Ready, Set, Grow!

My Amaryllis  is a cheater. Its true. I waited until the day before Thanksgiving to open the box and get the planting medium set to plant the bulb on Thanksgiving, but when I opened it, I found this.

Ready, Set, Grow!

I guess every year of a tradition has its own story (see the backstory of mine here), and this year it starts with  this overachieving Amaryllis  already popping out of the papery brown bulb. I have righted it, placed it deep in its peat-y soil, and placed it in my own sunny kitchen window. Hopefully it will lose the bleached out green and keep growing. I will keep you posted. 

In the meantime, I would love to see yours too. Post photos here, please.

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All Good Gifts Around us…

thanksgiving_turkey-6728Happy Thanksgiving!

I am thankful for so may things, but one of them is you. Thanks for reading a long through this

Unhurried Christmas.

Something else I am  really grateful for is my brothers.

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No matter what time it is, day or night, more reliably than the post office, in rain, hail, sleet, or snow, if I call, they answer. I couldn’t have been blessed with two better siblings and I want to let them know how much I appreciate them. Thanks guys for always lending your ear, your shoulder, and your expertise. I am thankful for you!

This post deserves a soundtrack. Because the musical Godspell will always have a soft spot in my heart, I will share my song of thanks, here.

 

T minus 8 Hours to Our Top 6 Thanksgiving Traditions!

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The last leaf! Thanksgiving walk 2012

The last few days have been busy ones and though they haven’t been hurried, they have been busy. I have had two work projects delay until they were happening simultaneously and between altered schedules, the unexpected, and the toil of everyday, we have been more of a tag team than a couple. While we’re a great tag team, I really don’t like it when that happens.

But now the leaves are raked, the fireplace is clean, and work; after tomorrow, work has been told to buzz off for the next four days. We are ready for what I have been calling the Thanksgiving Relax-o-thon. Our Thanksgiving isn’t traditional. For starters, it is just we two. Turkey is only involved as a leftover, and the main course is chow fun and spring rolls. Just saying it makes me smile. This is the most relaxed, low pressure holiday imaginable. Here is what I am most looking forward to:

6.      Being cozy at home with a fire crackling and a mug of cocoa. The pure joy of this is augmented by the weather we are having. Cold and wet and icy; perfect for being home and watching movies.

5.      Thanksgiving Dinner of Perfect Bites. Rather than an enormous thanksgiving feast we have decided to make just the perfect bites of the things we like the most. We like surprises, so I can only tell you mine–salty, green Sicilian olives and stinky cheeses. These will be an appetizer (more like evening grazing) before the dinner. The main course is Chinese food, T originated this tradition. Talk about no pressure Thanksgiving!

4.      Baking. Even though I’m not making dinner, I couldn’t get through Thanksgiving without baking. This year I am making two things: a classic pumpkin pie, so I can call my dad and have a piece over the phone and a two loaves of brioche. One loaf will be for turkey sandwiches on Friday, and the other will go home with a great teenager who is coming over tomorrow after school to sort through our surplus CDs. I am pretty excited about making both.

3.      Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Confession time—I have been watching every sickeningly sweet, late night, cable channel Christmas movie I have come across for weeks. These uncomplicated movies full of twinkling lights and happy endings have been warming me up for the real holiday movies to kick off.  Planes, Trains and Automobiles is the official movie our Thanksgiving weekend. We quote the movie all year long and it never ceases to make me laugh almost to the point of tears. The end of this scene in particular makes me lose it every time. 

2.    Talking to my Family. I am hopeful that my mom has decided not to cook. I am crossing my fingers that she is ordering a turkey from one of the terrific BBQ places near her house, and then powdering her nose with flour before she brings the pie (and Redi-Whip) to the table to the oohs and aahs of my brothers. Just when I think I have swayed her to take it easy, she will change her mind (relaxing is not her style!). I will know all the details for certain when I call them with my own piece of pumpkin pie and I can’t wait.

1.      Thanksgiving Weekend Date Night. A long walk in the crisp air with the one I love is enough to make my heart burst with gratitude for the life I get to live. A few years ago, we started taking a Thanksgiving walk (I am sure we were motivated to burn off some of the pie we planned to eat) and now it has become a tradition. When the world starts to spin almost out of control and deadlines, and chores, and responsibilities come calling, were good at reminding one another to breathe and to laugh. In the quiet moments, it feels great to say thank you for that and to just enjoy being together.

 A view of the lake from our Thanksgiving walk 2012.

Geese on the lake;
from our Thanksgiving walk 2012.

I will get back to living in the moment, but for now, I am filled with anticipation for my top six–and right on the heels of Thanksgiving, the Christmas tree lighting and caroling. Commence the Christmas season!

“Imagine a morning in late November. A coming of winter morning more than twenty years ago.”

imagesAt my house, we have been talking a lot about what it means to really savor the season. The conversation keeps winding back around to one thing: being mindful about how time is spent–and how it isn’t spent. Its amazing how refreshed I feel on the nights we put Christmas music and read in front of the fire, rather than putting on the TV. Reading is one of those activities that requires all of your attention. All of your focus. I think that is one of the reasons why it is so rewarding. It also allows you to wonder and imagine in a way that the Internet doesn’t. Of course, the Internet is on my top ten list of things I am thankful for. It is great to be able to search and find the answer to any question in the blink of an eye, and it is wonderful to learn about things far an wide from the comfort of your sofa, but it takes away time from seeing things with your mind’s eye.  Its good for the soul to just imagine, without having Google there to inform every nook and cranny of your thoughts.

I hope you find sometime to wonder and imagine and read. And so you don’t have to spend your unhurried moments looking for something to read, heres is one of my Christmas favorites: A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote. It is complete with off-beat relatives, the sounds of jingly dimes, a dose of reality, a touch of politics and the joyful, expectant feeling of Christmas.  Without further adieu….

A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote
Imagine a morning in late November. A coming of winter morning more than twenty years ago. Consider the kitchen of a spreading old house in a country town. A great black stove is its main feature; but there is also a big round table and a fireplace with two rocking chairs placed in front of it. Just today the fireplace commenced its seasonal roar.A woman with shorn white hair is standing at the kitchen window. She is wearing tennis shoes and a shapeless gray sweater over a summery calico dress. She is small and sprightly, like a bantam hen; but, due to a long youthful illness, her shoulders are pitifully hunched. Her face is remarkable—not unlike Lincoln’s, craggy like that, and tinted by sun and wind; but it is delicate too, finely boned, and her eyes are sherry-colored and timid. “Oh my,” she exclaims, her breath smoking the windowpane, “it’s fruitcake weather!”The person to whom she is speaking is myself. I am seven; she is sixty-something, We are cousins, very distant ones, and we have lived together—well, as long as I can remember. Other people inhabit the house, relatives; and though they have power over us, and frequently make us cry, we are not, on the whole, too much aware of them. We are each other’s best friend. 

To keep reading, click here. 

Chicken Wing Dip. Because Its Delicious and I am from Buffalo

I have long since given up finding good wings south of Buffalo. There was a brief and shining moment when we found good wings at a great old neighborhood restaurant within walking distance from our house. They had a fireplace, loud live music from time to time, and the bartenders knew our wing order as soon as we sat down. But alas, they lost their lease, and again, we find ourselves wingless.

Enter Buffalo Chicken Wing Dip. It takes ten minutes to make and it saves me a trip north, and saves my boyfriend my  impassioned  tirade about what real chicken wings taste like 🙂 I offer it to you as something quick to pull together for a party. It has also stood in for dinner more than once at this house.

Step one: Gather up chicken (this is canned chicken breast),  a cup of Franks Red Hot Sauce (there is no substitute),  a cup of Marie’s Blue Cheese Dressing (this one is “light” which is kind of funny when you consider this whole dip is predicated on a block of cream cheese), one block of cream cheese, a 1/2 cup of shredded cheese, and a big bowl.

Step two: heat the cream cheese in the microwave until it is soft (about a minute).

Step three: Shred the chicken and stir into the cream cheese.

Step four: add all other ingredients and stir until smooth

Step five is choose your own adventure–you can either bake it and make it all bubbly, put it in a crockpot to serve warm, or dive in as is. I prefer the last option 🙂

Letting Christmas Traditions Bloom

AmaryllisI was talking to my mom about slowing down and unhurrying the season and we were trying to figure out the last time I wasn’t working around the clock for Christmas. We were on the phone and it was a long conversation, which is a new benefit of the unhurried Christmas.

My mom usually gets the brunt of my busyness. She always takes the time to call to make sure I am taking the time to sleep and eat and do something fun now and again, and she is met with “Can I call you back after…” or “I can’t talk, I was just about to…” or “I have been meaning to call you but by the time I slow down it has been too late.” She tells me the housework will wait when I am running on 5 hours of sleep. She tells me she will call me to wake me up if I decide to take a nap between work and an evening commitment.  Mama Mia, if you are reading this, thank you.

But I digress…

There was one time I slowed down a while—when I moved back to upstate New York and moved in with my grandparents. I worked part time raising donations for a television auction. I didn’t have a car or an alarm clock, I just fell into the staid, calm of their routine.

Every morning my grandfather said my name at the closed bedroom door and 30 minutes later there was a cup of coffee on the table for me between his mug and my grandmother’s tea cup. We bundled up and headed out in the icy air of a Buffalo winter, and listened to old music on an am station in the car. From January to May my grandfather drove my grandmother and me to work and picked us up at the end of the day.

There was not much quiet in my big, rambunctious, Italian family, but my grandfather was a font of calm for me. Somehow when I moved back I got this focused time with my grandparents that I hadn’t had since childhood, before all of the cousins and siblings were born. For the first time, I was an adult to my grandparents (or as much as a grandchild can ever be an adult to their grandparents) and our relationship grew.

Amaryllis12707That winter I bought an amaryllis and when I showed it to my grandfather, he adopted the whole project. We’re both gardeners in a family that is kind of annoyed by the mess dirt creates. Before too long, the plastic pot the bulb came with was abandoned in favor of a recycled ice cream tub. As the bulb sprouted, he stuck pencils in the soil to prop it up. And then the pencils were replaced with yard sticks. The whole operation was in the window next to his chair at the dinner table—the sunniest spot in the house for many reasons. And that bulb, our Christmas experiment, thrived.

By the following Christmas, I had moved out of their house. I had rented an apartment a little closer to the city, got a promotion and started working full time, finally gotten my license, and was on the verge of getting engaged. In all of that, I stopped to buy two amaryllis bulbs—one for his sunny window and one for my apartment. I loved having this thing we just did together—me and him. I remember running out of my uncle’s house as my grandparents started to pull out of the driveway after a visit. I almost forgot to give it to him. I handed the blub to him through the car window, standing on my toes to avoid the slush at the curb. He was genuinely happy about it. “I’ll go home and plant it now.”

Not long after that, after a quiet, eyes-forward conversation as we drove together, my grandfather, my papa, told me that he had lung cancer. I brought him a tiny Christmas tree in the hospital. He was home and back there over the Christmas season. I would go and sit with him and talk with him for the few minutes that he would be awake and he would smile and laugh and ask me to turn on the news. That was the last Christmas we had together.

I found those bulbs at the foot of his basement stairs in the spring when he passed away. The bags said “Christmas bulbs” and the year they were first planted written in his handwriting. When I went back for them a week later, someone had already thrown them away. I have planted an amaryllis and thought of him, no matter where I have been, every year since them.

My mom started planting them too. Somewhere in there, I started sending them to her for Thanksgiving and we would plant them—on opposite ends of the country—at the same time. We then spend the whole Christmas season sending one another pictures of their progress and then of the big, breathtaking blooms. I have gotten a lot of Christmas memories and cheer out of this unintentional tradition.

Slowly it bloomed...

Slowly it bloomed…

I am posting this a bit early because it is on my mind—and because I want you to take the time to plant one too. Last year I kept meaning to get to it and I didn’t. It wasn’t until my mom told me she gave my brother one to plant for the first time at his house that I eventually bought one at Target. It was the last of the batch, it was busting out of its torn paper package and it was already stunted and contorted. It did not have a good start and I didn’t have my grandfather’s sunny window. It took forever to get rooted. I was so behind the others. It bloomed around the New Year and it was gorgeous, but it wasn’t the same as taking the time to do it right. I said never again, so here is where I own up to that.

This bulb will hit the dirt on Thanksgiving. And with it will spring up another year of memories and the warmth of the season.

Upcycled Junk Mail Christmas Tree Ornament — Upcycle Magazine

I found something to do with the endless supply of holiday catalogs!

recycled-ornament-med

Upcycled Junk Mail Christmas Tree Ornament — Upcycle Magazine.

This website is going to consume a lot of my time…