Merry Christmas

This is a very different Christmas for me. I'm thinking of the family all together for the morning's festivities. Every year since my oldest nephew was born, the whole family gets together very early Christmas morning and we open all of our gifts together. I remember Christmases when we traveled from Pittsburgh to my sisters house in Grand Island and all of the gifts for all of the family members where placed "under" the tree late Christmas eve. There were times that no one could walk into the room because the packages covered the entire floor! Once we all settled into our usual seats (Grandpa in the corner) the kids handed out the gifts until each of us had a stack next to us. Then, one by one we opened a gift, held it up for all to see and giver and receiver alike received complements on their good taste or how well they'd use the gift. And then, on to the next. Oh... with one short tradition between. A ball of wrapping paper tossed at the youngest to deposit in the garbage bag (Brad won that honor for most of his life). About halfway through, we would take a break for more coffee and Christmas cookies (yes, cookies are an acceptable Christmas breakfast). On average? Three hours to open gifts.

Don and I were talking this morning and reliving memories. He remembers his 8 year younger sister Penny coming into his room while it was still dark one Christmas morning and giving an account of everything he and Eric received for Christmas that year. Seems that she decided to get a head start on the unwrapping. I remember opening gifts in the basement rec room in our house on Elmwood Avenue. I was probably in 4th or 5th grade and all I wanted was a chemistry set. We opened all the gifts and I came to the end of my pile and still no chemistry set. I remember the feeling when I was excited about all I had received, but sad because I really wanted that chemistry set (apparently looking at fly legs through a microscope held some appeal during those days). Then...surprise... it seems that a package with my name on it had "mistakenly" been placed in Chris' pile. Life was so good again, and the fly legs were within sight!

This morning we are at home, just Don, Chelsea and I. I was thinking that it wouldn't be Christmas without all the hustle and people. But surprise... it's still Christmas, just different. We slowly opened and ooh-ed and ahh-ed and enjoyed the receiving and giving. I miss everyone and can't wait until tomorrow to be with them. This year I get to have Christmas twice. Different, but both very good.

As a child, my mother used to make a great coffee cake. It was the standby for every occasion and everyone liked it. That was breakfast in Boiling Springs this morning. Here's the recipe:

Sour Cream Coffee Cake

3/4 c butter or margarine, softened
1 1/2 c sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
3 c flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 1/2 tsp soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 c sour cream
Filling (below)

Heat oven to 350. Grease tube pan, 10 x 4 inches or two loaf pans, 9x5x3. Combine butter, sugar,eggs and vanilla in large mixer bowl. Beat on medium speed 2 minutes or 300 vigorous strokes by hand. Mix in flour, baking powder, soda and salt, alternately with sour cream. Spread half of batter and sprinkle with half of filling. Repeat.

Bake about 60 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out cleann. Cool slightly in pan before removing.

Filling:Mix 1/2 c brown sugar(packed), 1/2 c finely chopped nuts and 1 1/2 tsp cinnamon (I didn't have nuts, so I increased the brown sugar and cinnamon in the same ratio)

Hint: I used low fat sour cream and only 1/4 c butter. Not quite the moisture I remember, but the flavor is still good.

By the way... it's especially good with a glass of milk, just like I remember it

Christmas is music

Is there a song that IS Christmas? For me, there have always been songs that just are the holiday. Especially amazing when you consider that I could not be more tone deaf!! When I was a little girl, I would watch those old Christmas movies... White Christmas and especially, The Bells of St. Mary's. In case you don't remember that far back, Bing Crosby is the common theme. I always thought of Bing Crosby as a fatherly figure...my movie star father. It was kinda tough when I found out he was ornery and even abusive. Oh well, for that. Still White Christmas and the Little Drummer Boy are never better than when sung by Bing-o.

Later I remember Amy Grant. I'm pretty sure that my family was saturated and then some with "Another Tender Tennessee Christmas". In spite of the hundreds of times I've listened to that song, I can almost always put myself into my sister Chris's kitchen. Its warm, the way all good and busy kitchens are on Christmas Eve day. There are all kinds of pots boiling and the smell is mouth watering. Family is everywhere. Bob comes in, sneaks a little taste of whatever there is and disappears again. A young Melanie decides on a black olive and maybe even replaces the cover on the relish tray. Brad walks by the cookie tray and finds a treat to take with him. No replacing the cover there... Grampie is probably right behind him. This is what Christmas is. Family. Good food. Warmth. Anticipation of the next two days. Above those things... it is the fact of being with people that you know better than anyone. The comfort of being free to be yourself. And the fact that we can all feel more because we get to be together. Every year it is worth the effort to be there. We all have Christmas traditions. My family is my Christmas tradition and no matter how the participants have changed over the years... somehow they all merge into one big Christmas get together in my mind.

Now I'm listening to "Joy to the World" and realizing again that in my mind and in my memory Christmas is music.

Do I have anything to say?

Everyone is blogging these days. I've become quite the blog reader, thanks to Mel, my daughter. First it was just her blog... what a great way to catch a glimpse of her life -- and those of my amazing grandchildren. It's so hard to be far away and feel like I don't know them... but the blog gives me insight I would never have had. So I've been loving it since she started blogging; her posts don't ever come often enough (twice a day with pictures might do it, Mel). Then I started reading other blogs. Following links from her blog. And links from those blogs. And so on. There are some pretty amazing people doing pretty amazing things while living every day lives.

I have no illusion that I am anywhere near amazing, or doing anything other than living an every day life, but I still have lots of reasons for starting this new effort. For a couple of years I kept a memory journal. Not recording the current day so that I could remember it, but recording memories... whatever happened to come to mind on any day when I had a minute or two to write it down. That notebook is probably still around here somewhere, but it's been very very long since I've written in it. Sitting down with a pen and notebook and taking all the time needed to scribble out some thoughts just doesn't fit with my life today. But grabbing my laptop and typing up a storm does. And there are so many memories that should be preserved. My dad and mom (aka Gram and Grampie), my big sis Chris, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and the cottage, glamorous Aunt Honey, little nephews and niece and a daughter and a son, snowy days and sunny days and... well, you get the picture.

Another thing? Many of those memories come along with a recipe. Seriously, I was raised by the best (and most detail oriented, perfecting and dedicated) baker in the universe and surrounded by perfect Polish delights from birth. Where are those recipes? There never were any written to start with. But through the years, some got written down. Maybe there are cousins or cousins-cousins with some of them to share -- I'll put 'em out there as I think of them or as I'm reminded by someone else.

And? Just now... at 6:03 pm, I got an email -- This is what it said:

"God determines who walks into your life....it's up to you to decide who you let walk away, who you let stay, and who you refuse to let go. "

How 'bout that. Here's to not letting go!