Flexing tradition...

We changed things up a little this year. Our tradition has been that after a breakfast of waffles, bacon and tasty mimosa's, we all sit and open our gifts to each other. Now that Rachel is married, she and her husband head to see his family in Bar Harbor right after that, so it made for a rushed morning for all of us and a longer drive for them. So this year they came over for supper last night, and for the first time ever we exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve.

All afternoon I puttered about, with holiday lights glowing, candles flickering and the fire in the wood stove snapping and popping cheerily.

 I played seasonal music and felt terribly happy. While I was fiddling around, I made an Irish Cream bundt cake for dessert. As soon as it came out of the oven, three loaves of home made bread went in. I can't quite describe how good the house smelled with cake and bread all perfuming that air at the same time, but trust me, it was amazing. The bread was done a bit after dusk, and Chris and I delivered warm loaves to two different neighbor friends.Then Rachel and Evans arrived, with a flurry of last minute gift wrapping and a lot of happy chatter.

Normally we do a roast for Christmas Eve supper, but we ended up moving that whole meal up a few days and cooked that last weekend. With the plan being just the 4 of us for our holiday meal, we decided to make something totally different. We decided on seafood, and Chris made a batch of his delicious Coquille St. Jacques. Instead of serving them in individual ramekins, he put them in tender little puff pastry shells. Rachel made sauteed kale with mushrooms.Everything was delicious.After we ate we settled in the living room, and took turns opening an array of thoughtful gifts. It was all very cozy and pleasant.

The dogs shared one stocking, filled to overflowing with stuffed toys, tennis balls, and treats. It was Opals first time to do such a thing, and though I tried to take pictures, she was just a happy, fawn- colored blur in all of them. 

Until she lost a favorite toy under the chair, and paused one second to retrieve it. 

Evans received a new ukulele, and picked it right up to experiment with. 

He also got a bottle of Japanese whisky. He and Chris tried a glass, dancing broke out for a funny moment. It was a lovely evening.

This morning I woke up and took care of all the animals. Each got a special treat, apples and carrots for the donkeys and goats, frozen peas for the ducks, some fruit and leftover pastry for the chickens. I came inside to a still and silent house, and felt a little sad. It was Christmas morning and no one was coming over. No waffles were on the menu, the gifts had all been opened. The day spread out before me, a blank slate, and I didn't quite know what to do with it.

I added wood to the fire until it was merry, and made a cup of hot chocolate. The house was quiet. Bravo brought me one of his new toys to toss, and I did. I wallowed a little. Then I got up and tidied  from the previous nights festivities. I put sausage patties in my favorite cast iron skillet to cook. I put music on. I thought back to how Christmas had changed in my life... from childhood when 5 loud kids and many adults all crowded around my parents living room, opening gifts in a frenzy of sound. How the house would be filled with relatives and my mother would prepare a feast. I time traveled to our first married Christmas, quiet and strange, far from home, but the beginning of our own traditions. Then I could see baby Rachel, all pink clad with a head full of golden curls, under our tree that first noel in Memphis. The memories kept marching by as I scooped flour into a bowl to make biscuits, and got a pot of coffee going. I thought of all the happy Christmas mornings right here in this house, and I smiled. I made sausage gravy, and heard my sweet husband begin to move around upstairs. I knew he was smelling his favorite breakfast cooking and feeling glad.

We ate together, slowly, relishing the peace and quiet of our home. The dogs were restless, though, so once breakfast was done we loaded them up and drove them to a near by beach.

They ran and frolicked, smelled new smells, raced at the line where the waves lapped the sand. We took the long way back, and stopped again on a dirt road that arcs up over a nearby ridge. We let them out to explore a bit more, then came home.

Chris hung out a special treat for the goats and donkeys, a hard, compressed ball made up of seeds, grain and molasses. It's designed to entertain them as they lick and nibble it. Usually they last for weeks, and give all the critters a nice diversion from the long, boring, winter days. Spirit discovered it first. Jezebel was suspicious.

Before long they had all had a lick or two.

Now I am snuggled up on the sofa, with a tired dog sleeping on either side of me. I have a special supper planned, for just the two of us, and I am content. Our traditions are not set in stone, they bend and flex as time passes and our family changes. And that is good and right and joyous. My life is richly blessed, and I am grateful for every bit of it, on Christmas and every day.