keeping running lists of things to do and things to pack: baking, clothing, food, gifts, games and entertainment. Somehow I prepared meals in the chaos, and the pile of dirty dishes never ended. Amazing in a family of only 3.

My brain has been so scattered as a result, and I’ve made several stupid mistakes and extra trips up and down stairs. I posted Wilderness Wednesday a day early, and didn’t realize it until I was waiting in the Tim Horton’s drive-thru at 1 in the afternoon, between a chiropractor appointment and a grocery/gift delivry to a friend. There was no time to stay for tea, hence the Tim’s delivery too. I had to make a last-minute trip for fabric – both for a post-Christmas order for a knot bag and in case everything shuts down again. A very real possibility, so I purchased enough fabric, on faith that I would make some sales, for January projects. No one corrected me to say I was a day early, which I appreciated! 🙂

It turned out I wasn’t the only one confused on days because they had too much going on. Mom read my Monday blog on Tuesday, and thought it was Tuesday all day, and couldn’t figure out why I kept saying I might be coming the next day because didn’t I have an appointment?

My travel plans were precarious, even without the ever-threatening covid restrictions. I had planned to travel on Wednesday, but it was supposed to be a blizzard with high winds. If it was, I’d leave Thursday. But the forecast kept changing, with heavy winds Wednesday afternoon and snow on Thursday. So I dragged Younger Son from his sweet slumber and we ran a marathon to get on the road. He even remembered to grab granola bars because we’re not making any pit-stops on the way. He even brought the chocolate kind I like.

It was sunshine all the way!

Christmas road trips are always accompanied by two favourite Christmas cds: John Denver & the Muppets, and The Arrogant Worms. Even last year when the road trip was only halfway home to trade gifts and goodies with my parents because we couldn’t be together.

Dad looks less like Santa Claus this year!

But Younger Son’s tastes in music has changed over the years and he actually prefers silence. I can’t drive in silence, especially for over 2 hours. Normally he doesn’t sleep either but since he’d run a marathon before noon, half an hour into our trip, his head started to bob. I waited patiently until he was “out”, and I slipped in The Muppets first. My uncle H was a fun & fantastic guy, and we’ve missed him for years. I can remember him taking my brother and me to the city to see the first Muppet movie in the theatre. I was 6. He introduced us to this cd, singing alongside, and excitedly telling us to “listen” just before the funny parts. I still listen closely for the “funny” parts!

The other cd has unusual Christmas songs in several genres of music, that also make me smile, like Vincent the Christmas Virus (5 year old Younger Son thought Vincent was a Christmas Pirate) or Daddy Threw Up On Christmas Day. Or the song about Santa getting arrested, the Christmas Fruit Brick, and Santa singing the blues because:

I use to be jolly, now I’m depressed
Had a twinkle in my eye, now I’ve got a bullet proof vest
Cuz if the pace don’t kill me, some gun totting yahoo will
They keep shooting at me like I’m some sort of big fat red criminal

Got the Christmas blues, I’m starting to see
That I gotta be some sort of loser to get paid in milk and cookies

I’ve already listened to Bing Crosby dreaming of a White Christmas, which is better than listening to George Michael crooning about his bad taste in partners when he gave his heart away at Christmas. He’s planning to do it again this year.

So I’ve stitched the last handmade gift and all the gifts are under the tree. The goodies are mostly in the freezer, out of reach. I’ll thaw Hubby’s birthday cake and turn it into a yule log tomorrow. I’ll also thaw my green tomato pie filling, for tomorrow. I can’t snack on either one. I’m also the queen of Mom’s latrine!

After an exciting game of Play 9 (I won!), we settled in last night for another winter slumber. A large moon, nearly full, climbed into a clear sky and rested over a tall pine. Moonbeams glinted off the icicles over the kitchen window, and bathed the fields in white. I stepped out on the deck, in my slipper socks, snow crunching under foot. The sky was so clear, I could see the milky way, and I listened to the silence.

Was it this clear and this quiet on that first Christmas?

While the Town of Bethlehem slept, the moon witnessed the greatest gift coming to earth in the smallest and less likely packagae of all – a baby. Immanuel – God With Us.

Was it this clear and quiet on the first Christmas as the moon shone on plain and lowly shepherds watch their little lambs sleeping. They were unaware that they were about to step into the pages of history as the first to hear the heavenly announcement. Christ is Born.

Was it this clear and quiet on the first Christmas when wise and learned men spotted a star in the sky, heralding the birth of the King of kings, and began their long journey to worship at His feet? The Hope for all the Nations.

‘Cause how many kings stepped down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
And how many Gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that is torn all apart?
How many Fathers gave up their Sons for me?

Only one did for me.

Downhere, How Many Kings

Merry Christmas!

What’s in My Cup: Christmas Morning

Tags

Christmas, food, holiday, tea, tea addict, tea lover, tea time

Christmas is only 6 days…Santa is coming!

My plan is to do what I have done every year for the past 40+ years (with the exception on last year): wake up in my parents’ home and celebrate Jesus’ birthday with my family. That’s Plan A. But I also have Plan B. And Plan C. I hope it doesn’t come to Plan C because it involves a sugar-induced coma. And since it’s not guaranteed that I will be embarking on Plan A just yet, I decided to start celebrating a little early with a cup of Stash Christmas Morning Tea. It is a blend of black and green tea lavishing the imbiber with a bold flavour, like English Breakfast tea, as well as gentle floral notes of jasmine.

Christmas Morning Tea is part of the Holiday Family Tea series, which contain an assortment of seasonal flavours and spices in black, white or herbal blends. It’s available in many grocery, drug, and box stores, as well as online. I picked mine up at the Bulk Barn. If you want something spicier, I’d also recommend Holiday Chai and Red Dragon Chai. But after December, they can be hard to find!

I think it’s a welcome change to plain black tea when I’m busying myself with fun, holiday things. This morning I enjoyed a quiet moment at the start of my day, next to the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. And perhaps I’ll savour another as a pick-me-up while I continue baking spiced breads, cakes and cookies, wrapping last-minute gifts, or packing to travel.

It’s possible Santa would appreciate a cup to refresh him during his international flight in only 5 sleeps! I’m not ready….are you?

You better watch out, you better not cry
Better not pout I’m telling you why
Santa Claus is comin’ to town

 J. Fred Coots and Haven Gillespie

CFFC: Holiday Colours

Tags

Christmas, family, holiday, Photo Challenge, photography

My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: Loving others.

Bob Hope

This is my post for Cee Neuner’s Fun Foto Challenge: Holiday Colours.

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week#49

Tags

baking, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, food, holiday, humour, nature, photography, squirrels

Dear Diary – It’s hard to believe that a year ago, we were preparing for the holidays with the threat of lockdowns over our heads, as the numbers of covid cases rose alarmingly. I spent my first Christmas away from my parents in almost 50 years. We met in the parking lot halfway between our homes for 5 minutes, long enough to swap gifts, snap a pic and wave. I dashed through a grocery store to buy last minute groceries, and I bought a turkey from a friend who had an extra one.

With optimism, we were told it would all be over by next Christmas if we all pulled together. Some of us never stopped pulling. At least I can say:

Dear Diary – Is cheese on apple pie really weird? I know that green tomato pie grosses a lot of people out, but it’s a long-standing tradition on my Dad’s side. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it! I also grew up with cold cheddar cheese on warm apple pie, not the processed kind (that’s gross), but a thick slab of aged cheddar. The only other options were whipped cream or ice-cream.

I had no idea that cheese on pie could be as polorizing as pineapple on pizza. The idea started in England in the early 17th century, with diary-based sauces in pies, which transitioned to on pies. Poet, Eugene Field wrote, “But I, when I undress me / Each night, upon my knees / Will ask the Lord to bless me / With apple pie and cheese.” Mr. Field experienced apple pie differently than us. Apples just weren’t as sweet then, as they are today. Red delicious apples didn’t appear until 2 centuries later, and with the lack of refrigeration, ice-cream was out of the question. Cheese offered a salty addition to a rather bland fruit pie. The trend travelled across the pond and is more common in farming communities, where cheese is produced, than in cities, where ice-cream is king. What’s your preference?

An apple pie without the cheese is like a kiss without the squeeze.

Dear Diary – An old Facebook Memory from December 2016 came up in my feed:

“Told I look “creepy” in my nightshirt by my child. Considering walking child to the school door wearing nightshirt. Now that would be creepy.”

Dear Diary – It’s toffee time! Armed with my very specific list, I braved the bulk food store for my Christmas baking ingredients, and chocolate hazelnut toffee was at the top of the list! The recipe came from an old Woman’s World magazine (such a sexiest title)!

The first step was to finely chop the hazelnuts, which proved to be a challenge because hazelnuts are round. Every time I tried to slice, and at risk to my fingers, the nut would ping off the counter. They were louder and larger than the bbs that went flying the weekend before, but that’s another story. Bottomline, they both hurt when you step on them, and they both like to roll under the stove. Someday I’ll clean under there and I’ll wonder why there are peas, hazelnuts and bbs.

Then I had a brilliant idea, that prompted me to tell my guys to keep their hands off my nuts: The Slap Chop! Creepy informercial pitchman Vince used to “wow” us in ads for a chopping machine that “slices and dices” food when you slap the plunger. Except that I’m too short to get much leverage. Hubby and Younger Son, who tower over me, had to step in.

They were only too happy to step in to sample too. I had to set the timer on the microwave to keep the wolves at bay until the chocolate had set…and even then some of the chocolate stuck to the counter when I turned it out. After complaining that I’m never in family photos, Hubby stepped in there too.

You didn’t seriously expect me to let good chocolate go to waste!

Dear Diary – Note to self: mini wheats as a last minute bed time snack is a poor choice because I can’t just hork it down in a hurry. It requires chewing, thorough chewing or I choke on the “sticks”. It sticks in my teeth and around the gumline so brushing is “extra special”. And this time, the milk…something was off with that milk. Better to stick with something healthy and sensible…like fruit, with chocolate.

Dear Diary – The Squirrel Games has intensified. Two weeks ago, Hubby had to make some adjustments to our bird feeder because a trio of black squirrels had found it and the leader of the pack is settling in nearby for the winter. He’s an adept trapeze artist. It’s not uncommon to catch him hanging under the feeder, and hunting with his forepaw for the goodies. I wouldn’t object to feeding the squirrels if they weren’t such pigs! But now that some birds have finally found the feeder, I want to enjoy them too. It may be closest I get to a pet since I live with Scrooge.

Older Son offered some firepower, but long story short, both of his parents failed to get it to work, and someone barely missed me, so the “toys” have been safely put away. I suspect sabotage…squirrel sabotage!

In a feeble attempt to discourage this rogue, Hubby nailed down some “scat cat” pads, plastic squares with spikes. The railing looks like something from Mad Max, but the birds don’t seem to mind. Neither does the squirrel, apparently.

Hubby decided we should take down the feeder and I was terribly discouraged. Maybe it’s the time of year, missing loved ones and knowing so many who are experiencing their first Christmas without someone, others, their last. Maybe it’s the knowledge that Younger Son will be leaving the nest soon, and can’t wait to “escape”! Maybe it’s the uncertainty of holiday plans as covid numbers rise and we just don’t know when, or if, we’ll be with family. Lately it feels like even the little things that give me pleasure keep being taken away. I just have to keep committing it all to the Lord. He knows my heart. And my squirrel!!

It snowed softly yesterday, and in between piles of dishes and cherry squares (that taste good but look like Mad Max baked them), I watched a number of little feathered friends visiting in the back. One little nuthatch especially caught my eye. He must have felt very safe there because he nestled down on the outer ledge of the feeder and watched the snow falling too.

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?

Matthew 6:26 (NIV)

Dear Diary – I’m taking my friend on a quest north for her covid booster shot. Unfortunately, she’s booked in the middle of rush hour. I sense adventure, and not the “good” kind.

Reference: Cheese & Apple Pie