This same time, years previous: sticky toffee pudding, spinach lemon orzo soup, eyeballs and teeth, creamy blue cheese pasta with spinach and walnuts, and earthquake cake.

Upon arriving at my aunt and uncle’s house for brunch, my children discovered the kittens on the porch and came running.

“Can we have one, Mama? Please? Please?”

“Aw, aren’t they adorable,” I said, cuddling the little ball of fur. And then I stunned them by saying, “Yeah, we can probably have one. Let me talk to Papa.”

Apparently I stunned my husband, too. He stared at me, eyes a-bug. “Are you out of your mind? We don’t need more cats.”

Throughout the day, the kids and I worked on him. The three younger children agreed to chip in ten dollars each (my older son remained aloof) to help cover neutering costs, and I explained to my husband that it won’t be forever that we have children in our home begging for kittens, so why not live it up a little, hmm? Hmm?

I’m a good arguer: we came home with two.

I’ve never had a long-haired cat before and am totally loving these kittens. My aunt said that when they were little, they were so furry that you couldn’t see their legs so they looked like little dust balls rolling across the porch. When they sleep, they get limp and pliable, like fluffy play dough.

They are outside cats, but since we brought them home in the middle of a cold snap (finally!), they’ve been spending their nights in a crate in the back hall. And I let the kids hold them when they are reading or studying. There’s something so soothing about their warm little bodies nestled into the crook of your arm.

They are both male (we think) so the kids named them James and Peter. (Can you guess which book those names are from?) At first glance, the kittens seem identical, but James is bigger and more aggressive while Peter is punier and laid back. I’m slowly learning to distinguish between them, though I still have to chant Giant James and Puny Peter to remember which name goes with which cat.

This same time, years previous: sourdough crackers, one year and one day, the quotidian (1.9.12), hog butchering!, moving big sticks of wood, and baked hash brown potatoes.  

On New Year’s Day, we piled into the van and drove to Pennsylvania for a weekend of family, friends, and good food. My son drove—his first notable drive on I81 (the evilest of highways)—and I rode shotgun. Aside from one almost-missed exit (thanks to my husband’s faulty directions), it was a low-stress driving lesson, whew. We ate lunch at Subway, took advantage of the free coffee deal at Sheetz (the kids had a blast with the cream and sugar machines), and popped in at my grandparents’ for a quick visit before eventually heading to my friend’s house for the night.

Amber’s House
Amber and her family live in the house she grew up in. We’ve been friends since we were in utero (it’s possible), so I’ve always felt at home in her home. It’s magical, the kind of place dreams are made of: thick stone walls with deep set windows (the sills make excellent plant benches), three cellars at three different levels, staircases so steep they make you feel like you’re hauling your sorry butt up Mt. Everest, gardens galore, a five-story barn, a half-mile lane, a sometime-there creek, outbuildings, etc, etc, etc.

My kids positively, absolutely, completely, and totally adore the place. There is so much to do, explore, see, savor! This particular visit they played hide-and-seek, hiked through the meadow to the creek in search of freshwater clams, made a fort in the haymow, used the mow-shoot as a slide, fed the animals, and played with the kittens. My husband chipped in with barn floor repairs and wood splitting. I washed dishes, gave Amber a birthday foot massage (she’s ticklish, so I was probably torturing her), snacked on homemade beef jerky and dried apples, and talked myself silly. We ate shaggy tigers and apple pudding cake for supper, and the next morning, after my husband and I got back from our run, hot chocolate and cinnamon buns were waiting.

We had to drag ourselves away—so much fun we were having!—and ended up arriving late to our next destination point…

The Gathering, Part One: Ham at Brad and Zoe’s
The annual event is kicked off with a noontime ham dinner at my cousin Zoe’s house. (Zoe also happens to be Amber’s niece. And Amber is my second cousin once removed. Have fun with that.) For the most part, I sat at the kitchen table, drinking copious amounts of coffee and yakking with the aunts and cousins. There were games and great uncle piggy-back rides. The guys moved a piano. Some cousins had an egg cracking contest. It is said that you can’t crack an egg in a one-fisted squeeze, so my son tried and the raw egg shot out of the end, nailing my cousin in the arm and face.

Around five o’clock, people started wandering into the kitchen. They didn’t say much, but their presence was unnerving. Are they hungry already? Zoe asked. Should I get out more food? Soon the island was covered with plates of cheeses, meats, veggies, crackers, and fruit, and after a bit we cleared a section to make room for the cookies and cakes. At bedtime, everyone made their way back to their homes (or host homes). A few of us lingered around the kitchen island, drinking water and talking about shared Netflix accounts and urine because we’re exciting that way. My husband and I slept upstairs on the bed, the kids spread around us on the floor in their sleeping bags.

The Gathering, Part Two: Brunch at Jim and Val’s
The next morning, Uncle Jim and Aunt Valerie (Zoe’s parents, and Valerie is also Amber’s older sister), made the traditional feast: waffles, made-to-order omelets, granola, sweet rolls, fruit, pudding, scrapple, coffee, bacon, etc.

Afterward, we lounged about, playing games and visiting. There were more kittens to play with (we brought home two!), and my son attempted another fireball but got bested by the wind. We took a family picture, and some of us ate chips loaded with fresh horseradish just for the nasal passage-searing fun of it.

And that, my friends, is how we kicked off 2016. Happy New Year!

This same time, years previous: what it means, date nut bread, between two worlds, so worth it, salted dulce de leche ice cream with candied peanuts, turkey noodle soup, and what I did.