Snow?? Oh my goodness did it ever snow last Saturday. The snow started to fall on Friday and didn’t stop until Saturday night. Despite that fact, when little girls are invited to a birthday party, a Daddy will do almost anything to get them there – even during a blizzard!! It
was a long slow drive to Hannah’s house, but with Daddy at the helm we made it safe and sound. There was a good 8 inches of light fluffy snow on the ground when we arrived and to our surprise all but three of the partygoers had showed up with ice cream cake on their minds!! (Little girls are serious these days when it comes to birthday parties.) While the girls played games and listened to music I was happy to help Deborah (Hannah’s Mommy) with whatever there was to be done. Since the pizza parlor was going to take
take longer than eight little appetites could wait, Erik and Jeff (Hannah’s Daddy) decided to venture out and pick them up!! Hmm, is this a modern day version of the men going out into the wilderness and bringing down “the game” for the day’s meal?? Nah…I didn’t think so either.
While the men were gone, the little girls bundled up with
coats, snow pants, hats, scarves and mittens (you get the idea) and off they went into the snow. Now, I can remember playing hard in the snow as a child but I have to admit that I was tired that day just watching them. I could hear the almost muted laughter drifting in from the out of doors and I was reminded of the sweet innocence of childhood. I tried to file that laughter away so that I can share the memory with Cassandra and Rebecca someday.
The end of the day cast deep blue shadows on the snow and outdoors looked magical as if it were a life-sized holiday card lacking only bits of sparkly glitter here and there. Delightful.
Sunday morning brought with it clear skies and the start of a new day. We decided to have breakfast out with the girls. There is a wonderful family restaurant in the area called Grandma’s that specializes in scrumptious breakfast fare and this has become a lovely weekend indulgence for us. Rebecca is almost always predictable for this meal. Her “usual” includes one half of a waffle (no butter please) syrup (on the side) and a bowl of sliced strawberries (no whipped cream). To drink she will get a kid’s cup of one half orange juice and one half sprite. Cassandra will either have French toast (with the butter, thank you very much!!) or home fries. To this she may add bacon or a plump sausage. To drink she’ll have one half cranberry juice and one half sprite.
Rebecca’s job at the end of the meal is to go to the front desk and pay. She can almost reach the counter, and here is where I salute the patience of the staff. I think it shows not only kindness in the way they treat their youngest customers but wisdom
in realizing that they’re also waiting on future customers. It’s not always easy in this day and age to find that. Thank you “Grandma”!!
With full and happy tummies we set out on the next leg of a full and equally happy day. Now, normally I think of myself as levelheaded and sound, feet on the ground and that sort of thing. There are times however that caution must be thrown to the wind (or at least let out for a good airing once in a while). This is where the hill with the snow and Erik’s Flexible
Flyer comes into play. We had promised the girls that the first “real good snow” we would take them sledding. Promise we did, so bundle we did and it was off to the hill behind the school. Cassandra had her own flying saucer while Erik took Rebecca down on his sled. This suited Rebecca just fine because this way she didn’t have to haul anything back up the hill!!
I cheered on the sidelines long enough and asked Cassandra if I could use her saucer. With a look of “Are you sure you know what you’re doing??” she handed over the reins. Now, when you reach a certain age, you remember things that you did as a child with a certain candy coated charm. You know what I mean – slumbering days in the snow (never cold of course), and as you “glided gently” down the hill you would float to a
smooth stop.
Hmm.
Ok, here’s how it really happens.
You get on the saucer. Your knees don’t bend the same way that they did. For a few seconds you sit trying to figure out when exactly this happened.
Next, you find yourself moving backwards and forwards as quickly as you can “trying” to get momentum. Note that this is the same thing that one does when one is stuck in
the snow with a car. Thinking of myself as a car, suddenly I feel like an Edsel. Sigh.
Momentum gained (with the help of a push from Erik), I begin a virtual flight down the hill. Somehow, I remember the snow as softer “in my day”. Despite the fact that my eyes are open, I see nothing as I go down the hill.
Suddenly, and it happened just that way, the saucer did a 180 degree turn and I was zipping down the hill BACKWARDS!!!! Hmm, I don’t recall this happening when I was a kid either. Who changed the rules?? When did this happen?? Shouldn’t this thing I’m riding on come with a warning label??
Now, the stop was the kicker. As quickly as the ride began, it was over. I came, however to a rip roaring halt. There was no floating involved whatsoever. The flyer stopped flying, but I didn’t. In fact, I went off the flyer and did the most perfect backwards somersault that I’ve ever done. Now, considering that I’ve never done a backwards somersault in my life, I was amazed.
Cassandra came running down the hill hollering “Are you all right??” When I assured her that I was fine, she looked at me and said that it was a beautiful somersault. Then, with all the seriousness of a child, she said, “That was really a sight to see.”
Erik, who was at the top of the hill with Rebecca told me that as I got close to the bottom of the hill Rebecca got a fearful look on her face and uttered only three words, “Oh my G-d.”
The hot soup for lunch was truly comfort to the soul. There were no wounds to report – only “sights to see”. Going from the kitchen to the dining room that afternoon I stubbed my toe and it was then that I realized I’d survived my mid-air flight in the snow unscathed.
I think when it comes right down to it, we were all spoiled. I know that I was. My favorite gifts however, were two that we wrapped for Cassandra and Juliet to open at the same time. During our trip to the Bronx Zoo this past summer, I managed to take a perfect picture of the behind of a giraffe. Erik printed them out, and we framed them in little silver frames – one for each of them. The girls opened them and the laughter began instantly. It’s a silly little gift of a shared memory between cousins proving once again that life is sweet.
Dinner consisted of turkey (Ophelia by name) and gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes and steamed broccoli.
that matter when her stocking was hanging right there almost within reach of her!! In the end however, we all managed to wait until the house was full and everyone was settled in.
Erik was Santa Claus, and held court under the tree handing out gifts. The girls vied for the bows and turned them into body art!! I was given the job of photographer. Of course I didn’t get any photos of Mimi or Jess, and although I did manage to get 3 of Nik, I was informed that they were of the back of his head!! Hmm, perhaps I should stick to naming
December 29, 2003
Christmas this year was in a word, delightful. Erik and I and the Sweet Potatoes were hosts for the day and we were joined by Mimi (Erik’s sister) and Robert and Sophie and Juliet as well as Nik (Erik’s brother) and Jess. Gathering with family, and being able to sit and
enjoy one another’s company and the day itself is one of the simple pleasures that G-d would have us sample.
Our day started early, with the preparation of the bird. This year’s turkey was named (yes, you read correctly) “Ophelia”. She was a fine 21.5 lb. specimen of turkeydom. Turkeys, like no other consumable, need naming. It’s been a longstanding tradition of mine, and I make no apologies for it. I had someone ask me if I
While Ophelia basked in the 325 degree glow, the cake was frosted, the dip for the vegetables was prepared and the dishes counted and readied, and the last of the bows placed on the last of the presents. All must be perfect!!
We are, I suppose, the picture of what the world would call a “modern family”. As our website infers in its name “Erik and Shelley – Starting Over”, this is a new relationship for the two of us. If you’re counting the girls it’s a new relationship for the four of us. I can report to you (happily too) that all is well on all fronts, and Erik and I and those wonderful Sweet Potatoes are adjusting just fine. Being the “modern family” that we are, the girls didn’t join us until Christmas morning. I wish you could have seen their faces though when they came bursting through the door (sending Scooter into retreat under the couch!!) spying their stockings filled to the brim, and the tree with the lights on and the presents below. I was so proud of them when instead of running to open gifts; they had to show me what they had brought with them.
Cassandra wanted to see Ophelia, and the bacon. She is a bacon connoisseur to the nth degree!! She was a big help to me in the kitchen on Christmas morning, doing this and that, and ferrying things to the dining room. As with all 9 year olds, she has her “Oh, do I have to??” moments, but all in all she has a willing heart that loves to please.
Rebecca wasn’t sure why she should wait for Aunt Mimi to arrive or anyone else for
found it hard to eat something that I’d named. I may have thought on this for about 4 seconds. Nope, still not a problem. Turkeys are dumb birds, but very tasty on major holidays.
A stuffing consisting of mushroom soup and chopped onions, sliced celery and water chestnuts and ground carrots and cranberries (plus sage and a few other savory spices) fills the inside while bacon covers the outside of the bird to crisp and drizzle flavor all through the turkey whilst cooking away in the oven.
Coffee and cake followed for dessert. Chatter was spread out before, during and after!!
Here I must say a special thank you to Mimi and Jess for all of your help and hard work. It didn’t go unnoticed, and I appreciate you both. Thank you.
Following dinner, we were able, as a family to light the candles on the Menorah and be together for the 7th night of Hanukkah. It was a double celebration for this modern family.
As everyone headed to their own homes, my Erik and I sat quietly on the couch, and talked of the day, and the many blessings that our G-d has afforded us.
As I do each year at this time, my thoughts turn to Christmases past, for the past mingles with the present turning into the sweet memories of tomorrow. Pictures of happy times wander through my mind and like faded snapshots they make me smile at the remembrance.
In a recent letter a very dear friend from Minnesota shared one of her own Christmas memories with me. I was so very touched at what she wrote, I asked her if I could share it with you. The following is a portion of Barbara’s letter.
“When we were newlyweds, with a bouncing baby boy, we lived in Ocean Beach, California just 1 ½ blocks from the Pacific. We felt as if we’d landed on the moon as young men carried surfboards past our apartment on Christmas Day. We longed to return to Iowa’s snowy prairie and to our loved ones. Most of those loved ones are gone now.
I yearn to drive down that drifted country road and pull into the farmyard again. Mom would be at the door to greet us despite being busy in the kitchen. The little farmhouse would be filled with the scents and sounds of Christmas.
Three tables were set end to end to hold the bountiful feast. Farmwomen of that time were judged by how good a cook they were. Men who came to help with the harvest knew that Mrs. Peters was a good cook. So, the tables were laden with a moist 25 lb. turkey, a large crusty, sweet ham, melt in your mouth stuffing, mashed potatoes, 2 kinds of gravy, sweet potatoes, baked beans, sweet corn from the garden, fruit salad, relish trays, hot rolls and for dessert apple, cherry and pumpkin pies.
Weeks in advance Mom made table favors, which she lovingly placed by our plates. I kept those favors and bring them out every year to decorate our house.”
Whether it’s a farmhouse in Iowa, or a little house in the Hudson Valley of New York state, memories are made and then lovingly kept so that they can be enjoyed over and over again.
As these holidays come to a close and we stand on the threshold of a new year may we each hold fast to that which is dear to our hearts, and may we find solace and comfort in the memories which we’ve made this year.
