CMC: Christmas Dinner

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

No Christmas Memory Challenge would be complete without memories of Christmas dinner. From the small dinners of just my immediate family, to the larger dinners of family and friends, to the insanely large dinners of the Alberta family, Christmas dinner is the apex of the holiday season. Turkey, stuffing, gravy, potatoes, vegetables you're not totally sure when they are because you just immediately smother them in gravy, and plate-licking deserts, Christmas dinner is just such a lovely meal.

But it's not just about the food. In this crazy, rush-rush world we live in, it's so lovely to take an afternoon (or even an entire day sometimes) to come together with loved ones and just enjoy their company. Whether you get stuck at the kids table where one of your cousins takes to yelling out everytime he hears someone fart (true story) or you're stuck in the middle of a political conversation regarding the current situtation in Northern Ireland and you're too young to understand half of it (also, a true story), it's an excuse to just sit and take two hours to enjoy one meal.

So, from my family to yours, I wish you a happy holiday season and I hope you enjoyed my memory challenge. And may you take two hours to enjoy your dinner tonight without political conversations about the current Euro zone economy crisis... even if your dinner is Chinese takeout for you and your cats. (Not surprisingly, that last part applies to at least two of you and you know who you are!)

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

CMC: Chistmas Stories

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

My dad always had a thing about each of us having a party piece, a poem or song we could perform at social gatherings. Usually, my Christmas party piece would be the songs I was learning for Christmas that year. When I was 12, however, my dad decided that I should learn a poem specifically, A Visit from St. Nicholas. I set about memorizing the whole thing, complete with actions (some where there is a picture of me, with a Santa hat on, pretending to swing a sack on my back). I stood in front of the Christmas tree and recited the poem for all the people who made an appearance at that year's party.

The following year, I still remembered all the words and so I performed it again. Almost twenty years on, I can still recite the whole thing from memory. I hope you enjoy it. (Apologies for the buzzing noise from my computer.)

ADDENDUM: This post was going to end with what you read above but then, I met my stepmom and Baby Bro in Duncan. While we drove up to Nanaimo, CBC radio played under our chatter until a familiar voice broke interrupted our discussion. It was Fireside Al reciting Frederick Forsyth's The Shepherd. We pulled into the drive, turned off the engine and listened in silence until the recording was over.

Fireside Al's Christmas Stories were an indelible part of my childhood Christmases. Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus; Gift of the Magi; The Shepherd; and countless others are replayed every year in the dulcet tones of Canada's favourite radio uncle. I don't know if this link will work outside of Canada, but if you have 40 minutes, I suggest you listen to The Shepherd told by the late Fireside Al Maitland (story starts about 2 minutes in).

CMC: Waffle/Pancake Breakfast

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

When I was young and split the holidays between my mom's and my dad's houses, Christmas Eve and morning was spent at my mom's. After we opened our gifts on Christmas morning, my mom would get out the waffle maker and we'd all set about getting ready for Christmas breakfast. Big bro and I would set the table, while my mom made the waffles and my stepdad fried up eggs, bacon and tomato. Just before we all sat down to eat, out would come the champagne and orange juice for some breakfast mimosas. (When I was young, you'd be hard-pressed to actually find a discernible amount of champagne in my 'mimosa'. It was exciting when I was actually old enough to have a 50/50 ratio in my drink... exciting and enough to get a 14 year old buzzed for the day!)

When I got older, and I had three households I had to fit in* the order changed around and I found myself usually at my stepmom's house on Christmas morning. Waffles got replaced with pancakes but the rest of the tradition pretty much remained the same (except that recent years have seen the mimosas replaced with prosecco). It is such a wonderful way to start Christmas Day.

*I know I've mentioned this on here before, but my stepmom is technically no longer my stepmom. As I say to people when I have to explain why my dad lives in Victoria and my stepmom in Nanaimo: she's not actually my stepmom, but I find 'my dad's most recent ex-wife of 22 years who helped raise me since the age of four' a bit of a mouthful so I'm sticking with the term stepmom.

CMC: Christmas in Alberta

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I've written about Christmas in Alberta before complete with pictures so I'm phoning in this post and instead I'm just going to say go here. Sorry, but there's Grandma's Molasses Cookies to bake today and a couple of other posts to get ready for the next three days when I plan to ignore the online world.

CMC: Church

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

While I am not a religious person, members of my family are and so church, more specifically the Roman Catholic church, has played a part in my upbringing. I have to admit that for all my issues with the sexual abuse cover-ups, the amount of tax free money churches generate, and my blatant disbelief in a higher being, I love to attend a church service for Christmas (or Easter or Ash Wednesday, any of the big ones, really). I love to see the place all decked out for the season with candles everywhere. It's beautiful and calm inside a church at Christmas.

Midnight Mass was the best: no kids making a fuss while the sermon was being delivered and dark enough that no one noticed if I fell asleep in the back row after the first five minutes. Midnight mass in Alberta meant walking back to my grandparents, snow crunching underfoot, while my stepdad picked out constellations twinkling above us. It was the best part of Christmas. The hustle and bustle of our Christmas meals for roughly 30 family members were all done, and it was our moment of calm before the hustle and bustle of Christmas morning.

In Switzerland, I attended Christmas Eve Mass with Michael's family. We merrily stumbled down the village lanes, drunk on joy and wine, towards the tiny 15th century church. From every direction, walkers joined us in the short pilgrimage. The inside of the church was lit only by candles placed throughout the nave. Up by the alter stood the towering tree, decked out with candles and nothing else. It was breathtaking in its simplicity.

As we left the church, we were given short white candles which the priest then lit with one of the alter candles. We walked back the way we came, cheering a chorus of Froehe Weihnachten to the groups of twos and threes who left us along the way to head to their own houses until we were the ones receiving the cheer. Once settled in the house with hot beverages and a roaring fire, we used the candles from the church to light the candles on the Christmas tree.

CMC: Playing the Piano

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I loved the week after Halloween when I was young because that's when I'd get a new piano book for Christmas. My dad would grumble that it was too early for Christmas music, I would kindly point out that in order to be able to play the songs for Christmas, I needed to start practicing now. I finally reached a level where I was able to teach myself the songs from my mom's big Christmas Carol book and it became the staple of my Christmas repertoire.

When I was nine or ten, my piano teacher asked me what my favourite Christmas carol was and I told her it was 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen'. She laughed when I answered why: it was the first carol I ever remember hearing in a minor key. All the other carols were in major keys. It still is my favourite carol for that same reason.

A few years ago, I was messing around on a friend's electronic piano (which didn't have a pedal and you 'added' the dynamics in the computer program, but other than that...) and given the season, we decided to record a few of the carols. While we record a dozen carols, I've only put three in the video. Enjoy!

CMC: Canoeing on Thetis Lake

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

It started as a way to get us out of the house and out from underfoot while the dinner cooked. Decked out in Santa hats and carrying various bells, we'd strap our red canoe to the top of the car and make our way over to Thetis Lake (the closest lake to my dad's house).

We'd put the canoe in and paddle both the upper and lower lakes. Save for a few walkers we'd see from afar, we usually had the place to ourselves. When we did chance near enough the shore to speak with the walkers, we'd wish them a Merry Christmas and sing a carol as we parted ways. It never failed to elicit a smile from those we met. Then we'd stop in the middle of the lake and just enjoy the calm and silence... until one of us got antsy and we'd start shaking the bells and singing another carol.

Of course, our favourite year was when my dad got a little too excited about the bell shaking and sent our pole of bells flying into the lake and then almost tipped the canoe tyring to grab them before they sank to the bottom. We call that the jingle, jingle, oops! incident!

CMC: The Nativity Scene

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I've mentioned my dad's nativity scene last year, but it bears repeating. The scene is nothing spectacular, it's not fancy, it's not even particularly nice looking. It's rough wood frame and glued on moss does make it a bit more authentic looking than some of the clean, plastic ones you see, but in my dad's house full of clutter you could easily miss it.

I never quite got the story straight - my dad either got it before going to Australia, when they were living in Australia, while they were backpacking back from Australia - but the important thing to remember is that my dad started to notice fewer and fewer pieces to the nativity scene every year. If you're doing a nativity scene correctly, you're supposed to add certain people on certain days. Jesus, for example, is supposed to be added after you return from midnight mass on Christmas Eve.

It's one thing to lose a wise man or a shepherd, but what point is there to a Nativity scene if you lose Jesus? Wanting to make sure this didn't happen, my dad took matters into his own hands... in the form of a hammer. Our baby Jesus is now nailed to the manager.

I have gotten so much mileage out of telling people that story, and I will never not find it funny.

CMC: Sleeping Under the Christmas Tree

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

It started the Christmas there was a cold snap. My dad's house is old and doesn't hold heat very well so we moved all our beds into the living room so we could sleep around the fire. I don't recall how long we slept in there - I think it was only two nights before it went back to more West Coast winter temperatures - but it was magical. I'd snuggle under my covers and stare at the lights of the Christmas tree until my eye lids became to heavy.

The following year, my brother and I moved all the presents out from under the tree one night and slept with our heads underneath it. The great thing about the Charlie Brown tree is that it meant we could see all the lights from that position. It created a lovely glow as only a tree full of Christmas lights can.

We didn't always sleep under the tree as we did that year - sometimes we slept next to it, sometimes the couches were just more comfortable - but we always had one night where we'd sleep in the living room with the tree lights on. (My dad would come in and turn them off after we fell asleep.) A few times, we even did it on Christmas Eve!

I ran into an old elementary school friend back in the summer. We got to talking, as you do, about things we had done as kids when she brought up sleeping under the Christmas tree. She had come for a sleepover on one of those nights and now that she had children, she had started the tradition with them. And it's definitely one I plan on continuing with my kids!

CMC: The Christmas Tree

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

We didn't have normal Christmas trees when I was growing up. I mean, they were normal in the sense that they were trees but they sure didn't look like any of the trees our friends had in their houses.

When I was six, my mom took us home to Alberta to spend Christmas with our grandparents. My mom wanted to have a Christmas tree but didn't want a cut one that would go unwatered for two weeks so she pot a potted lodge pole pine. As we went back to Alberta every other Christmas, the potted pine was our permanent Christmas tree. It didn't stand much taller than I did, it had longer branches at the top than at the bottom, and it was never what you would call 'full'. Still, it was our Christmas tree and we loved it. Because of its smaller size, every ornament on it meant something to us.

My dad's trees came from our sizable backyard and because of this, we referred to them as our Charlie Brown trees.

You could always see every side of the tree no matter where you stood. You could reach into it to straighten it and not get poked in the face by branches. You could put on a heavy ornament and it would put the whole alignment of the tree out of whack. But despite the fact that they were often lacking in the branched department, there was always something so incredibly cheerful about them. They never looked perfect but they were perfect for our family.

We stopped going to Alberta for Christmas when my grandparents passed away, and we no longer cut down a tree at my dad's. Christmas tree now means a perfectly formed, store bought tree. They look nice. They smell nice. They're balanced nicely so they're easy to keep upright. But for all joy of finally having 'normal' Christmas trees, not one of them has ever had the personality of the lodge pole pine or dad's backyard finds.

I'll take a Charlie Brown tree with personality any Christmas.

CMC: Making Wreaths

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

When your home is surrounded by a forest, it's only natural that tree boughs play a part in the Christmas decorations. We'd grab the laundry basket and fill it with cuttings of fir, cedar and spruce. (Then we'd go back out and fill it with holly and ivy cuttings... 'tis the season!) Table centrepieces and sprays of boughs hung on the wall would pop up through out the house until one year, we figured out we could make wreaths by using a bent coat hanger as the frame.

What started out as a friendly get-together to make wreaths that year, turned into an annual wreath making party. There was the same three families every year and then a rotation of two or three other families. It was an event we all looked forward to with the day usually being booked in late October so we could ensure everyone could make it.

As the years went by and we became more adept at making the wreaths, we were able to ditch the coat hanger frames and some of the wreaths looked like they were made by a professional. (Never mine, of course, but Alan and Jim's were incredible.) By the end of the day, each family went home with at least two wreaths, a full belly, and a smile on their faces.

CMC: The Red Candle

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

Every Christmas, my dad would drag his big red candle out from the Christmas decorations and place it in the kitchen window closest to our front door. He'd decorate it with holly around the bottom creating a festive window display. For the week before Christmas, he'd light the candle as dusk gave way to night and then blow it out before going to bed. On Christmas Eve, he'd let it burn through the night.

It's to let Joseph and Mary know that they are welcome in our house, he'd inform me year after year. Or any traveller seeking shelter during Christmas.* It seemed a little suspect to me to allow 'any traveller' a bed in your home but my dad also lived in a fairly rural area and the only 'travellers'** who ever wandered up our driveway were held in the hands of family friends who were stopping by to say Merry Christmas.

Still, the candle was beautiful. There was something so calming about walking into the darken kitchen, away from the noise of the family gathered in the living room, to find the flickering light dancing off the counter tops and cupboards. While I waited for the kettle to boil for a cup of tea, I'd sit and watch it gracefully flit between the holly branches scattered around it. It was almost hypnotic, the bright but tiny light against the great big dark world beyond the window.

*When I was older, I discovered that this was an Irish tradition which would explain why I didn't know anyone else whose family did this. (I never did learn why the candle had to be red though...)

**a 'traveller' is an alcoholic beverage poured into a publicly acceptable carrier (e.g. Gin and Tonic in a 7-Up bottle)

CMC: Drinks For Santa

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

Like most people I know, we were a family that left treats for Santa. When I was younger, we left the usual - milk, cookies, apple or carrot for Rudolph - but one year my stepdad suggested we leave a beer for Santa. I know now that he was joking, but as a young child I hadn't quite grasped the concept of sarcasm. So I put out a beer for Santa.

And then I put one out the next year.

And the year after that.

That's how we became the family that encouraged drinking and sledding.

And you better believe that when I have kids, we're leaving Santa a beer. Santa deserves it!

CMC: The Movies

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I never really got into the Christmas specials that most kids did. I have no nostalgic memories of watching Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer or Frosty the Snowman; I'll watch them when they're on TV but I don't search them out and I'm perfectly content not seeing them. There are, however, five movies that I have watched pretty much every year since I was four. It's a tradition my stepmom started and even when I lived in Germany/Switzerland, I found three of them on television at odd hours and made sure to watch them.

A Child's Christmas in Wales

This was my dad's contribution to the annual movie line up. The year that Denholm Elliot passed away, my dad decided to tell me while we were watching this film. The following year, he decided to tell me again that Denholm Elliot was still dead. Thanks, dad! Because I was expecting Denholm Elliot to be the epicentre of the zombie apocalypse. Of course, now my Baby Bro and I always finish the title by saying "he's dead, you know!" which we think is hilarious... even if no one else does.

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

We watch the Black and White version because we're traditionalists in our family. At least, when it comes to films.

It's a Wonderful Life

'Nuff said.

A Christmas Carol

First, I just need to comment "a spirited portrayal as Marley." BWAHAHAHAHA! Spirited!!! HAHAHAHA!

While I have seen plenty of adaptations, the 1951 one with Alistair Sims (again, not colourized) is my favourite. I have watched this film (in fact, all these films) at least 25 times. I am 31 years old. The scene when he can hear the bells ring turns me back into a terrified 4 year old. To the best of our ability, we try to watch this one as close to Christmas Eve as we can.

Note: The film was released in the UK as A Christmas Carol and in the States as Scrooge. It wasn't until we got the DVD about six years ago that we knew it had two names. I will always call it A Christmas Carol.

White Christmas

Is the movie really just a chance to showcase the talents of the four stars with a somewhat simplistic storyline and schmaltzy love story? Yes. Does it contain some fabulous songs and great dance numbers? Does it make me ridiculously happy? Yes. So really, it's a giant film of win.

And because this scene used to make me laugh so hard I'd snort (I don't anymore because I'm a lady... well, I'm an adult), here's a bonus video!

CMC: Kahlua

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

My step-great-grandma - I just called her 'grandma' to keep things simple - came over for dinner every Sunday. In early December, one of those Sunday dinners would include a Kahlua making session once dinner clean up was done. Grandma couldn't stand for long periods of time so as she sat at the breakfast nook, I'd make us all a cup of tea and my stepmom would get started in on the Kahlua.

The majority of the Kahlua got bottled up to be given as gifts but we had to taste some to make sure we were giving people a quality product! The year I was old enough to have a full shot of Kahlua in my coffee was a big deal, let me tell you. And the year I was allowed to keep my own bottle of Kahlua instead of just sharing the family bottle? I HAD ARRIVED, PEOPLE!! Oh yeah!

CMC: Carolling

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.
Once a holiday season, my dad would bundle us all up and take us around the neighbourhood for a round of carolling. We lived in a semi-rural area with lots of small farms or very large lots so we knew pretty much everyone within walking distance from our house. Occasionally, we'd hook Rowdy the donkey up to the trap* and use him to get from house to house.

We'd always sing two songs: one my dad would chose as we walked up the driveway, and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. We probably sounded more akin to a group of drunken frat boys than those professional carolling groups that roam the malls each Christmas, but it was always a fun night out and the recipients always had smiles on their faces (if they weren't joining in with the singing).

Over the years, the area around us became fairly developed and many of our neighbours moved away, looking for the semi-rural life they were used to, while my brothers and I got older. Wasn't high school hard enough without being that uncool kid who went carolling with his or her parents? Now my dad just waits until we're all together and makes us sing to the neighbours over the phone.

Hmm, some thing's a little lost in the updated tradition.

*type of carriage, not some cruel animal-killing device

CMC: Lemon Meringue Pie

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

My mom's Lemon Meringue Pie is legendary... at least in our own house. It makes an appearance at Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter and it's arguably what we look forward to the most. Move over turkey, there's LMP to enjoy!

I want to eat this photo.

CMC: Heisse Maroni

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I've known the opening line to A Christmas Song since I was old enough to listen to Johnny Mathis - it's the song that starts with "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire..." - but I didn't know anyone who actually roasted chestnuts. Most people I know collect chestnuts in the fall simply because of the belief that they repel spiders. (Or if you're me and you're eight, you collect them so you can make a necklace which doubles as a weapon against your brothers when mom's not looking). Chestnuts actually roasting on a fire seemed like an old-timey thing, like sleigh rides, a goose for Christmas dinner, or a quiet evening spent as a family.

Then I moved to Germany and learned that while the open fire may be a thing of the past, roasting chestnuts is still very much the thing to do. I also learned that I adore the smell. Oh, the smell is divine. I didn't actually care about eating them, I just wanted to smell them!

In early November (or when the weather turns cold enough), heisse maroni (hot chestnut) stands pop up all over Germany and Switzerland (and I'm sure other countries too, those are just the two I'm most familiar with) and I'd buy a bag of them just so I could walk around smelling them all day. When people ask me what I miss most about Christmas in Europe, it's the smell of heisse maroni... and buying Glühwein at a street kiosk. But mostly the smell of heisse maroni.

CMC: Christmas Lights

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

Living as far north as I do, the days are quite short this time of year. I know, they're not Sweden or Yukon short, but it is getting dark by 5:00pm. It's no wonder that decorations of candles, eventually replaced by lights, became a part of the holiday traditions in the northern hemisphere.

CMC: St. Nicholas Day

This is part of my Christmas Memory Challenge, a goal I set for myself to recall 25 things I love about Christmas. You can also check out Shannon's memories here.

I know I said these memories were about remembering the non-gift giving parts of the holidays, but I kind of lied. Eleven years ago, I was attending university in Freiburg, Germany when my boyfriend's parents and sister surprised me with a visit. They arrived on December 6th because it was St. Nicholas Day and they wanted to make sure I got my gifts.

The first time I heard about St. Nicholas Day was in my first year of French class. In many European cultures, that's actually the day that St. Nick delivers presents with Christmas being more about family gifts. My gifts from Samichlaus (the Swiss name for Santa Claus) that year were lebuchen with a picture of the village, the best damn chocolates in the world (also from the village)*, and a Swiss calendar.

This started a tradition in my life. If I want to surprise someone for the Christmas season, I do it on December 6th. When I snuck into my office after hours to put up Christmas decorations without telling anyone, I did it in the evening of the fifth so it was a surprise when everyone walked in on the sixth. When I brought homemade cookies to my favourite coffee shop, I did it on the sixth.

So happy St. Nicholas Day! Now go surprise someone with a little treat!

*If you ever go to Switzerland, please let me know. I will give you money and explicit instructions as to how to procure the best damn chocolates in the world in exchange for you bringing some of them back to me.