A Gallimaufry of Christmas

Full tilt Christmas . . .

From Aileen's homemade spinach ravioli on Christmas Eve . . .

To mimosas, ambrosia, cranberry cinnamon rolls, croissants and sausage for breakfast on Christmas morning . . .

To opening presents with the help of dogs (that's Ethan and Aileen's Tally)

To pushing back the furniture to make room for a larger table to accommodate us all .  . .

To the amazing stuffed pork tenderloin Justin made . . .

To Claui's sauteed Brussels sprouts and sweet potato biscuits, along with salad and roasted root vegetables courtesy the Langners . . .

To friends and family around the table . . .

To a dessert table that couldn't be beat with cinnamon ice cream and mini Bundt cakes by Aileen plus an apple tarte and a 'crack pot pie' from Nancy. . .

Oh, my! What wretched excess!

And Peace on Earth to All!

Christmas Eve

Looking forward to the arrival from Atlanta of older son Ethan and daughter-in-law Aileen, with their dogs!

Aileen is bringing homemade ravioli and tomato sauce -- her family's traditional Christmas Eve supper -- and now our tradition too.

And tomorrow more family and friends will be here for a Christmas feast!

All the blessings of the season to you and yours -- no matter how or even if you celebrate!

Update

This is just to say that I'm managing pretty well at home. John, with help from Justin and Claui, is doing the heavy lifting here -- cooking etc. -- while I hobble about with my walker or sit with my feet elevated or do my PT exercises.

I have managed to wrap presents, scramble an egg for my breakfast, wash a few dishes, change the sheets on my bed, and do a little dusting (self-prescribed occupational therapy.) 

A home health physical therapist visited on Tuesday and I am beginning to wean from the use of the big, clompy, annoying-to-get-on-and-off boot to an ordinary lace up sneaker. My foot has a tendency to swell after I walk around for any length of time, therefore I do a lot of the aforementioned foot elevating.

But what a joy to do it at home, surrounded by Christmas and family (that includes the dogs and kittehs)!  

Narcissi in the Window

To Juan at the Winter Solstice

To Juan at the Winter Solstice

There is one story and one story only

That will prove worth your telling,

Whether as learned bard or gifted child;

To it all lines or lesser gauds belong

That startle with their shining

Such common stories as they stray into.

Is it of trees you tell, their months and virtues,

Or strange beasts that beset you,

Of birds that croak at you the Triple will?

Or of the Zodiac and how slow it turns

Below the Boreal Crown,

Prison to all true kings that ever reigned?

Water to water, ark again to ark,

From woman back to woman:

So each new victim treads unfalteringly

The never altered circuit of his fate,

Bringing twelve peers as witness

Both to his starry rise and starry fall.

Or is it of the Virgin's silver beauty,

All fish below the thighs?

She in her left hand bears a leafy quince;

When, with her right hand she crooks a finger, smiling,

How many the King hold back?

Royally then he barters life for love.

Or of the undying snake from chaos hatched,

Whose coils contain the ocean,

Into whose chops with naked sword he springs,

Then in black water, tangled by the reeds,

Battles three days and nights,

To be spewed up beside her scalloped shore?

Much snow if falling, winds roar hollowly,

The owl hoots from the elder,

Fear in your heart cries to the loving-cup:

Sorrow to sorrow as the sparks fly upward.

The log groans and confesses:

There is one story and one story only.

Dwell on her graciousness, dwell on her smiling,

Do not forget what flowers

The great boar trampled down in ivy time.

Her brow was creamy as the crested wave,

Her sea-blue eyes were wild

But nothing promised that is not performed.

Robert Graves

The turning of the year has come again and, as always, I think of this poem by Robert Graves. I encountered Graves' wild magic during my freshman year of college and his The White Goddess -- a historical grammar of poetic myth -- continues to inform my own personal mythology and haunt my writing. And I still love this poem -- with its symbols and images and meanings drawn from many lands and cultures.

(a re-post from 2008)

The Kittehs' Resolution

Two Surprises

I was one of a handful of reading women who didn't adore Gilbert's mega-bestseller memoir Eat, Pray, Love, being a little annoyed with the premise that the answer to a failed marriage was travel -- nice, if you have the time and money but . . .

So I didn't leap on The Signature of All Things which has been around for some three years, till a friend brought it to me to speed my convalescence. 

And I had to revise my opinion of Gilbert -- I loved this densely layered novel. I loved the compelling story, the lush language, the idiosyncratic characters, the beautifully rendered settings -- all of it. 

Barbara Kingsolver's review HERE is excellent.

Another book from the same friend was Ruth Reichl's Delicious!  I've loved Reichl's books about food and was fully prepared to love this, her first novel. It was readable and fun in a predictable sort of way -- awkward girl comes to New York and, after a makeover finds love, along with her inner cook. 

It was a pleasant bit of fluff but a bit more like chick lit than I normally read. There is, however, a recipe for what sounds like a terrific gingerbread cake. 

Here's a review HERE that is harsher than I would have been but that, nonetheless, seems accurate to me.

Sunrise Sequence from October

These have been waiting in my camera since October 1st . . . I couldn't resist sharing them. . .

Hellebore

A gift from a dear friend -- come spring, I'll plant it outside.

Wikipedia says: Several legends surround the hellebore; in witchcraft it is believed to have ties to summoning demons.

Helleborus niger is commonly called the Christmas rose, due to an old legend that it sprouted in the snow from the tears of a young girl who had no gift to give the Christ child in Bethlehem.

In Greek mythology, Melampus of Pylos used hellebore to save the daughters of the king of Argos from a madness, induced by Dionysus, that caused them to run naked through the city, crying, weeping, and screaming.

During the Siege of Kirrha in 585 BC, hellebore was reportedly used by the Greek besiegers to poison the city's water supply. The defenders were subsequently so weakened by diarrhea that they were unable to defend the city from assault.

My Own Particular Sunrise

After two months of seeing neither moon nor sun, it felt so good yesterday to grab my little camera and hobble with my walker to the deck outside the bedroom to salute the rising sun.

I spent the day opening and sorting the piles of packages that contain the family's Christmas gifts (online shopping saves the day!) addressing Christmas cards, putting away some fall decor, sorting out stuff (this goes back to the bedroom, that goes to the kitchen, (why do I have so many plastic forks in the things I brought home from rehab and what shall I do with them?) and lying down and putting my feet up. 

Justin made a wonderful dinner Wednesday night (salmon, asparagus, and something that seemed like risotto but was actually barley.) And last night John produced delicious pork chops with sauteed apples and onions. How in the world am I going to maintain the weight loss program that the awful food of the past two months made so easy?

And tonight he's making pizza. 

Home, Sweet Home

Goodbye Trees . . .

Goodbye trees, goodbye sky . . . you've been a pleasure to see these past months.

I'm heading home after breakfast and none too soon.

Thanks to all who have enlivened this journey with your comments and well wishes.