so it was Christmas, friends edition

For four (five?) years now, we've gathered with some friends and neighbors to celebrate the season and check out each other's holiday decorations. It's a night I look forward to every year. When I looked back at this post last year, I realized that we couldn't host our normal appetizer course because our kitchen was in such a midden. I'll have to show you how it all turned out sometime.

We switched it up again this year, and I made dessert. My heart is full when I think of these friends, so I think I'll let the photos do the talking. Living here is one of the very best parts of my year. Every year.

ice skating morning

Our local mall has opened an ice skating rink for the holiday season, and Callum went with some friends on Friday. Despite several falls, a suspected concussion and some achey muscles, he couldn't wait to get back.

We got there early, before they even opened and unexpectedly met up with some friends. It was a perfect day to be out. Not too cold and sunny, and even watching the Zamboni was a treat.

Another treat was a Zamboni Photo-Op!

The nice man let Neel sit on the Zamboni too!

I was not physically brave as a child, and I appreciate so much that Callum has bravery in spades. He's willing to try anything, and leaps headlong into it, seeking to master the skill.

All three kids were incredibly brave, and the transformation they made in just a couple of hours was remarkable. Not just our kids, but everybody there. Even the ones clutching the wall for dear life eventually made their way around the rink fall-free. An impressive feat on the feet.

After skating, lunch at the boulangerie (la boulangerie!).

Callum double fisted soup. Warming up from the inside out.

guest blogger

Clearly I've been out of the loop for awhile. Neel's been working me like a dog. (That should make Mark happy.) I have been busy. But I also have a ton of photos on my camera that I'm dreading downloading. I do want to see them though. Maybe I'll get to them today.

So instead of me, I'll bring you my friend David and his dinner. He's an amazing cook, and even though I was pretty sure he was making fun of me...just a little... when he sent the email with these pictures, I can't help but share them. Let's try guessing what these dear friends of ours had for dinner. The wine alone looks amazing.

The squash looks delish...I think I'm gonna need the recipe, Dave. Why not come down and deliver it in person? We miss you.

brunch (love)

I think I mentioned last week that we were planning to have some friends over for brunch on Sunday.

I love brunch. What's not to love? The food is good, the drink is good. There is a relaxed ease that doesn't always come at dinner parties. We hosted this time, and any time someone would say, "Please don't go to too much trouble." I'd say, "As soon as I finish flinging out this ballroom wing." But I find the process of setting the table and getting out Neel's mother's lovely dishes so wonderful and meditative. It's nice and easy to get ready for a Sunday of food and friends.

Of course there's always the Bloody Mary too.

Everybody brought a dish to share, and I'm sorry, but I don't have a picture of the pumpkin bread that was such a hit. I got the recipe on epicurious.com if you're at all interested. We had a potato gratin (thanks, Ina!) and a wonderful egg dish along with the most amazing bowl of fresh fruit.

I was initially concerned that I'd overdone it on the bacon and made too much, but as it turned out we managed to plow through that plate quite nicely until there was nothing left but crumbs.

The kids all know each other. Most of them went to school together at one point and haven't seen each other in awhile. It was in the house and out of the house. In the house and back out again. All afternoon. We had a perfect fall day.

Brunch captured their attention for a bit, as did the webcam, which is where they are in these photos. They're good kids. All of them. Where else can you find a group of kids that range from second through seventh grade who can all have fun together? What a delight.

Ultimately, I'm not a very good feminist. (I know, way to jump around, right? Bear with me here.) I had a roommate once in college (isn't that when we're supposed to be all radical?) who chastised me for daydreaming with another girlfriend about the day when we'd be all grown up and at "the beach house" together. Our kids would be playing in the sand, our husbands on the porch drinking beers, and we'd be chatting in the kitchen, making everyone ham (it had to be ham) sandwiches. She saw that as a sign of my supression: me in the kitchen/he on the porch with the beer. I don't know about supression. Sounds pretty nice to me.

And then on Sunday, after the plates were cleared, the kids headed back out to toss the corn hole bags at each other and discuss the newest Harry Potter trailer, while the guys sat around the table sampling Old Smokey. Tracy, Debbie(Cate), and I moved into the kitchen. In between, "Is that your new lipstick?" and "Is it weird that my hip hurts this much?" we did the dishes and got them out of the way. Suddenly Tracy said, "You guys, we're married!" I knew exactly what she meant. Debbie(Cate) chimed in saying that just the other day she'd walked up to her husband in a store saying, "We have two kids." Like, oh my God, we have two kids. How did this happen? Here we are. As women, we know we all love each other. But also, we're married. Our husbands like each other too. They're sitting around the table together! We're grown up! We're all grown up, and here we are having brunch.

I couldn't help thinking back to that conversation, all those years ago. Had I even met Neel yet? It had to be a long time ago. Over twenty years. The men around the table, talking talking. The women in the kitchen, cleaning and talking talking. My old roommate didn't know the wonder of what she could be missing out on. Who is suppressed here? On any given night, Neel is the one breaking glassware in our sink as he does the dinner dishes. This was just three families gathered together. Gathered happily. It was perfect. The whole day was perfect. I was just where I wanted to be.

kudos (No, really!)

So my friend Mark knows me pretty well. Before nominating me for some kind of blogging award, he had to call and ask permission. He knows how private I am. And he's so sweet. No, really! I was flattered, so why the heck not. The only caveat that he told me about was the one where you pay the award forward and nominate other bloggers. Like I said, Mark knows I'm private, and even admitting to people the blogs I read is hard. If I'd known I was going to have to bare my soul too? I'm not sure I would have ever agreed. Clearly he tricked me. But I'm a rule follower, so here goes. Read carefully. It won't happen again. (And, uh, thanks Mark. No, really!)

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The Versatile Blogger Award

► Acknowledge the award and thank and link back to the person bestowing it. A good way to do this is through a post such as this.

► Pass on the award to other bloggers:

►Let the new recipients know you've selected them.

►Share seven things about yourself that your readers or followers might not know. (See "Seven Bits," below.)

►Post the badge to your blog.

1. If I mentioned above that I'm a rule follower, can that count as #1? No? Okay. If I mentioned in an earlier blog post that I love football can that count? No? Okay. Fine. Let me start again.

1. I have mentioned before that I spend a lot of time, too much really, inside my head. What I didn't mention is that there's mostly teen angst going on in there. I am constantly worrying about things like, "I wish I'd never sent that e-mail." or "He didn't seem as warm to me as usual. I must have said something to upset him." or "Is she mad at me?"  or "Why hasn't she texted me yet?"  So when people tell me they think I'm confident, I want to say Ha! If you could see inside my brain, it's like the set of Sixteen Candles going on in there.

2. There is a part of me (sometimes a big part, sometimes a small part) that wishes we'd had another baby. Can't wait for the comments to start on that. (I'm looking at you Marky.)

3. I have found that as I get older, there are things that I used to really dislike that I now really like. Patent leather for example.

4. I have in me a deep, deep desire to write a book. There are two finished and one unfinished manuscripts buried deep in my filing cabinets (and no more shall be said about that), but I really yearn to write more. Fiction, creative nonfiction, I don't know. The dream is there, but I fear that the drive and/or the discipline is not.

5. I don't sleep. I have had trouble with sleep for most of my adult life, and my recent bout with headaches (accidentally typed "hurricanes," how ironic is that?!) has made sleep particularly difficult. I sleep with a book and a my phone, used as a flashlight, next to me. We call my sleep "fragile." When reading, I can get incredibly sleepy, but if it takes too much effort to turn off the light or adjust my pillow, I'm awake again. At one point in the middle of the night a few weeks ago, the image of my sleep being fragile like an egg came to me. Later that same long night, I had the thought that sleep for me is an egg balanced on a bread knife. If I ever write that book, you will read that metaphor there.

6. I love weather. All kinds, but especially hurricanes. I'll admit it, it was a special thrill to move to a hurricane-y part of the world, and terribly exciting to experience one as soon as we got here! Ever since Hurricane Hugo ravaged the area where my family had traveled for so many summer vacations, I have followed the seasons and their formations. As I mentioned before, Callum's getting into it a little now too. It's not just hurricanes. Thunderstorms, record heat, record cold, snow, rain, mist, drizzle, mizzle, you name it...I love it. The problem with weather is that it will always let you down. You watch the storm of the century coming towards you that dumps 8 inches of snow (this is Tidewater, Virginia people, what do you expect?), and you're wishing, why wasn't it ten? You live through a winter of 80 inches of snow (not in Tidewater, Virginia), and you think, "Oh just one more snowfall." Callum is learning this as we speak. I'm sure that no matter how much rain Nearly-Tropical-Storm-Nicole (the system I can't quite understand) dumps on us, he'll want a few more inches and a few more gusts of wind. Heck, I will too.

7. I am in search of a thread. I'm re-reading a book by Orangette author (Do you re-read books? I do, it's a particular pleasure of mine...look at me letting the intimate details all hang out!) Molly Wizenberg, and she talks about how cooking is a thread in her life. And hey! She even wrote a book about it. I am in search of a thread. Sure I like to cook. I've been cooking for a long time. Sure I like to write. I've been writing for a long time. Sure I like to take photographs. I first got interested in photography a looooooong time ago (and queen of dropped thread that I am, left it alone a looooong time ago too). But what's my thread? That's definitely something I'd like to know.

And now that I've gotten started I guess there's a lot more that I could say. I like hot sandwiches but not cold ones. I need my windshields to be very, very clear when I'm driving, or even riding in rhe rain. I like a light to be on in the house when I come home after dark... Funny how that works. Revealing things. In honor of Mark, who I would nominate right back if I could, I'll put the link to the blog back on my facebook profile page. So all 40 of my friends can come check it out. Every new year I resolve to be more brave, so there you go. Now my old high school boyfriend can come see what this is all about, should he so desire (doubtful).

I really do appreicate you thinking of me Marky. And you dear readers, all 12 of you should go and check out his blog. You'll learn a lot more about him than you ever would about me! He and I have been friends since we were baby-adults (newly hatched grown-ups), and he is still one of the best, funniest people I ever met. And I still think that after discovering that half of his facial expressions come from Homer Simpson. Seriously, that man tells the best stories. Way better than mine. If he wrote a book, I'd read it, and I'd try very hard not to be jealous.

And as far as the nominating goes? I have to pick my friend Megan. That's MEE-gan. At Megan's Blog. That's MEE-gan's Blog. Not only a versital blogger, she's one of the most versitle people I know. A little funny too. And she's a great writer. Brilliant posts. I'm hoping this award will encourage her to write more of them.