We've finally got the hang of this thing.
Christmas Eve is my big day. Cinnamon rolls for breakfast, holiday movies, music, card games, baking. I hit the kitchen as soon as the breakfast dishes were done. Our new fridge had been delivered the day before, and I was happy every time I looked in it, even though it's a narc and reports to an app exactly how many times you opened the doors throughout the day (162). You can lock it remotely, too. Might have to find its brain and put an ice pick through it.
The trick to making a bûche de Noël is to fold in the meringue gently so it stays light and fluffy, be careful not to overcook it, roll it up tightly in parchment while it's still hot enough to burn your fingerprints off, wait until it cools completely to unroll it, and then watch as it breaks apart anyway. Well, shit. I glued the pieces back together with cream filling, covered it in ganache, smashed chunks of chocolate "bark" all over it, and dusted the whole thing with powdered sugar. It looked like a rotting log that someone sat on, but I served it anyway. Cake is cake.
Well it looked worse while I was assembling it
The roast beef and Yorkshire pudding made up for the yule log. Every month I put money in the Christmas dinner budget until I have enough saved up to buy the biggest hunk of prime rib at Costco, and it is probably the best financial decision I make all year.
The elves had a hard time hiding pajamas under all the pillows with people crowding the house, but they came through while I herded all the kids to the table for dinner. By 10pm, everyone was fed and full of eggnog and shut into their bedrooms, and we got down to business.
The kids slept until 5:45am, a holiday miracle. We had two extra people this year; Gavin's best friend, visiting from Idaho, and my aunt, who shipped her sons off to visit their dad. My mom was very happy to sit by her sister, open gifts, and watch everyone laugh over their presents. It was probably the noisiest, busiest Christmas morning we've had. It was really nice to have everyone all together - even though I decided it was a good idea to give people things like an Aztec death whistle, shrieking Tesla coil, and motorcycle bells. Sorry, neighbors, that’s what you get for blowing off aerial fireworks at bedtime.
I thought the Tesla coil was a speaker that made electricity dance to music like one of those cute lightning balls that reacts when you touch it. Instead, it SCREAMS the music at 100 decibels in buzzing electrical pulses and shoots lightning right at you. I was cry-laughing with my face in my hands while the boys played sea shanties on it.
In the afternoon we drove over to my mother's house for meat pie and plum pudding. She knocked everything out of her cupboard, broke the gravy boat, and started swearing and throwing things, so I had to chase her out of the kitchen with a broom and put her in time out on the couch while I cleaned up, but after that the evening went smoothly, and we used the last of the high-octane rum to blast the pudding off the table.
After dinner, Leif and I walked to get the car, which we had parked across the street by the shopping center, and a stray cat came trotting up and flopped at Leif's feet, purring. "It's Baby Jesus!" Oh no. There is a cat colony in the parking lot, cared for by a lady who comes by with food every night, and this guy must have been late for dinner. I ran back to get a can of cat food. Baby Jesus really likes wet cat food, or he wouldn't keep showing up like this every year. In Newfoundland, Baby Jesus was more into whiskey, and snuck in with the mummers to sing at doorsteps.
It was a really good Christmas. We're feeling time run out on these days, knowing that in a few years we'll have to travel to be with the kids instead of waking up with them all at home. I want to keep them all, including the extra 21 year old.
Back to work. It's all explosions and drunk neighbors until NYE now. Happy Holidays, everyone.
