Well here we are on the downside of another holiday. The last two on the books for this year will be New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. For this year, at least, we are leaving the horn blowing and champagne drinking to other people, and staying home both tonight and tomorrow. I’m pooped. Last weekend, I packed five get togethers into three days. Whew. Sometimes, I amaze my own self. Three we hosted, the remaining two were hosted by other people. It doesn’t really matter which way the dial leans. Even if the party’s not at your house, you always end up doing something. An appetizer or a dessert is needed, or someone asks you to contribute chips and dip. At one function were invited to, a white elephant gift had to be located and wrapped for both Richard and I.
For me, it wasn’t about all the food preparation, the dishes or the cooking, I didn’t mind that at all, but by the fourth affair it was simply having to get all dressed up again and go out that became the issue. My mind and body were belting out a loud of a chorus of “Please Mr. Custer, I don’t want to go”, by Sunday afternoon. And the food…… Well, the food just kept on coming. Let me first say, I am not one to eat large amounts at one sitting. Instead, I am a bit of a “grazer”, if you will, choosing instead to eat small meals often throughout the day. In this case, however, there were no small meals. Saturday I was manning the controls in the kitchen. Spaghetti and meatballs, a tossed salad, and garlic bread were on the menu, plus appetizers and desserts. There were to be twelve of us gathered for dinner that night including my children, their spouses and the grandchildren, plus Richard and myself. Let me say, when my brood gets together we are a force of nature, so bless Richard for opening his house to us. As I mentioned in a previous blog, we have several family members who are vegan. This always seems to become an issue, even though I try not to make it so. I don’t exactly understand the substitutions necessary to bring food to it’s pure natural state, if you will. According to my oldest granddaughter, who is vegan to the core and determined to leave as light a footprint as possible on this world, any food served to vegan standards must not have parents. Kay. Were you to ask my daughter (her mother) how I manage this aspect of her personality she might respond, “Mom is very stubborn”. Fine, labels are so unnecessary. I could have gone on the Internet to figure it out I would suppose, but honestly I had about eight minutes free time penciled in at 2 a.m. for myself and I intended to make good use of it by soundly sleeping.
In the end, it was about us all being together and the presents and vegan non-vegan issues seemed to have little importance. There were two pots of sauce to choose from, one to satisfy vegans and one for the carnivores. Salad, which has no parents, was served with vegan dressing as well as, for lack of a better adjective, regular dressing. Everything was split down the middle right down to the garlic bread, one prepared with ghee and the other, which we ate, made with yes, full disclosure, parented butter. Chuckle.
The second get together was to be the following morning. This was also at our house, for breakfast and mimosas. There were eight in attendance. Richard wore the apron that morning. Seriously, the man missed his calling. He should have been a short order cook. Moving seamlessly about the stove and counters, he produced biscuits (from scratch), sausage gravy, bacon, scrambled eggs, and homestyle potatoes. It got the full five yums from the taste testers.
Once that was done, we tidied up and prepared for the white elephant party we were to go to at his neighbors house later that day. Dinner, of course, was to be included. Groan. I should have thought to include my pants with the elastic waistband when packing. Richard hasn’t quite embraced the white elephant gift concept. He had wrapped up twelve lovely wine goblets to bring with us, six for him and six for me. From what I understand gifts for this type of party are supposed to be either unique, weird, or funny. Wine glasses, last I heard, fall under none of these categories, and since both our boxes were identical, um, never mind. Ah well. As I recall, I got a snowman one year at such a gathering that held a plunger in one hand. When you went to use the bathroom it had a repertoire of phrases it called out and when you sat on the commode and pulled the toilet paper, well, the silly thing broke wind. People were fighting over it, but lucky me I got to take it home.
By the time we got next door I realized, though dressed nicely, I was still wearing my slippers. This, undoubtedly was a subliminal message my brain sent to my feet indicating my brain thought I should be going to bed and not to another party. The following morning, which was Christmas Day, I had to go to the store. People everywhere were full on shopping in their pajamas, so after seeing that I don’t feel I was too far out of step with only slippers representing my sleepware. Thankfully I only had to walk across the lawn to retrieve my shoes, so no harm no foul.
Somehow, I survived another meal without face planting in my plate. I have to give myself kudos for that. It was not light fare either. The main course was beautifully grilled tri-tip sided with garlic mashed potatoes and glazed carrots, not to mention a long list of other dishes. I could barely raise my fork to my lips without sighing. That was, of course, before all the pies, carrot cake, upside down cake, and cookies were put on the table. I kept thinking about my grandmother always saying, “remember all the starving children in China”. We could have saved 90% of them with the food I’d eaten in the past three days.
Four down and one to go, the last one turned out to be the most laid back of the five, Christmas dinner. Sigh. Sorry, can’t help myself. This was to be hosted by Richard’s brother and his wife. They had been cooking for two days. Two sighs. Ribs were the headliners this time, paired with the most delicious beans I’ve ever eaten. There was potato salad, tossed salad, creamy decadent scalloped potatoes, and next to them, representing your heart, were heaping dishes of fresh carrots and asparagus topped with disappearing pats of butter. Oh boy. Their house was decorated beautifully, the company entertaining, and dinner a delight. All in all, is was the perfect end to a lovely holiday celebration. By the time we made it to the car, full but not beaten, my eyes shut before the door had even properly closed. Ahhhhhhh.
Sooooo, I hope your Christmas was special. We are turning our attention to 2024 tomorrow. I have a feeling we are on the precipice of a very interesting year.
Happy New Year to you and yours. Let’s head into this one supporting one another, even if someone believes differently then we do. Let’s stop and lend a hand instead of looking the other way when someone is down on their luck. Let’s say “I love you” every chance we get, as another chance might not come along. Remember kindness, thoughtfulness, and generosity are all free commodities so inflation or no inflation you can afford to use them liberally.
Happy New Year Susie!! I totally get this post. We are staying home tonight and likely all day tomorrow. I haven’t the desire to go anywhere at all!
Just FYI – ghee is made with cow’s milk – not vegan. Just butter that has been clarified. But I won’t tell if you don’t…..
Oh Bernie, don’t tell. lol Happy New Year. Think of you every time I drive down Alta Sierra Drive. Glad you are with your family and settled.
Happy New Year 😃
I was in bed at 9 pm and while I was awake at midnight, I’m happy not being a New Year’s Eve party sort of person.
I hope you have a fantastic 2024.
You too Gary. A clean sheet of paper I always imagine. Happy 2024!!!