Old Christmas Card

There's an old Christmas card

In an old dusty trunk

And it brings back sweet memories

Dear to me...

- Jim Reeves -

I'm not one of those people who starts to celebrate Christmas in November. My mother (who puts her tree up Nov 30, and this year managed to sneak it up a week earlier than that) berates me for it with such ammunition as "Your brother will have his tree up by now," but I happily ignore it all beacause for me it is enough to celebrate Christmas for the whole of December.

My tree goes up around the 6-10 of December, and the decorations inside and out at the same time.

I even prefer to Christmas shop in December, although I do online ordering in November to ensure delivery, and I like to have a list drawn up as completely as possible.

But the one thing Christmassy that I do love to do in November is Christmas Cards. I love the tradition of sending cards to old friends and new. The children and I make some for family as well, and have a great time being creative and witty with them where possible.

I don't do Christmas letters any more, but I do make sure to handwrite a small note in each card, particularly to those people I don't keep in touch with regularly through the year, but who it is nonetheless nice to keep in touch with at Christmas.

My cards are ready to go now. I just have to pop them in the mail. Now it feels like Christmas is around the corner.

Another week or so and I may even let the kids sing Christmas songs!

Below are some of the farm-related cards we've made in past years;

1. This is our bull, Hughie.

2. This is our llama and a couple of sheep.

When Did She Get So Tall?

We were sitting at dinner the other night and Grace asked for some bread and butter.

I'll get it, Anna said.

I've seen them do it a hundred times. We leave a little footstool in the kitchen so that the girls can reach the bottom shelves of the upper cupboards.

(And incidentally so that I can reach the upper shelves of the upper cupboards).

So I was taken aback on glancing over to see her casually reaching into the cupboard for the bread, with both feet planted firmly on the floor.

She's all long legs and spindly arms. When did she get so tall?

I knew Erik was tall. He always has been for his age. But last time I checked Anna could not reach into the cupboard with that kind of natural ease. She is the smaller one. The little one. She even seems little compared to her younger sister who outweighs her despite the difference in their height.

And I looked over at her, confidently dropping a piece of bread and butter on her sister's plate, and launching into a discussion about tasmanian devils with her brother and father. She's not only taller, but maturing too. She wants an I-Pod, and she gets telephone calls for heaven's sake!

Grace, swinging her legs under the table, and poking Erik while smiling at me beatifically is still a little girl. But all of a sudden, Anna has grown up. And I see it with a mingling of pride and sadness.

But then after dinner she comes and snuggles up on my lap for a story, and as I brush the hair out of her eyes I smile. She's still my little girl for now. At least some of the time.

On the fly

At 7:29 on Friday morning, the car wouldn't start. It wasn't even trying to start - barely even a click as I turned the key. And Andrew wasn't around the farm this morning to help me out.

What are we going to do, Mom? asked 7 year old Anna. I glanced down the quarter mile of driveway to that distant point where we meet the school bus. Under normal circumstance (ie: the car starting), I drive the kids down the lane, and see them safely aboard before continuing to work.

Usually we were a minute or two early. Sometimes we got there just as the bus did and piled out of the car in a tangle of children and bookbags.

We had already idled away a good 45 seconds turning the key in a desperate hope that the car would spontaineously burst into life. And if we missed the bus, I would be trying to get the car fixed with kids in tow, instead of packing them safely off to school while I dealt with the problem.

If a driveway is a quarter mile long and it takes three children an average of 15 minutes to walk a mile.....oh never mind. This was no time for calculations.

Run! I shouted. Run!

They were out of the car and down the lane, backpacks slung over their shoulders. I followed but in my black heeled boots was quickly outrun by the three of them as they hurtled down the driveway.

I shouted after them: Have a great day. Don't stop. Good luck on your spelling tests. You're half way there. Keeep Moooving!

And when they reached the apple tree 20 feet from the gate I breathed a sigh of relief. They'd make it now.

Great job, I yelled, though I doubt they could hear me.

I watched the bus arrive. Erik turned and waved - a wave of jubilation, of achievement - as the three of them prepared to get on board.

Then I went inside, put on a pot of coffee, and started to make some phonecalls.

Salmon in Beurre Blanc

The Just Be dinner party

Potatoes
Wrap a head of garlic in foil and pop into a 400 celsius oven, along with medium, scrubbed, baking potatoes. Remove garlic after 40 mins and let cool. Leave potatoes for 20 more minutes or until cooked.

Slice off potato tops and scoop out centres. Squeeze roasted garlic into potato and mash with butter or sour cream, 1/4 c grated cheddar, some dijon, and spoon back into potato shells. Grate cheese on top and bake an additional 15 minutes or until heated through.

Beurre Blanc
Take 1/4 c dry white wine and 1/4 c white wine vinegar. Add finely minced shallots and bring to boil over high heat. Simmer until reduced by half (about 6 minutes). Add 3-4 tbsp whipped cream, and whisk in 4-8 tbsp butter 1tbsp at a time, until smooth and velvety. (Do not let boil - it should be the consistency of a creamy hollandaisse sauce.). Add a couple of drops of fresh lemon juice and salt and pepper to taste.

Salmon
Season salmon fillets if desired. Poach in white wine and garlic until flaky. (I like to poach and then crisp the outside in a fry pan).

Serve salmon with beurre blanc, vegetable of choice, and potato.

Be - Part II

Just Be. That was my mandate.

What does that mean to you?

To me, in the two hours I had, it meant this.

Cooking. I love being in the kitchen, chopping and sauteing, reducing and creating. Not the daily grind kind of cooking, but the truly creative kind that turns out a sublime meal.

Reading. No brainer. I just returned a half dozen books to the library that I had renewed once but somehow still never had time to read. Shameful. I was going to read something in my two hours.

Silence. This, after all, was the point. To take away some of the noise that surrounds me 24/7.

Music. This is not as contradictory as it sounds. After the silence, music. It's good for the soul. But my music. Not anyone elses tonight.

There were lots of other things I could have picked. Writing. A bath. Walking the dog. Playing my guitar. But I did only have 2 hours.

So wrapped in my plaid, the dog and I sat outside in the crisp silence of a velvet night and looked up at the stars. Then I got out salmon and various other ingredients, put on some music (Rita MacNeil), and did some prep cooking like wrapping a head of garlic in foil and popping it in the oven with the potatoes.

Now I had 40 minutes to do whatever I wanted. I took a glass of chablis and my December Canadian Living magazine that has just arrived into the living room and read until the timer went off.

Then it was back to finish the salmon and stuff the potatoes, and whip up a decadent beurre blanc sauce, finishing off just as the headlights of the van flashed into the driveway at 8pm.

Once the kids were in bed, Andrew and I sat down to a candlelit dinner.

I felt restored. The power of being able to just be.

Be - Part I

I had a moment in work the other day where I suddenly got overwhelmed. Not just by work, which is exceptionally busy right now. But also with Christmas coming, commitments I have made, plans I have yet to finalize. I got up, got water, stretched, and was able to regroup very quickly. But that night I didn't sleep all that well.

And so Andrew (being an attentive sort of husband) decreed that I needed a night off. Not just off, but alone. Because I realised that one thing I never get is alone time. From the time Lady (the dog) sticks her cold wet nose into my back at 0615, quickly followed by two Pajama clad little girls who tumble into bed for morning snuggles before the news means it's time to get up, to the day at work interacting and meeting and socializing at lunch, to coming home to the multi-tasking hour of dinner, homework, kitchen tidying, and getting ready for whatever activity is scheduled that night, to making lunches, and getting to bed at a reasonable hour....well, there isn't much opportunity to be by myself.

Not that I want to be by myself. I love the craziness of family life madly and wouldn't ever give it up. But my husband is perceptive enough to see that sometimes a night alone is just what the doctor ordered.

In this case, a whole night was impossible.

But, said Andrew, I will take the girls to Beavers on Thursday night, and Erik can come with me. We'll go to the library. That will give you almost 2 hours by yourself.

There were some rules. I was not allowed to do housework. Or catch up on phone calls. Or organize anything.

Just Be. In the moment.

Doing whatever it was that made me happy.

Just Be.

All Creatures Great & Small

When I was very young, we sang this hymn in school. When I was about 1o, I was given an audio tape of the James Herriot books, and must have listened to them a hundred times or more. After that I read the books, and still read the books on a very regular basis. And now, Andrew and I have got ourselves the TV series on DVD and are enjoying an hour a week in the Yorkshire Dales with James, Siegfried, Tristan, and the animals great (cattle and sheep) and small (dogs and cats).

Before I realised chemistry was not my forte, of course I wanted to be a vet. But life has a funny way of giving us what we desire most and so I find myself not a vet, but with animals that need care. I get to watch the lambs being born, catch and innoculate piglets and sheep, chase cows across a muddy field, laugh at the innumerable amusing moments that happen. and feel helpless when there is nothing else you can do. All Creatures Great...I have them in spades.

And All Creatures Small..?

I noticed last night that I can make my dog's tail wag a mile a minute just by looking at her. When I look away, it stops again. When I glance over, it wags tentatively. When I look right at her ...Wag, wag, waggity, wag.

Nice to be so loved.