We keep Christmas all the way through Christmastide until Epiphany around here. I suspect I’ll post our menu for Twelfth Night (January 5th) and I will be very sad when our tree comes down on the 7th.

In the meantime, we’re still enjoying the Season – warm fires and our grandmother’s teeny-tiny, brass candlesticks (filled with red candles, rather than my customary blue or white) on the mantle. I like the mood of this picture, but it kind of cracks me up, too – maybe it’s the little Korean horse’s snout on the bottom right – or maybe it’s the fact that Spectre’s stocking is bigger than anyone else’s.

He’s 13 years old, now. He has made an appearance every year in my house as part of the Christmas decorations.

This year, he’s perched on top of the beer glass cabinet (doesn’t every house have one?) facing…

Well…north, of course.

My Grandmother Peggy and Grandfarmer Armour bought it in 1941, I believe. They bought it because their first-born, my dad, was born in October of that year, just a few weeks before we were thrown into WWII as a nation.  Interesting times, to be sure.

Solidly made* of maple (the two ends) and poplar (the two sides), my Aunt Sara also used it about 5 years later.

In 1969, I used it. And Armour followed in December of ’75.

Dad shipped it to me a little over a month ago…its lead-based paint a “must-remove”…

…but the lustre of the beautiful natural wood beneath the layers of paint (our restorer found multiple layers beneath the white – a pale salmon pink and a powder blue) only needed a slight stain that mimicked the maple’s color and that came alive with a burnish achieved by lots of elbow grease and a soft cloth. (Thanks, Neil!)

I love furniture that has a history.

I love that Skye will grow up in it, too.

And I love that Neil found teethmarks that he didn’t remove.

*…for concerned readers, please know that this crib meets all up-to-date safety standards – turns out that the balls are safe because they rotate…and the slats are within the limits of what is allowable in cribs manufactured today.  We would NEVER place our girl in danger. I guess they were onto something 70 years ago!  ;)

So, Mom made up a beautiful little Easter Tree -

- and we enjoyed a spectacular repast, though it would have been nicer with Dad and John here.

Roasted Asparagus Craig-style:

Soak lovely asparagus spears in icy-cold water, after bending them in your hands and letting them break where they may (they naturally break at the tender part…so the bottom ends that break off are the woody, pithy parts you don’t want to eat, anyway…)

Then, toss them in olive oil, coarse salt, and coarsely-ground pepper.

Roast at 500 degrees (yes. 500!) for 8 minutes.

Serve, after the briefest squeeze of lemon over the entire dish…

Perfection.   Every time.

So, it was for us – a Day of Celebration, Redemption, and Life Everlasting.

Certainly, a day to be grateful.

Happy Easter; Happy Spring!

So he told a parable to those who were invited, when He noted how they chose the best places, saying to them:

“When you are invited by anyone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in the best place, lest one more honorable than you be invited by him;

and he who invited you and him come and say to you, ‘Give place to this man,’ and then you begin with shame to take the lowest place.

“But when you are invited, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when he who invited you comes he may say to you,

‘Friend, go up higher.’ Then you will have glory in the presence of those who sit at the table with you.

“For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

John’s just always been like that.  He never expects to find favor with anyone – he is just himself.  He never has sought the spotlight – preferring always to do the right thing and know within himself that at the end of the day, doing what is right is what’s important.   So, given the fact that he is so unassuming, it was wonderful to see him rewarded with this rank, in a beautiful setting on the ocean, with the distant port lights twinkling in the fog of a cold February night.

Watching him thank his foreign brothers-in-arms for the honor of their company on such an occasion, and, later, receiving the roses and beautiful sentiment he spoke to me (from e.e. cummings’ poem “i carry your heart with me” which says, in part: “i fear no fate, for you are my fate”) in front of everyone?  Let’s just say it was a truly unique experience that I will never forget.

“Proud of him” and “Proud to go through Life with him” really doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Bravo, John Darling…this was your moment; you earned every bit of it.

*Thanks to Max, for this great response to our news!

Families are great. Family traditions are great, too – like the familiar silver pheasants on my Aunt’s Thanksgiving table.

Menu:

“Feast Day Pork Roast”, sliced – adapted from Priscilla Vigil, of Tesuque Pueblo, New Mexico

Blackeyed Peas, flavored with bacon and bay leaves

Kale and Mustard Greens

Leftover cranberry relish (because I forgot to make a salad)

…and lovely melon-colored roses “just because”.

Happy New Year!

Still, we were so fortunate to be with John’s family – and I enjoyed every minute of it…I cooked the Main Event(s) of Prime Rib and Goose and both turned out well (in the case of the Prime Rib – a little too well-done for my taste – but it turns out that most people at the table preferred it that way.) Another of life’s Happy Accidents, I guess.

Here are some pictures from our gathering…hope y’all had a wonderful, meaningful Christmas.

XOXO -

Hol

 And once we were home again … the goose went into a pot!