Happy Holidays

Christmas Eve and all is well. We are enjoying a quiet afternoon and it is snowing. Ella is downstairs practicing on her balance beam and Paul is up to something in the kitchen. A few nights ago, we had family over and he made a rich, traditional lasagna with home made pasta and crema voltiada (Peruvian flan) for desert.

Actually, the flan was made for a cultural celebration at El’s school, but since school was cancelled on Friday, so was the celebration. It rained all day (at least at our house) and we never got the huge storm people were panicking about--though my brother, who lives a few miles north and up on a hill, had a drifted-over driveway.

Ah, the beauty of micro-climates on the peninsula.

Rain eventually turned to slush and then finally snow overnight, but it never amounted to much here. 5 inches? Draco drama. Why do winter storms now need names? It snowed, that’s all. And the plows came and pushed it off the streets and we scraped off our cars and threw a few more chunks of wood on the fire.

Crema voltiada

Flan, cherry pie, cookies, cosmopolitans, wine we picked up earlier that day during a sampling with Becky Hemmningsen at The Wine Shop at Hansen's, a delicious baguette and a loaf of sea salt fennel bread from our friends at 9 Bean Rows, venison sausage from the U.P., a variety of cheeses, and a growler of hard cider from Tandem Ciders ... plus the lasagna and salad. Heaven. I always appreciate meals like this one shared with friends and family.

Paul's nephews waiting to roll out fresh pasta for a side dish

After the kitchen was cleaned up and the kids ripped open presents and Skyped with their grandparents, we bundled up and headed outside for a few rounds of flashlight tag. It was a beautiful night: no wind, just the sound of giggles and small boots crunching in the snow.

Observations

It is the 18th of December in Northern Michigan and there are buds, some starting to open, on the lilac tree next to the deck. Our Star Magnolia has buds, too, and just might burst into a display of snow white flowers if this mild weather continues. So many plants are brandishing new growth--lavender, sage, thyme. I can't help but wonder how they will do come spring.

As I poked around the garden this morning, I saw open flowers on the scabiosa and gaillardia, and the California poppy will likely bloom today. Our lawn--what little we keep mowed--is greener, more lush, than it has been the last half of summer. For such a grey time of year, there is vibrant color if one looks closely.

It is a time of limbo--waiting for the snow to come (and inevitably go again) and waiting for the coming and going of the holidays. I page through my favorite seed catalogs to keep myself grounded when the world out there seems punch-drunk, out to lunch and addled. On days like today, when the smell of damp, rich earth overpowers the aroma of the cup of coffee I cradle in my hands, I want to do something physical. I want to dig around the ground, move stones and soil and pull out weeds, but I am held back by my aversion to cold, muddy knees and numb fingers.

So I cozy up in my little office with Blue and Sky (our parakeets) and chip away at a few writing projects. Paul has been digging into our next new culinary adventure. We are anxious and excited, and when it happens--when it moves from existing as an idea being tossed around and articulated by a group of friends into reality--it is going to be just right, Goldilocks.