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January 16, 2007 It's the Moment You've All Been Waiting For 
Let's open our presents today. We are still waiting for three, I think, but at least one of them should show up today, and another is going to take some determined tracking down thanks to the USPS. Also, tomorrow LauraJ is taking Aaron for surgery and Carrie is now home w/ Peanut from their medical adventure, so today may be our only day where everyone is at home to open them. So today it is! Remember to take pictures so you can write a post about your perfect, thoughtful gift. Posted by Andrea at 8:34 AM | Comments (17) November 8, 2006 In Canada, 'tis the Season
Because our Thanksgiving is in October, once Hallowe'en is out of the way, it's Christmas. And I do mean Christmas--trees, santas, ornaments, lights, elves and reindeer in all the stores. Of course, "Holidays" is the official term, but the symbols are entirely Christmas. Except in my neighbourhood, which is predominantly Jewish. And in my house, which is entirely Yule. You'd have a hard time making the distinction between our Yule and Christmas, though. So I've been busy already, making an embroidered Santa pillow for my Mom, and cards for everyone. I'm up to 33 now, and not sure if I need to make any more.
The strange thing is that some of them turn out so well, and others so poorly, even using basically the same design. Effort doesn't seem to have much to do with it either, because some of my favourites took only a few minutes, and some of the ones I spent the most time on I don't really like. On Friday a friend and I went to a local scrapbooking store for a wild evening of card-making. I admired hers, she admired mine, and we both spent about five times as much money on card-making goodies as we would have spent on the equivalent number of Hallmark cards. But the money's not the point.
It's just satisfying to make them myself, and a pleasurable way to pass an evening or two. The hard part is giving them away.
Posted by Andrea at 7:10 AM | Comments (16) October 25, 2006 WHOYCBE Public Service Announcement
REMEMBER: Questionnaires are due by Tuesday. TODAY IS YOUR LAST DAY. If your answers aren't posted, you will not be included in the draw. This is only fair to the person who ends up drawing your name, and who might have no idea who you are or what you might like. I hate to be strict about this, but I will. At the very least do a half-assed post to get your spoilee started; you can modify it later if you need to. There are two names still to be added to the list, and I will do that after the Motherlode craziness is over. Links in the sidebar blogroll will be modified to point to questionnaire posts, so that no one's gets lost. After I've done this--by next Tuesday--I will do the draw. And when you've posted your answers, send me your snail-mail address. Send it to andrea AT athenadreaming DOT org. Otherwise, how are you going to get your present? Hmmm? Exactly. ~~~~~ Here's the list of people who have posted their answers and also notified me. If you are missing, let me know. I'd hate to pull your name from the draw because I missed it: Phasic WE ARE STILL WAITING FOR: Jen/MUBAR IF I DON'T HAVE YOUR QUESTIONNAIRE BY TUESDAY, I WILL KICK YOU OUT. AND THAT WILL MAKE ME FEEL CRAPPY AND GUILTY. BUT I WILL. Posted by Andrea at 6:02 AM | Comments (18) October 16, 2006 Winter Holiday of Your Choice Blog Extravaganza Gift Exchange Questionnaire Answers
I just blew all the post title rules right out the window. Anyway. Here are my answers; if you're in the gift exchange, don't forget yours! Fill in the blanks: If I could, I'd invent a a mind-meld device, and damn it, the world needs I sometimes buy fresh vegetables for work lunches, because it is/they are more like the If you came over to my house to play and touched my ________________ I'd be The colour/s no one in particular--anything dull or muddy makes me want to shave my eyeballs with a The colour/s anything light or bright is/are so beautiful that when I see them, a Most women's magazines makes me gag, feel it in my mouth for a minute, and I might get sick or die if I touch or ingest brussel sprouts, or look at Singing childrens' toys, especially those featuring Elmo gives me the willies and I might need to consider a I love the feel of silk? chenille? so much I want to hump it like a puppy on No one should have to watch me eat chocolate cheesecake brownie bars, because then I might I'm a grown-up now, so I don't have to eat raw vegetables any If I could invent a way to permanently coat my nostril hairs with this Three things I like that anyone might like: european chocolate Three things I like that nobody else in the world likes: I have TOO MANY/TOO MUCH OF craft supplies (not that this will stop me from buying more), and not enough Okay, we know the best things in life aren't things, but these are the best When people have kind, sweet and nice things about me, they're usually It's true, I'm a scrapbooker. I'm learning to be If I could have any talent in the world, I'd choose writing perfectly and use
A craft show, because you really need to find something attractive to cover Though if I made up my own, it would be the World's Biggest Bookstore. Without Frances. OR anyone else with me who might make me feel guilty for spending five hours in a bookstore, picking things up and putting them down again. And here's the last chance to make sure that you're not going to get a It is important to me that the items chosen for me And If I could suggest that you read only one post from my archives, this would And If I were to name the Holiday of my choice for this exchange, it would be: Posted by Andrea at 8:28 AM | Comments (4) January 19, 2006 Patience is its own reward, but a whole pile of loot doesn't hurt, either
So last week, I got my extravaganza gift. Finally! I'm so not a patient person--I'm the one who grumbles if the person walking in front of me is going less than 3 km/hr, and if you are driving in the left lane and not doing at least 20km/hr over the speed limit, beware! Not patient. So it was hard to wait, and wait and wait and wait, for my bloggy gift, although in a way I think it was easier than to wait and wait and wait for Saucy Sue's bloggy gift, because I don't have to feel guilty. And I was going to call this "Saving the Best for Last," but I'm not sure my gift is the last. Anyway, it showed up last week, and I braved a freezing rain storm to go out and get it because--you guessed it--I am not patient and could not wait until the next day. It was BIG. It was heavy. It said "2 books plus other stuff" on the customs label. It was not a shoebox. I was curious and overwhelmed. I brought it home, and because I am--here it is again!--not patient, I opened it right away. I saw before me many lovely parcels in white tissue paper tied with silver ribbons. (I also saw the card, but I'm saving that for the end.) Being a not-patient person, I ripped them all open, and assembled them on Frances's little art table to take a picture.
Speechless. Overwhelmed. I've been spoiled rotten! On the very left is a gold beaded candle, and on the very right is a little candle-holder for it to sit on. I immediately gave them a permanent home on the mantle:
In between is a package of round, colourful, glittery notecards--I'm going to guess that's a response to my preference for bright colours. On the left are also snowflake candles, and a little angel ornament that says "blessed are mothers." These two have been carefully packed away for next Christmas, and I can't wait to use them. Then there is the really big book underneath--do you see the really big book? That's like the world's biggest scrapbooking book ever. Oh my god. I will never run out of scrapping ideas again. (Thanks so much, and my husband hates you. Just kidding.) There were also two little scrapping doodads: some bubble stickers and some phrases. This won't make sense to anyone who doesn't scrapbook. I don't care! I love 'em. And then a paperback, because somehow she knew that I would run out of reading material on the 14th, and not be able to get myself anymore, and be feeling so antsy and jittery by the 16th that I was contemplating the telephone book, when her package arrived containing a book I've never read but often wanted to. Whew! My nerves thank you. And so does my husband, because it saved me a Chapters run, and those are never cheap. They have all settled in to their new home now: The scrapbooking book on the footrest, half-read; the scrappy bits in my box of scrappy bits, itching to be used; the book on the floor beside my bed; the notecards on the nighttable, dreaming of who to be sent to. And since all of those areas are disasters, I'm not showing pictures. But they're all happy smiley little presents. WHO WAS IT? you cry. WHO WHO WHO? Who was this superior gift-giving goddess?
If you've visited her blog, you'll recognize the photo. If not, I'll tell you who it was: Tara Marie! Thanks so much hon. You spoiled me rotten. It was great. Posted by Andrea at 9:45 AM | Comments (7) December 31, 2005 You're holding your breath, needing to know....
"CAN I OPEN MY PRESENT YET?????"
Oh, all right. If you have to. Fine! Twelve out of nineteen have received their packages so far. Five have not, and two have not checked in. As long as no one has yet received TWO packages (in which case I really screwed up), I think we're doing ok. So here's the plan. OPEN. TAKE PHOTOS. DO NOT POST. We'll keep the tentative post date of Jan 14 to give the rest of us (sob!) a chance to get our packages before the online fun seriously begins. But just in case your boxes hold perishables, I think it's a good idea to open them. Happy Opening! And Happy New Year! Posted by Andrea at 8:26 PM | Comments (19) December 26, 2005 What is this daisy braid you keep referring to, and why is it necessary?
So asks Marla, and this innocent question requires a complicated answer. Daisy Braid starts out like this:
That is: approximately 6 cups of flour measured out onto a piece of waxed paper, two packets of active dry yeast, half a cup of sugar, a quarter cup of softened butter, and two eggs. The bowl is full of warm water in the sink to warm it for the yeast. Plus a cup of warm milk that you can't see here because it's still in the microwave. After some vigorous mixing, it looks more like this:
This gets divided in half and vigorously kneaded for about twenty minutes total, requiring much eggnog (to keep up the strength, of course). Then each half is wrapped in plastic, covered with a towel, and allowed to rest for twenty minutes while I clean off the counter and sweep flour from the floor.
The fun part--punching down the dough--doesn't last nearly long enough. Each half is then made into a log--
--which is rolled out into a piece of dough 18"x6" and cut into three strips. The three strips are braided, placed into a round cake pan, and brushed with cooking oil.
These are covered loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerated for 2-48 hours. When they come out of the fridge (on Christmas morning) they look like this:
Put this in a 375 oven for 25-30 minutes, or until the top is a nice crusty golden brown. This intermission is the time when my family traditionally would open the Christmas presents, or at least the stockings. Take it out of the oven, turn it out onto a plate or a wire rack, and drizzle it with an icing made of 1/2 cup of icing sugar and 2-3 tsps of milk.
It is a fragrant, heavy, moist, sweet bread with a wonderful crunchy crust, and it is heaven fresh from the oven. It was also made by my mother every Christmas since before I was born, and I can no more imagine opening stockings without the scent of daisy braid coming from the kitchen than I could imagine celebrating the season by throwing eggs at the fireplace. Christmas morning=stockings, a cup of warm tea and a slice of daisy braid hot and fresh from the oven. Posted by Andrea at 10:11 AM | Comments (8) December 24, 2005 Merry Everything
We wish you every joy this holiday season, and as much peace as you can find.
See you after the holidays! Posted by Andrea at 6:54 PM | Comments (9) The Magic of the Season
Friday It won't burn. Spend two hours trying to figure out why. Come up with a short list of reasons, none of which are fixable by Christmas. Transfer energies to the handmade Santas for my Mom. At 11:00 pm, discover that they are not going to work. Decide to keep the two aborted Santas for our family. Cry. Start fixing up the last Santa ornament in a much better way, but figure out by midnight that it is not going to be finished in time. Think if only I'd known that none of the others would work, I could have just done this one and it would be finished. Resign myself to Christmas Eve shopping so I will have something for my mother. Christmas Eve Get to Big Box Bookstore before the crowds descend and find something for my Mom. Get some last-minute groceries. Try one last time to get the frickin' dvd to burn. Give up. Decide to burn it as a much smaller vcd project instead, so there will be something, even though it won't be as cute. (Waaaah!) Maybe we can fix it in time for my mom's birthday next weekend. Left to do: Daisy Braid. Merry Friggen Christmas. (Bad mood to exit in precisely one hour.) Posted by Andrea at 11:53 AM | Comments (5) December 21, 2005 Happy Yule, Merry Solstice, etc.
It amuses me every year when fundamentalist christian organizations object to the paganism of Christmas. Not because they're wrong, heavens no--because they're right. It is pagan, and what I say is, let's make it more so. First a slight detour through pop culture, then I'll see how close I get to wrapping this thing up: Every year the culture industry produces throwaway Holiday Hits that last for a season and then fade permanently from view, featuring starlets in attractive clothing posing provacatively in snowy landscapes. As a marketing tool, it's effective, but it has as much to do with the Winter Solstice as Bob the Builder chocolate bulldozers have to do with the Spring Equinox (Easter/Ostara/other seasonal spring holidays). But there are some culture pieces that resonate for decades and continue to find new audiences long after the stars who made them passed on. There's a reason for this--the ones that last tap into the symbols and ideas of the Winter Solstice. Any TV special or movie I can think of that continues to play more than a few years after it was made has a few things in common: 1. Death, whether literal or symbolic I've already said that the Winter Solstice is depressing, and these movies demonstrate that in spades--someone dies, or goes to jail, or dies AND goes to jail, or loses their entire family, or endures ridicule and ostracism, or has everything stolen, or loses their entire community, or melts to death in a greenhouse. That's a whole lot of death for a time of year that we traditionally think of as "merry," "jolly," or "about family," especially since most of these are putatively children's shows. But this is a holiday held on the threshold of a season of death; how could it be any other way? The other side of the depressing coin is rebirth: On the very same day that the sun "dies" (i.e. the shortest day of the year), it is also "reborn." This is, I believe, why Christmas and other winter solstice celebrations are such a huge deal in the northern hemisphere, and moreso the farther north you go. The Solstice is a moment of tremendous psychological release. It isn't the denouement; it's the climax. A Christmas Carol is the pre-eminent example, and it shows: There is the classic movie adaptation with Alistair Sims, half a dozen other serious film versions, Scrooged with Bill Murray, a muppets version, a Disney version, and--how many others? I have no idea. Are there any other books that have been turned into movies so regularly? Is it even remotely possible that this book and all the movies it has spawned would be anywhere near as popular if it had been set in, say, June? The strange thing is that A Christmas Carol is ostensibly Christian (something much clearer in the book, where there is much sermonizing disguised as dialogue), but the pagan influences of the ancient Winter Solstice traditions are about as clear as ice crystal patterns on a windowpane. First there is Scrooge, a mean old cuss if ever there was one, and a pretty good ringer for Winter in general: cold, shrunken, rimed with white, hard, grasping, and given to meanness (also consider that he is born innocent and good, and becomes cruel--much like an aging year). Then Death comes to take him away in the guise of a series of ghosts, and brings him back--reborn as a figure of light on Christmas Day. Miracle on 34th Street is a bit more subtle, as Death is recast as institutionalization and the loss of faith and magic, but the themes are still there: The coldness, cruelty and murderous intentions of Winter are portrayed by characters who have lost all faith in hope and magic, and are intent on imprisoning those tendencies where they appear. Faith dies when Santa himself agrees that he is not real, and colludes in his own imprisonment: And then faith is reborn when magic is vindicated in the hallways of reason. The central characters are transformed by their experiences, from dark to light, from cold to warm. It's A Wonderful Life is a much simpler example: A man's despair and fear of his future causes him to erase himself from the world, and so he dies: But then he is reborn and hope is restored. In One Magic Christmas--a three-hanky movie if ever there was one--Winter comes to one woman's life when she loses her husband and children within thirty minutes, right before Christmas. But these figures are literally reborn, and hope and happiness are restored. The third theme, of magic, is so obvious that it hardly requires demonstration, but to be complete: None of these losses and then regains are symbolic. They are all *really real.* The heroine of One Magic Christmas doesn't just believe that her husband and children are dead: They are really dead, but then they aren't. In Miracle on 34th Street, it really is Santa Claus. In A Christmas Carol, they really are ghosts; Scrooge really is dead; but then he isn't, and everything is fine. Even A Christmas Story plays with these themes in a light-hearted way. What's special about the theme of magic is that it is not intended solely for children. If someone made a movie about the easter bunny or the tooth fairy being "really real" and targeted it to adults--well, it would be ridiculous, wouldn't it? Who would see it? Ah, but Santa Claus: That's different. Even in the most adult of holiday fare (who would consider One Magic Christmas a kids' movie?) Santa is "really real." This is the one time of year when it's ok for grown-ups to believe in magic, too. (Some of us flout this and believe all year long, but it's hardly condoned.) Magic is special; it seems at least partially unique to western celebrations (perhaps because we're worked so hard to eradicate it from the rest of the calendar). But rebirth is a common theme throughout winter solstice celebrations. If I read over the lists I linked to before, here are the ones that deal explicitly with the rebirth of the sun, or light, or a sun-god: Celtic Even more can be related through themes of the increase of light, and victory over darkness, however symbolized. It isn't universal (nothing human is truly universal, we're such damned ornery animals) but it's pretty close, as human traditions go. And I say, instead of fighting it--instead of each sect and clan and tribe and nation having its own explanation for why this day over that, or why this party instead of that one, or why ours is better than yours which is just heathen/secular/commercialized/blasphemous, or whose holiday this really is--I say, we go with it. Think about it: After you peel off all the layers of symbolism and meaning that we and our ancestors have attached to the winter solstice over the eons, after you look behind the ritual celebrations of rebirth or victory or life or however our ancestors understood this momentous event of the year, what are we really celebrating? Sunshine. Yes, folks; sunshine. All of this yearly wrangling over who gets to party, and who doesn't, and which party is holy and which isn't, and whether it's "really" Christ's birthday, and if it's ok to do Santa or Christmas trees or lights if you're not Christian (as if the Christian God somehow has a closer connection with the Noble Fir than he does with maple trees), it all comes down to nice weather. And honestly, if we as a species cannot unite behind NICE WEATHER as a universal human value, then we are doomed. I can so easily imagine early Christians in the 10th century in Europe having exactly the same conversations we have today, but in reverse: "I'm not a pagan, but I love those Yule logs. I'm going to burn one. Do you think God will send me to hell?" This is not to say that the various cultural accretions over the millennia lack substance or value: If December 25th is the day you choose to celebrate the birth of Christ, that's wonderful and meaningful. It doesn't have to be really the day of his birth to be a good day to celebrate it, and the solstice is a good time of year to do so, if you're going to pick one. My point is only that the solstice doesn't belong to anyone, any more than the sun does; and the evergreen trees, the red and green, the holly and mistletoe, Santa, presents, food and wine, lights, candles, songs and parties ARE pagan, and therefore belong to everyone, too. Or everyone who wants them, anyway. Let's take it further. Many pagan cultures celebrated the solstice by turning the social order upside down--women dressed as men, and men as women; masters lived the day as slaves, and slaves took over the mansion to rule; the poor ordered the rich and the king left his throne for the holiday. I think that's a great idea. Gods know there are SOME American Presidents (not naming any names) for whom it would be highly educational, and it admits to a flexibility with social roles and gender categories that is sorely lacking in our culture today. This isn't a secularization or a commercialization; it's an acknowledgement that we are all fundamentally celebrating the same event understood through different lenses, in different ways. I believe we can celebrate the differences and the samenesses, taking from each tradition what fits with our own beliefs and impulses and brings us a sense of meaning. Because regardless of what you and your family do between now and mid-January to celebrate whichever holiday you hold dear, the sun is going to shine for you and yours, too. Posted by Andrea at 11:41 AM | Comments (4) December 20, 2005 Santa as Art
Last Thursday at Frances's daycare they held their annual holiday party which consisted mainly, I'm told, of each class (infant, toddler and preschooler) putting together their own little show and performing it for the parents who could be present. HOW I WISH I COULD HAVE BEEN THERE! I can't imagine anything cuter. The infants did a fashion show, all dolled up in holiday wear, and were pranced around the room by grinning daycare workers. The preschoolers sang some songs and did some skits. And the toddler room sang three songs, two Christmas and one Hannukah. Erik took some great shots of Frances holding up her fake "candles" during the Hannukah song.
Photo has been ruthlessly cropped to protect the privacy of her classmates. The event was topped off, appropriately enough, by a Jewish Santa: and lest anyone think I am being terribly politically incorrect, this was how he identified himself to Erik. "I'm the jewish Santa," he said, and related the sad tale of all the ribbing he took at his office for the role. We'd been warned about the visit of the jolly red elf a week in advance (though not of his particular incarnation) and were asked to bring one gift-wrapped present with a value under $10 labelled for Frances, for "Santa" to give her at the party. Frances was not at all impressed by Santa at first; when she was plunked on his lap, she cried real tears.
The Joy of Christmas Not that it made her less adorable, of course; but when Santa produced that magical gift-wrapped package and she opened it up to see her toys!
The Miracle of Little People All of a sudden, Santa was one cool guy. She even smiled!
The Magic of Toys The excitement lasted her all day. When I got home that evening, all I heard about for the first hour was SANTA and the TOYS and LOOK AT THAT! And DOG! And HORSE! And LITTLE GIRL! She held one in each hand all evening long. If we wanted to go downstairs, she would say, "I bring it downstairs," and tuck one under her chin. If we were going upstairs, she would say, "I bring it upstairs," and tuck one under her chin again. Then she would hold it out to inspect it, softly squeal "look at that!" and line them all up in a row on the edge of her toy bin. I don't think it was the toys. I don't think it was "getting stuff." If we had popped these into the cart on a shopping expedition, she would have liked them, but not this much; the toys are not that impressive, as toys go. No. What got her so excited was magic. She showed up at her regular daycare, expecting a regular day. Instead SANTA!* showed up, and gave her a hug, and a nice little wrapped gift that is just exactly what she wanted! How did he know? Who is he? Why did he give her this present? How wonderful! Magic gets short shrift these days. We adults tend to think of it as something unexplainable--something for which there can be no explanation, something outside the bounds of science. Most of us realize, truthfully enough, that there is no such thing: Ultimately the most magical of phenomena will be explained by science. But to me, this doesn't invalidate magic; it invalidates our definition. Magic is simply what is unexplained. Maybe there is a good reason for a seeming miracle, but who cares? Isn't it more fun sometimes not to know? The world's best magicians are masters at this. The audience knows there is a rational explanation, but it's more fun to gasp and admire the trick; to enjoy the illusion that science has been violated. We don't think they are lying to us, or deceiving us; we won't wake up to the realization five years from now that the magician never really sawed that woman into thirds after all! Performing Santa is the execution of a meticulous magic trick: It is not to lie or deceive, but to entertain. It is to create the illusion of a miracle. So I don't tie myself up in knots about whether or not I'm "lying" to Frances. I'm not, anymore than a stage magician "lies" to his audience, or nature "lies" to us when something that shouldn't be able to happen (according to our current understanding) does on a regular basis. I'm fanatically wedded to the idea of truth, and not for a moment do I believe I am violating it. For many years to come, I will coax ideas out of my little girl, of what she wants above all else. I will encourage her to believe in the myth of this happy, child-loving man who wants nothing more than to make her happy one day each year by bringing to her what she wants most. I will buy separate wrapping paper, and use different handwriting on the tags; I will eat the cookies left out on Christmas Eve; I will take her to sit on his lap at the mall and get a photo taken; I will do everything in my power to make the illusion seamless and real. Much as shamans used to dress up as elk to invoke the spirit of that which they wanted to be real, and then were elk, in the sense that mattered to them, once a year I will pretend to be Santa in order to make him real. I will do this to see her eyes light up, as they did when she showed me the miracle of the present she got from Santa at the daycare that day. ~~~~~ * I hope that it goes without saying that I don't think of Santa as a Christian figure. As we all know, most of the saints were heavily borrowed from pagan mythology; I feel no sense of theological discomfort in celebrating Santa Claus while cheerfully asserting that Jesus is only one of many important reasons for the season. In fact, to me, Santa is very pagan--VERY pagan--big guy in a fancy outfit, riding a sleigh with magic flying reindeer, giving out happiness and pleasure to all? Bacchus himself couldn't be more hedonistic. Posted by Andrea at 3:33 PM | Comments (7) December 19, 2005 I figure I'm entitled to one freakout, anyway
EDITED to put this back at the top b/c there's some customs discussion in the comments section. ~~~~~ Today is the day to get the gifts in the mail for the Winter Holiday of Your Choice Blog Extravaganza Gifty Thingie. Just please please tell me that if one person gets two gifts, and someone else doesn't get any, or if there are in any other ways any screw-ups, that you won't all hate me, because I tried to avoid them, and I sure hope there aren't any, and I don't have any reason to believe that there are, but now that it's the Day of Truth I'm feeling a little twisty in the stomach. Being the organizer is a big responsibility. Whew. Posted by Andrea at 7:54 AM | Comments (24) December 12, 2005 Like I Said, It's Genetic
Here is a small sampling of the Christmas Insanity from one room of my parents' house. The tree, and a nearby lighted spot:
Different Santa spots:
Different lighted village displays:
Frances, being indoctrinated by her Mumms:
These were all the pictures I had opportunity to take. I'll let you imagine the rest of the house. But as you can clearly see, I was doomed. Posted by Andrea at 9:17 AM | Comments (6) December 11, 2005 What I Did This Weekend
There's only two weeks to go, and the pressure is on.
As of 8:00 am Sunday morning, I've: - Heat embossed all of the images for the holiday cards.
Fun fun fun!
The frightening thing is, this was fun. I made enough for about thirty cards, and only stopped with great reluctance. It's fast and easy, it looks smart, and it appeals to the geek in me to see the powders melt and rise and turn shiny. - I assembled eight of the cards. Here's an example:
Could Blitzen be visiting a mailbox near you?
- I've baked shortbread, gingersnaps, sugar cookies and chocolate truffles.
Yet more evidence of my sickness
The trick is to run it like an assembly line, and if that sounds like no fun, well then, difference is what makes the world go round. Make the gingersnap dough; make the gingersnaps; make the truffle centre mix (and it is possibly the easiest and most decadent-looking baked good ever); refrigerate it; make the sugar cookie dough and refrigerate it; make the shortbread dough and refrigerate that; take out the sugar cookie dough, roll it out and cut it; bake it; when the last tray full is baking, clean off the counter; take out the shortbread and get it in the oven; while they're baking (they take 25 minutes) roll the truffle mix into balls and put them in the freezer.
Or if you're like me, shape them into something vaguely round and give up. They taste just as good, so who cares? By the way, when I say the easiest and most decadent baked good ever, I mean it: They look intimidating, but they are shockingly simple: Melt butter and heat cream in a pot on the stove, pour over a bowl full of chopped chocolate, mix until the chocolate has melted completely, add a bit of vanilla, put in the fridge. Ta da! Truffle mix. The recipe I use says to dip them afterwards in a melted chocolate mixture: You can do that. It's yummy, and it's not too hard. But I prefer to roll them in icing sugar. It looks sharp, for one thing; it's easier, for another; it's very tasty; and it makes for easy handling, since there's something on the outside that won't melt.
Today, assembling more cards and trying to finish the Winter Holiday of Your Choice Blog Extravaganza Gifty Thingie. We're going to visit my parents, so I don't think I'll have time for any more baking today. Though there will at least be a batch of Cheesecake Brownies, Super Easy Chocolate Bar Cookies (and they are--let me know if you want the recipe), probably Holiday Blossoms, at least one more batch of shortbread (a very simple three-ingredient brown-sugar recipe which has been handed down for generations, so no sharing, sorry--but I have another one that I can share which is similar) since I'm married to a shortbread monster and seem to have spawned another one, and some white chocolate truffles. And then we'll see. Strange as I'm sure this sounds, I really love this. I'll enjoy the time after Christmas when I can just sit back and eat the fruits of my labours, too, but this part--the frenzied preparation, every second planned out--is marvelous. Seeing everything take shape and come together the way I wanted, hammering out new traditions, making everything lovely, and--as sick as I know you will think this--doing as much as possible of it by hand--it just wouldn't be the Winter Holiday of My Choice any other way. I would have made a fabulous Victorian housewife, if anything could ever induce me to use a broom. Posted by Andrea at 8:23 AM | Comments (8) December 6, 2005 More on the Solstice
I'm not going to shut up about it for good until January. You've been warned. Abbey's comment on the last post brings me to another point (thanks, Abbey!): Christmas trees. And holly. And mistletoe. And candles, and sparkly lights. In flagrant disregard for the Chessire Cat's excellent advice, I have begun at the ending; now let me return to the beginning which is, once again, that the Solstice is depressing. Others have already brought up Seasonal Affective Disorder; that's true, too; we are all influenced by light levels. I've already noticed that Frances is sleeping more now that it gets darker earlier. But mostly, we are tremendously lucky that our modern society and all its conveniences shields us so effectively from what the Winter Solstice really is--especially those of us living in colder climates in northern latitudes. In my undergrad, I did a history project that touched on poverty in Canada. I was shocked to learn (though I shouldn't have been) that not so very long ago, the families of seasonal workers fought for their survival every year, because reliably, in mid-winter, the money needed to purchase firewood would run out. No heat--no cooking. That's a bad thing in a cold climate. And it was considerably less than 100 years ago that this was a constant and consistent feature of winter in even a relatively wealthy country, like Canada. It's hard for us to imagine what December 21 would have meant in northern latitudes for tens of thousands of years of human history: It's just starting to get cold. The worst of it is still before you. Nothing else is growing now; so if the harvest was poor or the coming winter is a long one, people will starve. Living in tents or small homes with thin walls, the only source of heat a central fire, would have been cold cold cold, unremitting and unrelenting for months on end. Every year, winter comes--not as a picturesque friend presenting views of drifting snow or pristine snowbanks or sparkling ice (though it was probably that too), not something to be played with and then safely kept outside beyond insulated walls and double-paned glass, but as an enemy. Something that could kill you. We admire those lovely historical scenes of cottages adrift in snow, smoke puffing from the chimney, a candle shining in the window--without spending much time, I think, to imagine what it really would have been like. This past weekend I read Dickens' Christmas Books (yes, all of them, except for A Christmas Carol which I save for the 24th) and in one of them was a poor character who observed that oftentimes the rich ladies would come to paint or draw the cottage he grew up in, admiring its look, but not understanding what it was like to live there with the wind howling through chinks in the wall, with the meager stores of food in the cellar running low, with melting snow dripping through the thatch. If facing winter is still hard, today, when we are sheltered from so much of it, think of how hard it must have been even a few decades ago, when it couldn't be kept out, and when so many people were poor and survived on whatever they managed to put by when the weather was good. And then imagine how much worse it must have been, before calendars. Before time measurement. For thousands of years of human history, when there was no December; when the days kept getting shorter and the nights longer and everything colder and nothing grew and the food was stored up in baskets and under ground for the winter, and all waited with baited breath for the first day that was longer than the one before--for the solstice, or the day after. Winter might be only starting, but thank the gods, you already knew that it would have an ending again. Spring and summer would come again. You still had to get through it, but if you did, it would be warm and bright again. What a moment of psychological release that must have been, every year, and the farther north you lived, the more so. But how do you celebrate the end of winter when it's just beginning? How do you symbolize the sun and growing things, when the sun is gone and the growing things have gone to sleep? With evergreens, holly and mistletoe, candles and bonfires. Which brings me back round again to Abbey's song, Oh Christmas Tree, which is a celebration of how this tree's branches stay green all year: O Christmas Tree
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, It's amazing to me that these symbols have survived thousands of years. And, while evergreens are a varying symbol, light--candles, bonfires, and nowadays LED icicle strands--seems as constant as a symbol can be, cross-culturally, as perusing these lists of hemispheric solstice celebrations will show. I find it rather upsetting, in this context, to see constant "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" stickers, signs, and so forth; it is completely inaccurate. The Winter Solstice as a light festival is as nearly universal as a festival can be; and while Jesus is a big part of the reason for a lot of people, he's got nothing to do with decorated pine trees and drinking eggnog. It also upsets me to hear people say that they don't celebrate it because they're "not religious"--when religion has about as much to do with the Winter Solstice as it has to do with the evolution of Kentucky bluegrass. I think it is more likely a disconnect from nature--we don't have to be affected by winter anymore; the cycle of seasons can be meaningless to us when we never step outside; and the eventual return of spring doesn't have to be a cause for celebration when a 24/7 supermarket down the street sells apples and mangoes from halfway around the world in the middle of February. Not that these are bad things; far from it. I'm all in favour of progress when it reduces human misery, as central heating and thinsulate demonstrably do. But if we were as connected to nature as we used to be, the Winter Solstice would still be a really big fucking deal, and the further from the equator you lived, the bigger a deal it would be. It seems odd to say that the celebration of the Winter Solstice and its associated holidays is falling somewhat out of favour these days because people are too happy, but it's true: The Winter Solstice is about cold, hunger, uncertainty and darkness--in short, it's about depression--and the ending of these things; but if you never experience cold, hunger, uncertainty and darkness, why should you celebrate its ending? Posted by Andrea at 10:44 AM | Comments (1) December 4, 2005 How to Put Up an Artificial Tree with a Toddler and a Bad Cold
1. Lay in a supply of kleenex, tea, cold medicine.
2. Get your husband to bring up the box with the tree in it. 3. Look for the lights. Curse. Find the outdoor lights. Curse. Find some old blinky multi-coloured lights. Curse. Find the indoor lights. Bring them upstairs. Plug them in. They work! 4. Untangle them, since you didn't put them away properly last year. Sneeze. Cough. Get a kleenex. 5. Assemble the stand with bits of felt underneath to protect the floor, and put in the centre "trunk" pole. Begin stringing the lights thusly: put in one layer of branches, and wrap lights around the pole just above them; put in the next layer of branches, and string lights around the pole above them to; and so on, all the way up to the top. Take frequent sitting breaks. 6. Start wrapping the lights back down, a few inches out from the pole. Rest after each string. Sneeze. Take a cold pill. Make a tea. 7. Repeat, until the lights run out. Notice that you have once again run out of lights with the bottom branches looking a little sparse. Oh well. Onwards!
8. Fluff the branches. Apply ointment to one's fingernails and cuticles. Finish tea.
9. String garlands. Cough. Open a new box of kleenex.
10. Put tree skirt over the stand, and slide the whole thing back in towards the wall. 11. Bring up a box of ornaments. Begin by putting the most plain ones in towards the centre and the back. When your toddler picks one of them up, praise her for trying to help, then move the box out of her reach. Politely request that your husband keep her occupied elsewhere. Sneeze. Cough. Sit down. 12. Go downstairs to get a few more boxes of ornaments. Heave yourself upstairs. Cough. Have another cup of tea. Put the ornaments on the tree. Sit down. Pant. Go downstairs to get a few more boxes of ornaments. Heave yourself upstairs. Cough. Have another cup of tea. Put the ornaments on the tree. Sit down. Pant. 13. When all of the regular, every-day ornaments have been hung, carefully unpack the handmade ornaments. Hang them in prominent spots on the outside.
14. Hang the handmade unbreakables towards the bottom.
Congratulations! It's beautiful.
Now go to bed. Posted by Andrea at 9:33 AM | Comments (14) December 3, 2005 Andrea's Big Solstice Theory Part I: It's depressing
Those who know me well in real life or on-line have been treated now several times to my exhaustive and repetitive treatises on What The Solstice Season Means. So I won't repeat it this year, but instead, drop it out by little hints for a few weeks. And Mimilou has inspired me to begin with Rudolph today, though I fear she did not at all intend to do so: Rudolph. He is born a freak, shunned by all for his difference, lives a brutal life, is cast out by his community, and just when all seems most desperate and that he must be lost--it is determined that he is useful after all, and maybe his freakish deformity will actually come to some good. In fact, his freakish deformity saves a whole island of toys with freakish deformities of their own. It is undoubtedly a harsh story, much like many fairy-tales of old; and these days, we are given to shielding our children from these things. But I think it would be a mistake to assume that they don't already know them. It is a harsh story, but a true one; people with physical differences are cast out by their communities. They do live harder lives than the norm. For example, dwarf adults earn less on average than their normal-height siblings, adjusted for educational attainment and so on. This is a hard world for anyone who is different. It might be getting better, but it's still hard. But this is not to the point: Rudolph is a very Solstice story. Rudolph is, in fact, the essence of the Solstice; if there were no dark, no despair, it would never be told in this season. Likewise if he were then acclaimed for no particular purpose. It would not be a Solstice story if he were saved for his own sake, instead of his ability to perform some good. What is the Solstice, after all? It is not the end of winter, or the beginning of summer. It is the day things stop getting darker. If one were to use the analogy of an illness, it is not the day one is cured, or the day one is finally able to sit in a chair by the fire, but the day when one's temperature stops rising and one no longer wakes each day feeling worse than the day before. ~~~~~ And now it's my turn to be blasphemous: It's a fairly well-accepted fact that Jesus was not born in December. If he were, the shepherds would not be out watching their flocks by night, but shuddering around a fire with their hands wrapped around whatever hot drink they could muster. What I've seen indicates his actual birthdate was probably in September, since that's when the Roman census (which is what brought them to Bethlehem, you'll recall) was held. The pagan religions were dominant at the time (ah, karma) and so it was only natural for the celebration of the birth to be moved to some day when it would be less conspicuous, so as to mitigate the possibility of being tossed to the lions. But why the Winter Solstice? I think it's because the symbolism matches so perfectly: It's not the day when everything is finally better (that would be Easter, after all). It's not a day of triumph. It's the day when things stop getting worse. The birth of Jesus is another harsh story: A young unmarried woman finds herself pregnant, and is almost cast aside by her fiance. He decides to marry her after all, but then they are forced to go to a far away city for a census, only they don't arrive in time to get a room and Mary is forced to give birth in a barn. The birth is marked as quite a special occasion, to be sure, but it is itself not the end of the story. And the celebration around his birth has absolutely nothing to do with what a fine fellow he is, or that it's ok to be born in a barn, or that Joseph wouldn't have been perfectly in his right to toss her aside--the celebration is because of the purpose he will serve. He's here to save us, although we don't deserve it. Much like Rudolph, actually. ~~~~~ We Three Kings is actually five verses long. Did you know that? Sadly, I know it by heart; I think it's very paganny: We three kings of Orient are
bearing gifts, we traverse afar.
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
following yonder star.
Born a king on Bethlehem's plain. Myrrh is mine; it's bitter perfume Frankincense to offer have I. Glorious now, behold him arise: Star of wonder, star of night, It's not a cheerful song, is it? Gathering gloom, dying, locked in a tomb, offered up as a sacrifice--and all foretold in the future; the time of the song is simply the beginning of the story. Even "Joy to the World" is not a completely happy song. No more let sins and sorrows grow,
nor thorns infest the ground:
he comes to make his blessings flow
far as the curse is found.
~~~~~ And what about the Grinch? Another outcast, another person living a harsh life, who decides to take revenge on the community and even manages to successfully do it. He steals everything. What causes him to repent is the simple realization that good, or Christmas, or the Solstice, however you want to phrase it, is going to happen despite all the ill he has caused: or to be obnoxiously metaphorical about it, that he can't stop the light from coming back. And what does he do? Does he beg forgiveness? Does he go to jail? Does he need to do community service? No. All he does is bring back what he took. The happy ending is that things go back to the way they were. The happy ending is no improvement at all on the sad beginning, in fact, except that the Grinch is in a better frame of mind and we all have reaffirmed for us again that nothing we do or don't do and nothing that someone else does or doesn't do will stop the light from coming back. You know, considering the content of the story, it's a bit surprising it's so popular: It wouldn't work at any other season for any other holiday. It would be weird and a bit depressing. But then the Solstice itself is a bit depressing: It's the start of winter. Posted by Andrea at 9:03 PM | Comments (7) December 1, 2005 It's December 1st, Heaven Help You
"What are you talking about, Andrea?"
Dec. 1 is the day I officially allow myself to start going Christmas Crazy. What, you thought it was bad before? Ha! A ha ha ha ha ha ha! HA ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! No. That was me being restrained. Just wait. You know what is really amusing me right now: All of the Holiday Bloggers are showing up, doubtless hoping that the Big Draw was posted early, and leaving comments. Hello! I'm not even going to tell you when it's going up; that way you'll keep coming back to check. Hee hee. Anyway, back to the Christmas Craziness: I have so much left to do, and only twenty-four days to do it in! See?
And in those 24 days, I have to: 1. Make cards. 2. Decorate gift bags. 3. Wrap presents. 4. Put up tree (this Saturday!) 5. Put up other decorations, including lights, stocking hangers and holiday knickknacks. 6. Keep holiday plants from dying until Jan 1. 7. Bake. Scottish shortbread (brown sugar), sugar cookies (decorated, of course), gingerbread, holiday blossoms, cheesecake brownie bars, super-easy chocolate bar cookies (the actual name, and it doesn't lie), peanut butter balls, truffles, and gingersnaps. And this is the minimum--the "it won't be christmas to me if I don't bake this" list. This must be done relatively soon because # 11 depends to some extent on this item. 8. Plan holiday dinner. 9. Finish new christmas decorations--the ones I am making. 10. Put together gift for Secret Spoilee. 11. Package and ship all gifts that have a final destination outside of my normal environs. 12. Order Frances's big gift from Toys R Us online, since they don't have it in the store and who wants to go to the store this time of year anyway? 13. Attend a birthday party this weekend. 14. Attend a party on the 18th. 15. Plan and execute Frances's second birthday party. She turns two in three weeks. . . . . . . . . . Whew. I think I blacked out there. Where was I? Oh, yes, my baby is growing up. I'll pretend she is turning one so that I can return to my list. 16. Make Daisy Bread, a lovely, sweet, fairly complicated sweet bread with yeast and everything, which is my family's traditional Christmas morning breakfast. 17. Do any remaining Christmas shopping. Thank goodness I'm almost done, but my Mom's b/day is the 31st and I don't have anything for that yet. 18. Teach Frances how to sing basic holiday songs, and watch movies together. 19. Take a minimum of 500 photographs of Frances in every conceivable pose around anything remotely connected to christmas--fireplace, tree, presents, stocking, snow, snowpeople, dancing to holiday music, "helping" with baking, and so on. 20. Read a Christmas Carol, which I do every year on Christmas Eve. Set out cookies and eggnog for Santa, and try to come up with a plausible explanation for how he would get through the direct vent of the natural gas fireplace. 21. Do the Big Draw for the Winter Holiday of Your Choice Blog Extravaganza Gift Exchange ... tonight! ~~~~~ I can hardly wait. I'm so excited. Christmas growing up in my family was rarely peaceful--my Dad and I had an annual fight Christmas afternoon without fail, and usually a bad one; and some of my relatives passed away near the day--but somehow it never extinguished the specialness of Christmas for me. I feel very lucky for this. I get to spend at least one month, and up to three, every year, giddy and happy and excited. And it has nothing to do with the presents, at least, not the ones for me--Erik and I just get each other stocking stuffers and usually implement a spending maximum to prevent a Gift Arms Race (which happened the first few years). Buying gifts for other people is fun, but I typically don't spend a lot--I honestly prefer to make them, as crazy as that probably seems. It takes a lot of time and a bit of effort, but it's fun for me. Honestly the gift-making and card-making and baking is most of the holiday fun for me. If you plop me on the couch with a bit of holiday embroidery in hand, a holiday song on the stereo or a holiday show on tv, some holiday baking in the oven, and a little person tearing around a christmas tree with all the lights on and the fireplace blazing--neither a million dollars nor any form of success could make me any happier. It's that good. I think some of the anti-Christmas/anti-holiday folks think that those of us who really love it are putting on some kind of show and going through a commercial, consumerist ritual that we know is hollow but feel compelled to participate in anyway. I just want to say--it ain't so. You could pass a law forbidding the spending of money from November 15 to December 31 (excepting groceries and necessities) and close down every shopping mall for the last two weeks of the year entirely, and I would have at least as much fun as I do now. Posted by Andrea at 1:10 PM | Comments (11) November 16, 2005 Questionnaire Thingie
Here is my completed survey for the Gifty Thing:
Please Note: In case you find this a bit intimidating--this is basically a meme. The idea is to give someone some hints about the kinds of things you like so that your gifter can choose something you will enjoy. It's not a shopping list--the idea isn't to get something to fit in *every* category, or for *every* question--it's brainstorming. And of course you can come up with your own category/theme for your giftee. A holiday song might be nice, or a winter-themed story or movie. Gift/Category Suggestions Something old - Something New (If you'd like to suggest or add another category, let us know so everyone else has a chance to choose items representing it too.) Or, perhaps the entire collection can form a theme :
If I could get away with it, I'd steal a well-stocked library, because damn it, it should be mine. I sometimes buy Christmas baking magazines, because I lust after goodies that look too good to eat. If you came over to my house to play and broke my glow-in-the-dark crayons, I'd be a little bit mad at you forever. The colour [blank] should only be used in fungal remedy packaging or if human waste were to be redesigned. Really, I like all colours, as long as they're bright The colour [see above] makes my heart feel like it is full of happy kittens frolicking in a sunny, grassy meadow. Coffee makes me break out in gooberous pustules (or else I just don't like it, but I'm too nice to say it.) I might get sick or die if I touch or ingest coffee (I really, really don't like it), or look at standard-issue parenting magazines. gives me the heebie jeebies and I might need to seek therapy if I even think about it further. I love the feel of velvet so much I have a primitive urge to stick some down my pants. [Well, maybe not that much.] No one should have to watch me eat cookie dough (gross, but true), because really If I were eating some in private, I'd be quite a pig about it. I would rather chew tinfoil and shave my head with a cheese grater than eat raw vegetables (sadly for my health). I DO/DON’T follow recipes because I'm anal that way, although once I know it fairly well I will deviate. I actually have several cookie recipes memorized, that's how often I bake them. For Marla, "White Shoulders" perfume will always smell like her laid-out dead grandmother. I feel that way about scented just-about-anything. NOt a fan of artificial scents. If I could, I'd perfume my own farts and those of my loved ones with the scent of nothing. Magical scentless everything. I have TOO MANY/TOO MUCH OF makeup, especially considering I never wear it, and not enough uh...from a global wealth perspective, I probably have too much everything--but the one thing I always seem to convince myself I need more of is craft supplies. Gadgets are for everyone! When people have kind, sweet and nice things about me, they're usually talking about Frances. I can't be upset if people dis me about being a tad too argumentative, because it's true. If I could have any talent in the world, I'd choose persuasion and use it to organize society to my wishes from behind the scenes (how Machavellian!). You are given an hour and twenty dollars to spend in one of these places, childfree. Choose one, or write your own: A flea market, where you might find neat treasures and still have enough left over for some home made baked goods from that nice granny's table. A picturesque pub, where a couple of great drinks and a nice tip might lead to some interesting conversations. A craft show, because you really need to find a few more things made from twigs and yarn. Or glass or beads or fabric or anything. If someone has made something by hand, it's fascinating to me. A gourmet food store, because food for the tummy is food for the soul. A fancy and expensive boutique, because you'd rather have one lipstick from a great place than ten lipsticks from a dollar store. Wherever! Whatever! Just give the twenty dollars to whomever's caring for the offspring so you can have more time to yourself!
It is important to me that the items chosen for me are pink! Just kidding. Anything is fine. (And please, no pink.) And If I could suggest that you read only one post from my archives, this would be it: The Story So Far. And If I were to name the Holiday of my choice for this exchange, it would be: Yule. But Christmas is ok too. So is "happy holidays." If it's winter-themed and involves decorated trees, pretty cookies, sparkly lights and presents I am all over it. (Please feel free to make one up - but this is your chance to say "Um, I'm Jewish but that doesn't mean give me dreidels!" or "More Santa decorations please - I only have thirty-seven now." or "Winter and gifts yes; religious denominations, no - if only all cards could be like those politically correct corporate holiday wishes!" if you want to.) Posted by Andrea at 12:37 PM | Comments (0) November 10, 2005 The Winter Holiday of Your Choice Blog Bonanza is Here
I said I would, and dammit, I will! Kindly, Marla has volunteered to help with a possible goodie exchange. She has some fabulous ideas, I think; for those of you who want to participate, some feedback is required.
The Gifty Part 1. Tell me you want in by leaving a comment here. This is so that everyone who is participating gets a chance to "meet" all the other participants. Then post this message on your own blog or trackback here so we can hook as many fish as we can. 2. Send me your snail mail addy. I promise I am not a creepy internet weirdo who will use this info to stalk you or sell it to marketing firms. Frances will do a Big Draw to pair people up (I'll take photos of her picking the names, if I can). I will then email people to give them the name and address of their giftee. 3. Fill out the handy-dandy Gift Questionnaire, which Marla said she will be putting together over the next few days. The responses to the questionnaire should be easily accessible. Post them on your blog or LJ. 4. When you have the name of your giftee and their answers to the Gift Questionnaire, it is time to start putting together a little package of gifts. We are thinking a shoebox sized ensemble of small and inexpensive items. This is not about the money; it's about having some fun and putting a bit of thought into it. A comfortable pre-shipping gift max would be $25 (if you think that's too much or too little, let us know; nothing is set in stone yet). 5. As you purchase or make the items, take photos that you can post on your blog in January, after the gift has been received. When you post about the items, include a bit about how and why they were chosen, including how they met the answers of the Gift Questionnaire and the other guidelines (eg. something salty, something soft, something naughty, something nice--these are yet to be determined, but you get the idea.) 6. When you receive your gift, take some photos of the items in their new home--being used or displayed, and post that on your blog. As Marla says: "The recipient should take a picture after receiving them, but it shouldn't be just a typical "opening the present shot". It should be something from the box in its new home, or in use, or being enjoyed. Even if it's a picture of someone's ass after eating some candy from the box." Ah, the possibilities. We're hoping to get the final version of this posted within a week and participants signed up by the 26th of November, targeting a shipping date of December 15. Gift Day would be New Year's Day, since that's a Winter Holiday we all have in common. Thoughts? Suggestions? Criticisms? Volunteer Gifters? OK. That takes care of the Gifty Part (for now). On to the Crafty Part:
I'm going to post photos of the christmas projects I have planned for this year (gifts, decorations, cards etc.) as well as any decorating that doesn't look too atrocious, and anyone who's interested can do the same. I've set up the Winter Holiday of Your Choice Blog Extravaganza! as a blog ring, linked to from the category archive page (link on the right). Anyone who's new and interested, feel free to sign up. If you have the ability to set up a new Winter Holiday category on your blog or LJ, I would do that and link that page/those pages to the blog ring, if you can. If you can't, just sign up the whole site. Then, just blog about your preparations for the Winter Holiday of Your Choice--crafting, cooking, baking, decorating, service attending, donating, whatever you can think of. And let the festivities begin! Posted by Andrea at 7:32 AM | Comments (21) |
Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "In this world, there is nothing softer or thinner than water. But to compel the hard and unyielding, it has no equal. That the weak overcomes the strong, that the hard gives way to the gentle -- this everyone knows. Yet no one acts accordingly." Lao Tse Email Frances! frances AT athenadreaming DOT org You can email her mother too (that's me):
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The title of this blog was taken from the short story "The Language of Nna Mmoy" by Ursula le Guin in her collection, Changing Planes. I won't tell you why or how, because I want you to read the story and figure it out for yourself.
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