Twas one week before Christmas, and all through the home

Carols were playing, through laptop and phone.

The stockings were hung in the living room too,

And lights on the tree shined brightly, though few.

The toddler ran giggling from place to place, 

While her parents took in a quiet embrace. 

I'll stop there. The original "Twas the night before Christmas..." poem is far longer than my parody, but you get the idea. We're ready for next week's big shebang and feeling cozy in anticipation. I've been turning on the tree lights as soon as I wake up- dreary days call for twinkling lights all the day through- and I whipped together a Christmas stocking for Alice yesterday morning, so our whole little family is rightfully represented this year. For now, there is a little girl waking up from her nap and the mail just arrived (more holiday greetings, I hope). I hope you're enjoying your season of anticipation, these final days of advent.

Merry Christmas

All photos by the dear & lovely Sarah Leaman

a blessing

This weekend was "Ukrainian Christmas," which means my mostly-English mother cooked 12 courses of seriously Ukrainian food. Over 20 people filled our little dining room, sitting around tables and on chairs borrowed from our church. I sat across from my little Ukrainian grandmother, while she giggled at my brother's vaguely inappropriate comments- "Grandma, where have you been all my life?" She told us once again about growing up and eating jellied pigs feet. Unfortunately, jellied pigs feet were not on the menu for our version of Ukrainian Christmas.

What was on the menu? The food my mouth waters over for the rest of the year: stuffed cabbages, stuffed fish, mushroom gravy, braided bread, fruit compote, kutia- a sweet, grainy favorite, to remind of our ancestors-, sauerkraut with yellow peas, deep red borscht with sour cream and the pierogi we spend hours making by hand- rolling out dough to be the thickness of a pillowcase, and carefully stuffing each little dumpling with onion and potato.

By the end of the meal I sit back in my chair, hoping for my stomach to expand so I can actually finish my plate. There's no way. Its all so good and I want to keep savoring, but the food is so rich and my belly so warm. I manage to have a sliver of honey cake- the middle piece that is especially moist and sunken- and even though it'll take days to feel hungry again, it is totally worth it.

After dinner and some digestion, talking and more wine, it is time for blessings. My parents give each child one gift, with a written blessing that is read aloud to the entire party. My cousin's son, just a few weeks old, received his first blessing this year and we certainly remembered his ancestors. The grandfathers that would want this little baby to be strong and hardworking, thoughtful and faithful. Jake and I received a special blessing for our first married Christmas: "No matter how much love you have, hard times come. They often surprise us. We imagine love and faithfulness securing us in peace, and it often does, but life has a way of throwing curve balls that we can't anticipate. We may be left shaken, unsure of what went wrong...it is not about today's disappointment, but about hope for tomorrow. It is not about being perfect, but about being perfectly suited for each other. It is not about always being happy, but rather about knowing a deep contentment in knowing someone is going to stay faithful, no matter what...We pray that the reminder you receive with this blessing often brings you back to that day when your love and lives were celebrated by those who love you"

I'm always sad to have it all done. The glasses empty and the punch ring melted. The sound of the dishwasher and babies crying over getting on their pajamas. Yet, the words of the blessings still hang in the air, and linger for a while. They flutter about our minds and land when we need them as a reminder.

When I think of Ukrainian Christmas I first smell and taste and see the food in my mind's eye. Then, the true value comes to the fore- every moment is a blessing, and the blessings themselves draw attention to the deep worth of the entire evening. From pinching pierogi in the kitchen, to sitting together around long tables, the evening is full of savored moments. We are rich with family.

[photo credit: here]

oh Canada

It was my first time in Montreal, and Jake's first time this century. We were both hopeful and, oh Canada, Montreal did live up to it's reputation. We bumbled our way through French dialogue. We stayed in Old Town at the Hotel Champ de Mars, and took the incredibly clean Metro all over the city. We walked along the Old Port and I felt colder just looking at the water. We went to a museum- Château Ramezay- and spent time in the underground mall. We ate delicious food. French food. Polish food. Persian food. We're so full and plump with food.

And we laughed. Oh, did we laugh. I love laughing with my husband. We can drive each other bonkers, but we can also love each other pretty well.  On New Years Day we spent 5 hours walking all over the city. It was a beautiful and brisk, and we were absolutely pooped by the end. Eating dinner in the hotel restaurant sounded warm and simple, so in we stayed. Unfortunately, there were a couple Russian, thug-types sitting just 10 feet or so from us, and they kept eyeing me. I felt uncomfortable. Then one of them yelled across the room at me. In Russian. I felt more uncomfortable. Then my husband showed me the face he'd make at them to scare them away- it was a quietly mean face initially, and then it went WILD, teeth bare and cheeks twitching. We broke into such wrenching laughter, I practically forgot the eyeing-thugs were there. It feels so good to laugh.

On our last night, both restaurants we still wanted to try were closed. We ended up at a distillery- suitably called La Distillerie- and asked them for a dinner recommendation. They asked if we'd had "poutine" yet. "Pout-what?" Off we were sent to La Banquise for the quintessential Montreal, French-Canadian dish. Have you had poutine? Its the ultimate version of gravy fries. La Banquise has an entire menu of different variations of the fries-gravy-cheese curd dish, and although I can only attest to 2 of them personally, I bet the entire menu is delish. Then we metro-ed our way back to Champ de Mars and had ourselves some vanilla ice-cream with chocolate sauce. 

On vacation you can have gravy fries and ice cream for dinner. I love vacation.

It was a lovely trip. We'd totally go back and do it all again. And I liked our travel approach to New Years. It kept all the hype of the transition at bay, and kept my heart and head in check. I'm thankful that New Years Eve was just one night a lovely long weekend, and that the celebration didn't end at midnight. Midnight isn't all that exciting, really. You know what is? A-whole-nother year ahead of us.

PS: Favorite photo of the trip: my pretending to be angry waiting for the metro:

let there be time

Montreal was perfect. Just enough energetic, and just enough lay-around-time. More on that tomorrow. Before I reflect on all the French accented fun, I want to give 2011 a proper send out. Jake and I spent quiet moments over the past four days talking about who we want to be in 2012. What kind of marriage do we strive for? What kind of friends, siblings and children do we want to be? Its a lot to think about.

So often we know more what we don't want, than what we do. You date a guy who does that thing and realize you can't end up with a guy with that. You do a certain job and realize it is NOT what you want to invest your energy in. You take a bite and know that you won't order this dish again. Its the learning curve of life. And this is what New Years gives us- a moment to acknowledge what that curve taught us this year- what dishes will and won't be ordered again. 

So here it is. A few things I'm trying to take from 2011:

- Don't press "ignore." Answer the phone! I want people to know I care about them, even if that is as simple as picking up the phone. I never regret sliding that little bar to the right. I don't want to be that person who never picks up.

- Take time. High points of this crazy, hectic, stuffed-full year were when we paused. Our wedding day was absolutely incredible, and I wouldn't have known that as deeply without the respite of our honeymoon. Time. Let there be time. I don't want to be that person who never takes a breath.

- Mutton is disgusting. Don't order it. But do keep eating meat. Leaving 6 years of vegetarianism in the dust was the best undoing of long-held philosophies all year. I don't want to ever get stuck in a rut and stop thinking.

It was quite a year...

...and here's to a new one. I'm already a little overwhelmed with you 2012, but I'm not scared. We're in this together.

Auld Lang Syne

Despite my adamant feelings about embracing Christmas for all its wonder, no matter my age, I struggle with New Years. I think it has something to do with the romantic, adolescent years when I longed for New Years to look and feel like idyllic, televised, Times Square. Instead it just looked like sparkling cider in my living room, and watching the ball drop on the glass screen of our tv. Then, in college, I could only picture the final scene of When Harry Met Sally. No matter how fabulous the New Years Eve party, it just can't live up to that scene.

The last two years were spent with lots of friends and themed dressing up. We ushered in 2011 with a Decade Party- I was clad in an awesome 1970s vintage, paisley and sequins find, and Jake wore a just-as-vintage track suit. He spent the night threatening to wear it at our wedding. The next morning we met back up with the same friends and a crew of us ran three miles to the ocean, and then polar-plunged. I'm third from the left with the guys, trying to look like I'm tough and won't whimper myself into the freezing water.

This year we're trying a new approach- travel. Today we're breaking out our passports and hitting the road north to Montreal. It's our last trip of 2011- the year in which we moved into our first apartment together, got married, and went on our honeymoon. I started grad school this year. We got a dog. We paid off some debt. I turned 25 and Jake turned 30. It was a big year. Time on the road will carve a space for reflection.

And it'll be our first trip of 2012- we're not coming back until Tuesday night. Three days of art museums, boutique European shops, Notre-Dame Basilica, and lots of French food. As for New Years Eve, I'll try to keep my expectations in check. Ice skating and champagne sound just lovely.

Happiest of New Years to you! Here is one of my favorite scenes of all time- what better way to end 2011?

enjoy your turkey

I'm taking this week off from blog world as I embrace a bit of a reprieve in Thanksgiving, and then buckle down on some intense end-of-semester, nearly-tech-week work. I hope your Thanksgiving is full of family and pie, stuffing and homemade bread. Jake and I are hosting our families for the holiday this year and we're looking forward to our apartment smelling like all the delicious cooking and baking. I am also just bubbling with excitement over the start of Christmas music and decorations. Before the Thanksgiving smells are even settled, I hope we'll have those of a rich scented Christmas tree filling our little abode.

Happy Thanksgiving from our little home to yours.