I used to enjoy reflecting on the year that was passing, but have not done that in a while. I used to like to lie in bed and think of all the things that happened to me during that day. But not anymore. I don’t know when I stopped reflecting and I don’t know why, but I become uncomfortable when I think back on what I did the past day, or week or month or year. So I won’t look back on 2009 even though several people whose blogs I follow did.
Nor will I look ahead to what 2010 might bring. I don’t want to tempt fate. I’ll just go along for the ride. I don’t have any big plans for the year and am not looking forward to anything important. I just want to live each day and enjoy them as they come and maybe document some of the days through writing or photographs. Not much different than before, but this time I’m making a conscious effort of living each day. That’s got to count for something.
We went “home” for Christmas. Just like the song says. We debated this plan because Andrew has wrestling practice over the winter break, but decided to go because I’d not seen my brother in a year and because Andrew wanted to.
Dona, slightly marinated in red wine.
We drove into Illinois on December 23, just as an ice storm was developing. We had a nice visit with my brother over pizza and beer. We awoke the next day to ice-sheathed trees, ice-covered walkways and ice-encrusted snow drifts. We normally spend Christmas eve with Dean’s family and this year was going to be unique because it was going to be held at Danny and Carol’s new home. However, not only were trees, walkways and snow covered in ice — so were power lines. The electricity to the new house was out and the celebration there was postponed.
Mom, relaxing. Happy to not cook.
So, instead of having a ham dinner at Carol’s we ate mediocre Greek food at Paul’s. At least the wait staff was friendly.
Since we stayed with my brother, Kevin, I thought that having dinner (cooked by Kevin and me) at his house would be the best plan. I didn’t plan on the ice storm. Or the flooded garage. Or the frozen turkey. And I’m a little confused (but not in a bad way) how we ended up celebrating Christmas with Kevin’s (first) ex-wife and her ex-boyfriend.
My mom doesn’t like to drive in bad weather, so the drive down and back was a little nerve wracking for her.
Everything worked out well, though. Jill (Kevin’s ex-wife) is a brilliant and resourceful cook. Too much meat (turkey breast, ham & rib roast) to cook in the one oven? No problem — pull out the grill. Result = delicious smokey flavored chicken breast and moist ham in addition to perfectly cooked stuffed rib-roast.
Gingerbread house
Jill’s ex-boyfriend, Devin, was the life of the party, alternately serving as DJ and practical joker (Kevin is still finding beer-bottle caps around his house).
Mom and Dad had a safe journey home and we spent the rest of the night building gingerbread houses, watching movies and finishing off the wine.
Sometimes traditions are what is needed, but occasionally spontaneous moments are just as rewarding.
I’ve written a bit about Jeremy here and there. We met on a student exchange. He lived in Yorkshire and I lived in Illinois. We were friends for several years and even talked of marrying someday. We visited back and forth for several years.
On one of his visits to Elgin we picked up a clothespin ornament kit from Lee Wards. It held paint, a paintbrush, clothespins, glue and felt as well as directions on how to assemble the ornaments. One evening — the evening before he was to go back to England — we assembled the ornaments.
Now if it were me, I would have made the faces basic. Two dots for the eyes, one dot for the nose and a curved line for the mouth. Not Jeremy. He was an artist. He gave the faces large, expressive eyes. He gave the faces freckles and cheekbones that blushed. He made even added knees to some of the ornaments. Arms occasionally wore wristwatches.
Being the not-an-artist of the pair I was assigned the task of gluing the felt clothes to the clothespin people — which turned out to be quite fun. We pretty much stayed up all night, but the results were awesome.
Jeremy fashioned several of the clothespin people after people in his life. Strangely, I was not turned into a clothespin person. Nor was my mom. But the rest of the family was as was his family. A couple times over.
He made a nurse that actually does look like his mom and a doctor that looked like his dad. His dad was also the hiker and I think Mrs. Claus was his mom. He made a policeman that could have been his brother Nick who was trying to become a British Constable. He made a cowboy that looked like my cousin Bob who was living with us at the time and who made our life a little hellish at times. He made a boy scout for my brother Kevin and a sailor for my dad. And no relation, but a common interest — the lumberjack held a bra (it since has been mostly lost).
A couple of years ago, after a decade or two of hinting, my mom finally gave me the ornaments and yesterday I put them on the tree.
The video below is about the artist L. S. Lowrey — an artist Jeremy introduced me to. The song was popular back then. Whenever I think about my clothespin men and women I think about this song.
