Christmas 2007

The Gospel according to Luke

"(T)he stingy uninspired script consists not of springy dialogue, but rather of a deadening series of pronouncements. Mary to Joseph, "I am tired." Joseph to Mary, "We will rest here for the night." There's no fire, no give and take. And the audience soon grows weary of this passionless relationship." David Sedaris from Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol.

My kids participated in the Christmas pageant at our church. Their reenactment of the first Christmas was performed instead of the usual gospel reading. My daughters both dressed up as angels for the production but Lil' T didn't go up on stage. She contented herself with wearing the halo and wings. My son had the starring male role in the play -- you might be thinking Joseph or Gabriel -- sure, they had important parts too, mostly supporting though. My son was the Innkeeper. Really, the whole story arc and the dramatic heft of the play rests on that role's shoulders. Through his scant 6 lines of dialogue, he had us on pins and needles, wondering if his icy heart would melt and give the poor travelers a place to stay. His acting was stellar. I totally believed him as a money grubbing, heartless suck up who ultimately has a small shred of compassion, allowing a pregnant woman to give birth in a cave with his ox and ass sleeping nearby.

I am worried though. My son is being type cast. When he was in the third grade, he played an angry sea urchin. It was a break out role for him. He was the only child that truly acted his part. Sure, most of them were simply making statements about who they were like, "I am a star fish. I like to live in tide pools." But my son really acted like a prickly sea urchin. He shouted, "Hey, what are you doing here? There's no room in this tide pool for you. It is crowded enough as it is." Again, totally believable. But can you see how that is essentially the same part as the innkeeper in the Christmas pageant? The only difference was the costume. Instead of an outfit made of duct tape (a.k.a. duck tape -- for those who are hardware store impaired), paper cones and purple spray paint, he wore a middle eastern robe and pill box hat. I just hope that this typecasting doesn't crimp his ability to take on different roles. I mean, really, what's next down this track? Mr. Roper from Three's Company? Mr. Cunningham from Happy Days? The man from Chico & the Man? The troll from Billy Goats Gruff? I know it is still early in his career, but a mother does worry.


All I want for Christmas


A local radio station here gives out Christmas wishes in the days leading up to Christmas. I decided to try to get something for my mom this year through them -- something that I certainly couldn't afford, especially not this year. This is the entry I wrote, and yeah, it may seem a little over the top, but I wanted to win this for my mom. Oh well, I guess I'll have to fulfill this wish the old fashioned way -- earn it.

When my father retired 17 years ago, my mother treated him to an Omega watch. It was a lavish present for a man who was the son of immigrants, a veteran of 2 wars, worked most of his life as a civil servant doing pest control, sent the 4 of us kids to private school, and at one point took 2 jobs to keep us in our school uniforms. He told my mother that he would get her the matching Omega watch when she retired from her work as a clinic nurse. He promised her that he would. This past year, that retirement finally came. She did not retire on her own schedule but instead, as my parents always have done, put her kids' needs before her own and retired because of me.

In June 2007, my husband, the sole wage earner for our household, was laid off. I was an RN before I left work to raise my kids, ages 10, 6 & 2 years old. To get my license back, I needed to take an RN refresher course -- a 5 month class from a community college. Concerned about me and her grandkids, she said she would retire and come up here from Hawaii to care for my family. Also worried about how I was going to travel to and from the hospital for my clinical assignments, she shipped her only car up here for me to drive.

I always intended to give my mom her Omega watch at her retirement because my dad is unable to keep that promise.

Five years ago, our family gathered in Washington for a Christmas reunion. It was to have been the first one we had shared in over 10 years. At Christmas Eve dinner, my father announced that he expected us all to be in Hawaii for Christmas the following year. He ultimately got his wish, but not the way he had intended. That very evening, Dad died unexpectedly of a massive heart attack. We never had that Christmas all together like we planned. My brothers and I (two in WA, one in HI, and one in CA) went to Hawaii the following year to be with Mom for the 1 year anniversary of Dad's death. Every Christmas season since has been bittersweet -- a shame because Dad truly loved Christmas.

Because I don't have work yet and sadly, my husband has not found a new job, we're struggling this year. My Christmas wish is to give my mom the present my Dad had wanted to give her, the matching Omega watch. I just think that if I could give that to her, she could have Dad here with us for Christmas, even in this small way.

I know, it reads like that overly saccharin Christmas song, Christmas Shoes. My husband will turn off the radio if he hears it playing. It is such an obvious tear jerker. Last night I think he was going to throw up when I started singing it. "Sir, I wanna buy these shoes/ for my Mama, please./ It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size./ Can you hurry, sir?/ Daddy says there's not much time,/ see, she's been sick for quite a while,/ and I know these shoes will make her smile,/ and I want her to be beautiful/ when Mama meets Jesus tonight..."

My hubby and I changed the final lyric a little though, "So I laid the money down. /I just had to help him out. /Then he grabbed the money and he ran,/ and I think it might be part of his plan,/ and I think I heard him stop and say/ 'another one born every day...'"

But I think the difference between my entry and that song is that my story is truthful -- real -- I mean, we lived it. And are still living it. I still get teary eyed sometimes when I go to church, remembering that on my dad's last day, we attended Christmas Eve mass. We watched the last Christmas pageant performed there for years before this year's production. I heard my dad sing, O Little Town of Bethlehem and he boasted a little, like he often did when he sang, about how good his voice sounded and how well he knew the lyrics. And then he was gone. And Christmas has really never been the same since. I kind of get a little grumpy in the days leading up to it. I hope that will change eventually, but I doubt it.

My mistake though. The radio station had a cap for their prizes -- $600 per person. Had I known that, I would have asked for a new camera or something like that. And some of the stories they shared were shockingly more tragic than ours. And I thought ours was pretty bad. All in all, our Christmas was great just having Mom here. And even though money was tight, the kids had a great one.

Eat and get gas

What Christmas blog would be complete without a full recapping of what we ate for the Christmas feast? There was no figgy pudding or Christmas goose. I have not yet tried the scary Turducken phenomenon. My brother the chef has done it, and says it is fabulous. I think I'll wait for him to prepare it for me.

In previous years we've had the traditional Thanksgiving redux and we've also gone totally the other way with steak fajitas. But in our defense, the fajitas had red and green bell peppers in them.

This year, our decision on what to make was made by the upper management at Safeway. Prime rib roast went on sale for $4.99/pound. For those of you who have no frame of reference on that, it usually goes for at least $9.99/lb, often more.

I decided to make potatoes au gratin with leeks, oyster mushrooms & guyere cheese. It is a recipe I got way back in the day from Bon Apetit Magazine. I liked it but the kids didn't. They've got some kind of mental block against mushrooms. I blame their father.

The problem with choosing to make the roast and the potatoes was that there is only one oven in this house. The roast prepared in the oven takes about 3 hours at 200 degrees F. The potatoes cook at 400 for 1 hour 20 minutes. You see the conflict. So I decided to grill the roast using the indirect heat method. It was the perfect solution.

After a quick call to my brother the chef, I asked my husband to prepare the briquets. And like the Jews at the first Hanukkah, we were left with too little fuel to keep the fire lit. We only had 1/2 a chimney starter of charcoal. And in our own Christmas miracle, my husband found another 1/2 a chimney full of charcoal still in the grill. Thank goodness for poor housekeeping. Cleaning out the grill after the season was a chore that fell by the wayside. Amazingly, that one chimney full of charcoal was able to cook the roast for over an hour and imparted the most wonderful smoky flavor to the meat. Does that count as a miracle?

Since it was a special occasion, I decided to use our wedding china.

I do question my sanity looking back at it. Why add the stress of using the wedding china for dinner on Christmas day? As if Christmas isn't stressful enough. The meal is cooked by loving hands that will turn decidedly unloving, should you chip the wedding china. I actually have planned for that eventuality and got 13 place settings. I know that seems unlucky, but I think of it this way. I have 12 place settings and 1 replacement for each piece. My anxiety was sensed by my husband who while clearing the table and bringing the china to the kitchen sink mimicked the sound of a large truck backing up and in a loud voice said, "Beep! Beep! China in transit. Beep! Beep!" Then when he almost dropped a Tupperware container on the plates, looking at my barely contained freak out, he changed his mantra to, "Beep! Beep! China in danger. Beep! Beep!"

Oh, I suppose you all would like to know what we had for dessert. Mom and I made binbingka cassava and jello mochi. Both desserts almost didn't make it to the end of the meal. We had prepared them early and by the time we set the table for dinner, most of it had disappeared down the gullets of my family.

The meal was fabulous and festive. My son really had a fun time with his Christmas present from Uncle Dwight. It is a remote control fart machine. So yes, my table was set with my finest china. I had a brand new gold table cloth and deep red table runner both imported from Italy. The kids were drinking out of stemware instead of plastic tumblers. We even used cloth napkins instead of paper. And all the while, we had the sound of farting coming from under the table with giggle filled accusations flying. That's classy.

Ah, memories. Mele Kalikimaka!