Christmas 2024

Christmas felt extra peopley this year. I’m not sure why, especially since we only have one kid at home now. Maybe because Christmas fell mid-week? Maybe because “getting together” involved adult kids, and adult kids feel more like “real” people? Maybe because some of the gatherings happened in the morning which meant it felt like they took up the whole day? Maybe because there was so freaking much food? In any case, here’s what went down in the last week, give or take. 

The day before Christmas, my parents hosted a wood cutting party and pancake breakfast. For those unfamiliar with this practice, a wood cutting party means that we all go out in the woods to split and stack wood according to my dad’s specifications/methods.

This time around, he’d already felled the trees and we just split wood and then threw it into piles where they’ll be left to cure before getting hauled over to our respective houses. (My dad sees to it that all of our houses — mine, my brother’s, and my parents’ — are cozy and warm all winter long.) 

For the breakfast, my dad made multiple batches of pancake mix from scratch.

segmented bag of premeasured pancake mix
^{photo credit: my younger daughter}

And then we cooked everything outside: bacon, sausages (I’d pre-fried them), eggs, pancakes, fruit toppings, coffee etc, etc.

Everyone stuffed their faces, froze their butts off, and then sat around by the fire visiting before rolling ourselves on home.

That evening, all our kids came over for our traditional Christmas eve cheese supper.

I’d felt like I hadn’t properly prepped for the meal — the only “special” thing I’d bought was some assorted charcuterie meats from Costco — but after a bit of pantry rummaging, an actual festive meal of sorts began to emerge: we’d scored some leftover shrimp from a birthday party, and I had a respectable stash of pickles, crackers, and dried fruit, and then last minute I made a cheeseball to fulfill the spreadable soft cheese requirements. 

The next morning, my younger son surprised us with gifts. He’d gotten my husband a toaster that claimed to toast 50% faster, so they ran a test. (The claim was accurate.) Bonus: the new toaster is smaller so it takes up less room on the counter.

I set out Christmas cookies for breakfast, and then all the kids met up at our place.

I’d texted them earlier in the week that my husband and I would be going for a hike on Christmas Day and anyone who wanted was welcome to join. All of them wanted, it turned out, plus three dogs, so all of us hiked the 8-mile Bird Knob Trail. 

Normally, when we hike with people, we have all sorts of conversations, but this hike was almost completely devoid of any conversation (minus all the dealing-with-dogs chatter). Just, the seven of us silently trudging along for hours. It felt kinda weird, but also kinda nice. 

By this point, I was getting fed up with all the fancy food so supper was a plate of plain old (delicious) salad.

(Actually, I remained tired of food for the next five days. I mean, I liked it and I ate it, but I was also tired of food, food, food. Only now am I beginning to regain my normal levels of food enthusiasm.)

The day after Christmas, we met up with a bunch of friends for brunch. 

The next day my family had our gathering, a progressive meal.

Part One, at my parents’ house for mochi, a traditional Japanese New Years dish. My sister-in-law steamed the sticky rice and then the kids all took turns pounding it in a wooden “bowl” that my brother made.

The rice “dough” got shaped into balls, dipped in soy sauce, and then wrapped in nori. Some of the mochi got topped with bean paste.

Every year people die from choking on the gelatinous mochi, my sister-in-law said, so all the while we were eating, we were yelling, “small bites!” and “don’t die!” at each other. Very festive.

Part Two, my house for pizzas, my mom’s coleslaw, and my sister-in-law’s deep fried pork sandwiches (which were freakishly amazing). 

paper plates: this is how you can tell I was getting sick of food and cooking

Part Three, at my brother’s house for a cookie potluck. We sang our Christmas song, and then did a white elephant exchange with things my mother had collected from the thrift store over the last year. I scored a head lamp.

And there you go! That was the bulk of the socialization, though there was also an afternoon hang with some girlfriends, a game of Ultimate, work at the bakery, etc. In between the feasting and people-ing, my husband did some attic dunging out and spiffing up of our younger daughter’s bedroom and upstairs hallway: patching walls, painting, window washing, installing new blinds. 

His exact words: “If you hear a loud noise, call J. Don’t even bother to look.”
(J is an ER nurse.)

And now it’s the week after Christmas and we’re back to our low-key schedule and scrappy meals. It’s glorious. 

This same time, years previous: fun to watch, cheese tasting: round three, the quotidian (12.30.19), 2017 book list, family magnified, our apocalypse, tamalada!.