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Well, that's better
Dec. 25th, 2002 12:32 pmA happy celebration to you who celebrate, however you do it; and my hearty wishes to those who do not that you managed to avoid whatever manifestations of the season annoy you most.
Yesterday was much too hectic. I got up late, having had a weird bout of insomnia. I could not get myself moving. I'd meant to make the vegetable dishes for Christmas dinner in the afternoon, but all I actually managed to do was get myself medicated and washed and dressed, and run over to attend to Mr. Toliman, Eric's cat. He was out of food, so it's a good thing I went when I did. I gave him extra, since I won't get over there today until the evening. He was extremely sleepy and rather puzzled. Afternoon is not the time for humans to come bursting in and try to play with him. It's the time for sleeping. He purred a lot, though.
I got home, David informed me, thirteen seconds early for our agreed setting-out time. I went upstairs to say hello to Raphael before leaving, and discovered a message from Eric on my answering machine. I was delighted and disappointed all at once. Mostly delighted. I had been afraid it was from the towing company, not following instructions to call my cell phone. I went back downstairs and proceeded to have a minor meltdown (of the "I can't do this, let's just not have any Christmas this year) that David was very nice about, and we went off to my mother's house. My mother cannot eat a turkey if she has prepared the big dead bird herself, so when she hosts holiday dinners David does the turkey. She had made a 140-mile trip to get a kindly-raised hormone-free bird and was very smug about it, as she should be.
My brother was home from work early, so we sat around for a little eating nuts and hummos and crackers and watching the cat be cute. Then we roasted the chestnuts, after a bit of trouble finding the recipe in the old JOY OF COOKING. JoC says to prick the chestnuts with a fork and says nothing about greasing them, but we all know, though whence we know not, that one really must cut a cross on the flat side of each chestnut and then grease them thoroughly before roasting them in the oven.
We have had some bad batches of chestnuts in our time, but these were big plump ones, not a moldy one in the batch, and most of them were fairly meek about giving up their outer shells. Only a few were uncooperative about letting the inner skin go. We've had bleeding fingers from a bad batch of chestnuts, but not this year.
My brother had stopped on his way home and gotten a couple of pizzas from a place that makes them and sells them unbaked so you can take them home and bake them yourself. He'd got one with vegetables and no cheese; my mom put soy Parmesan on that one and we split it, while David and Matt ate the other, which had pepperoni on it. They were amazingly good.
After that David made a batch of vegan stuffing, which I finished off by making vegetable broth to pour over it, and then a batch of real stuffing (with butter). (The chestnuts go in the stuffing.) After a rest and an extended consultation about when we wanted to put the bird in -- we cook it at a low temperature overnight, which saves a lot of time and anguish on the day of dinner -- he got it out of the refrigerator. There was a small time of concern because it was crunchy with ice crystals, but it actually was mostly thawed. David amused himself slightly by reporting in detail the process of getting all the packaged organs out of the cavity.
He stuffed it and tied it up and put it into the oven. Then everybody else had a drink (alcohol, I mean) and I had some fresh orange juice. My medication and alcohol don't agree very well.
My brother, who does a lot of travelling in pursuit of his employment, which is installing alternate energy technology, told us that, after having gone way up north where one was supposed to be able to see black-backed woodpeckers and not seeing any, he had seen one in Staples, which is north if you are in Minneapolis, but really about mid-state. He said it looked like a crow until it turned in profile. Wow.
David and I got home around 9:30. I had another message from Eric, bless him, so I called him at his dad's, but they were eating dinner. So I said hello to Raphael and we watched an episode of BUFFY. Eric called back and we had a short pleasing conversation. Then I got into a flurry of vegetable cooking, and the washing of bedding for the guest room. David's mother doesn't drive after dark any more, and my mother's guest room is occupied by my brother at the moment, so David's mother is staying with us Christmas night and driving home in the morning. David and Lydy did most of the cleaning, but I said I'd do the bedding. I was much put out to discover that my grandmother's handmade twin-bed quilts, which I had fondly imagined as being neatly put away in little bags with lavender in, were both dusty and covered with cat hair. I washed one, and did get it onto the bed this morning, where it transformed our shabby furniture and looming pile of electronics quite amazingly.
I was still wrapping presents at four a.m., so it's really just as well I didn't buy nearly so many as usual.
Must go make coffee and shower. Happy whatever.
Pamela
Yesterday was much too hectic. I got up late, having had a weird bout of insomnia. I could not get myself moving. I'd meant to make the vegetable dishes for Christmas dinner in the afternoon, but all I actually managed to do was get myself medicated and washed and dressed, and run over to attend to Mr. Toliman, Eric's cat. He was out of food, so it's a good thing I went when I did. I gave him extra, since I won't get over there today until the evening. He was extremely sleepy and rather puzzled. Afternoon is not the time for humans to come bursting in and try to play with him. It's the time for sleeping. He purred a lot, though.
I got home, David informed me, thirteen seconds early for our agreed setting-out time. I went upstairs to say hello to Raphael before leaving, and discovered a message from Eric on my answering machine. I was delighted and disappointed all at once. Mostly delighted. I had been afraid it was from the towing company, not following instructions to call my cell phone. I went back downstairs and proceeded to have a minor meltdown (of the "I can't do this, let's just not have any Christmas this year) that David was very nice about, and we went off to my mother's house. My mother cannot eat a turkey if she has prepared the big dead bird herself, so when she hosts holiday dinners David does the turkey. She had made a 140-mile trip to get a kindly-raised hormone-free bird and was very smug about it, as she should be.
My brother was home from work early, so we sat around for a little eating nuts and hummos and crackers and watching the cat be cute. Then we roasted the chestnuts, after a bit of trouble finding the recipe in the old JOY OF COOKING. JoC says to prick the chestnuts with a fork and says nothing about greasing them, but we all know, though whence we know not, that one really must cut a cross on the flat side of each chestnut and then grease them thoroughly before roasting them in the oven.
We have had some bad batches of chestnuts in our time, but these were big plump ones, not a moldy one in the batch, and most of them were fairly meek about giving up their outer shells. Only a few were uncooperative about letting the inner skin go. We've had bleeding fingers from a bad batch of chestnuts, but not this year.
My brother had stopped on his way home and gotten a couple of pizzas from a place that makes them and sells them unbaked so you can take them home and bake them yourself. He'd got one with vegetables and no cheese; my mom put soy Parmesan on that one and we split it, while David and Matt ate the other, which had pepperoni on it. They were amazingly good.
After that David made a batch of vegan stuffing, which I finished off by making vegetable broth to pour over it, and then a batch of real stuffing (with butter). (The chestnuts go in the stuffing.) After a rest and an extended consultation about when we wanted to put the bird in -- we cook it at a low temperature overnight, which saves a lot of time and anguish on the day of dinner -- he got it out of the refrigerator. There was a small time of concern because it was crunchy with ice crystals, but it actually was mostly thawed. David amused himself slightly by reporting in detail the process of getting all the packaged organs out of the cavity.
He stuffed it and tied it up and put it into the oven. Then everybody else had a drink (alcohol, I mean) and I had some fresh orange juice. My medication and alcohol don't agree very well.
My brother, who does a lot of travelling in pursuit of his employment, which is installing alternate energy technology, told us that, after having gone way up north where one was supposed to be able to see black-backed woodpeckers and not seeing any, he had seen one in Staples, which is north if you are in Minneapolis, but really about mid-state. He said it looked like a crow until it turned in profile. Wow.
David and I got home around 9:30. I had another message from Eric, bless him, so I called him at his dad's, but they were eating dinner. So I said hello to Raphael and we watched an episode of BUFFY. Eric called back and we had a short pleasing conversation. Then I got into a flurry of vegetable cooking, and the washing of bedding for the guest room. David's mother doesn't drive after dark any more, and my mother's guest room is occupied by my brother at the moment, so David's mother is staying with us Christmas night and driving home in the morning. David and Lydy did most of the cleaning, but I said I'd do the bedding. I was much put out to discover that my grandmother's handmade twin-bed quilts, which I had fondly imagined as being neatly put away in little bags with lavender in, were both dusty and covered with cat hair. I washed one, and did get it onto the bed this morning, where it transformed our shabby furniture and looming pile of electronics quite amazingly.
I was still wrapping presents at four a.m., so it's really just as well I didn't buy nearly so many as usual.
Must go make coffee and shower. Happy whatever.
Pamela
