Christmas Eve Grinches

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written on Christmas Eve, disconnected from the world…

It will be a rare, white Christmas for us this year.

The interstates are closed.  Stranded motorists – in route to Christmas gatherings or doing last-minute errands — are waiting for the National Guard.

Closer to home, no buses are running up and down Walker Avenue.  No cars are skating the slippery side-streets.  I’ve swept snow off my porches more times than I can shake a broomstick at.  I’m guessing ten to twelve inches so far.

The internet is down and snow continues to fall.  We are cut off.  We are set apart from the rest of the world by snow.  We are living in a Christmas song.

Silent night; Holy night.

Yet all is not calm.  Nor is it bright.  Ever so often the wind howls.  Snow puffs up and curls like smoke from rooftops.

If it were not for that occasional gust of wind, it would be silent.  I feel as is we are living a quiet country life on the edge of downtown.

It’s odd to be living in a silent night rather than singing about it at Christmas Eve church service.   And it’s strange to be living a White Christmas rather than dreaming it through song.  But the unexpected gift of a White Christmas is firmly on my doorstep, no matter how many times I try to sweep it away.

For years I’ve dreamed of gathering family around a Christmas brunch.  This was to be my year.  But what was to be brunch for twelve will be brunch for three.

Several of the dishes – a breakfast casserole and my Aunt Jo’s pull-apart coffee cake – will be made tonight.  Earlier today I baked a dozen Red Velvet Cupcakes with peppermint cream cheese frosting.

The rest of my menu  —  the blackberry blue corn muffins, the cinnamon rolls, the brown-sugar bacon, the pancakes – will keep for another brunch.  Some day.

For now, my unexpected guest is the snow that has come.  It has closed roads and canceled many gatherings in its path to get here.

Yet, my story is not about a Snow-Grinch stealing away my Christmas brunch dreams.  Christmas will come whether we gather at church or around a dreamy brunch.  Christmas is full of miracles no matter how it comes wrapped.

I’m living in a beautiful Christmas greeting card.  And from where I sit all snug and warm, it’s a fine place to worship Christ and new birth, against a landscape frosted in  un-driven snow.  As you can see…my candle it lit, without need of church.

Going My Way

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Life was going Dad’s way yesterday.  My brother Jon and I haven’t enjoyed this good of a visit with Dad since…. well, let’s just say it’s been a really long time.  We stayed longer than usual, but even then, it was hard to leave.

I wished I had brought a camera to snap Daddy’s photo.  He just looked so good.

Not to make light of it, but after three plus months of going without, Dad has new front teeth for Christmas.  Perhaps I’ve already shared that the nursing home staff inadvertently threw Daddy’s old dentures in the trash three months ago.  To Daddy’s way of thinking, I’m sure he thought his dentures were safe and sound, all neatly wrapped up in a Kleenex sitting by his vanity sink.  And now, after four visits to a dentist, Daddy is all smiles.

Unlike our last visit, Daddy intently followed yesterday’s selected Christmas movie — Going My Way — which use to be a favorite of Daddy’s.   My father was just fourteen when the movie premiered in 1944 — it went on to sweep the Academy Awards.

Like Daddy, I just love that movie.  I want to believe that people like Father O’Malley — the heartwarming character, played by Bing Crosby, who was always thinking of others — really do exist.  It’s just a feel good movie from beginning to end.

Yet, Going My Way never fails to reduce me to a few tears as all loose ends are tied up and Father O’Malley is ready to move on.

The only thing that could have made this mini-Christmas miracle more perfect is if my sister Christi had been there to share it with us.  But I’m sure she was  — in spirit.

Spaghetti … With Love

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I grew up with spaghetti and meatballs.  It was just an everyday staple at Mom’s kitchen table in spite of our lack of Italian ancestors

Mom’s recipe grew out of early marriage memories made during my parent’s first trip back east.  While I was there too, I was not yet a year old.  So it was seven or eight years later that I first heard the story of how we once stayed at a small Vermont roadside motel with a nearby restaurant.  Mom recalled that the tables of the quaint restaurant were covered with red and white checked tablecloths.  And there she and Dad enjoyed a dish of spaghetti and meatballs.  I’m not sure whether it was Mom’s first taste of spaghetti, but I know it was this meal that inspired her to recreate the sauce from memory.

Her recipe was simple.  She served it anywhere and everywhere.  She served it in her home to large family gatherings, it was her favorite take-out bereavement meal and she would often package up leftovers to send home with her youngest grandchildren Abigail and Annie.  It was my father’s favorite meal.

Perhaps it’s the memory of Mom that lives out in my own life that causes me to give away this meal to others.  I’m not really sure.  But in January this year, I prepared it for a couple of master gardening friends in recovery from orthopedic surgery.  And this Christmas season, I’ve made a couple of batches as gifts for a few special folks in my  life.

As with all the best recipes, Mom’s recipe is splattered with who knows what ingredients from years of much use, though I’ve used another recipe for almost 10 years now.   Yet, I still make Mom’s meatballs; I smile at the memory of once calling them light bulbs, not knowing the difference between one label and the other.  And really, there is truth under this childhood memory —  because no matter what ingredients and labels are used, a gift of a home-cooked meal is about love beyond all else.

Both sauce recipes are included for the sake of posterity.  Enjoy either or both — from my life to yours.

Spaghetti Sauce with Meatballs

Serves 4 to 6   Sauce made in advance is better the second day —  allow 2 hours for preparation

Serve over 1 16 oz box of spaghetti, cooked al dente per package directions

Meatballs

2 slices of sandwich bread soaked in 1/4 cup milk – mix together until fine. Mix with:

2 pounds lean ground beef
1/4 to 1/2 cup finely minced onion
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper

Mix together and form into flattened golf-size balls.  Mother cooked in a skillet over low heat until done — I cook mine in a 9×13 pan in a 350 oven for an hour.  When cooked through, drain and add to sauce as it cooks.

Mother’s Spaghetti Sauce

Serves 4

2 15 0z cans tomato sauce
2 Tbsp sugar
Salt and pepper to taste
1/2 Tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese
1/8 tsp garlic powder
2 medium bay leaves

Simmer in a large sauce pan over low heat for 1 to 2 hours

Janell’s Spaghetti Sauce

Makes 12 cups — Divide and freeze extra sauce for simple future meals

Saute until tender in dutch oven over low heat:

2 Tbsp olive oil
6 finely chopped celery stalks
1 cup finely chopped onion

Add following and continue to simmer over low hear for two hours, stirring occasionally:

2 28 oz cans tomatoes, processed in blender until smooth
1 15 oz can tomato sauce
1 12 oz can tomato paste
1/2 cup of ketchup
1/2 cup granulated sugar
Juice of 1 lemon
2 garlic cloves crushed
2 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 cup water
1 cup red wine (not cooking wine)
1 1/2 tsp chili powder
1 tsp Italian seasoning
1 tsp dried parsley
1 tsp sweet basil
1 tsp allspice
1 bay leaf
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper