Kitchen Elves
We had been talking about Christmas Day at our home. The birth of Christ was in a humble stable. We are aiming at a Christmas day that also may be humble in preparation.
Dennis made the choice of ham and meatballs, but . . . he doesn’t like the flavoring in store-bought frozen meatballs. What to do? This morning without hesitation I got the kitchen humming. In any project in the kitchen, I like to get the worst over with first. Homemade meatballs coming up, no preservatives. The first item was diced onion. I cry so bad when I cut into an onion. I plowed on and got it diced. The reading glasses had long been parked on the counter and I let the tears run. This was actually a good idea of Dennis’ as these meatballs will travel well when we gather with Dennis’ family after the 25th. I will have them in freezer bags and ready to pull out when they are needed.
We have the most wonderful Christmas tree up. It is 7′ tall and pencil thin. It fits perfectly in the corner of the living room. It was a bit of a challenge to decorate as the branches are short. It is wearing some ornaments that haven’t been out for some time. Dennis was one, that the last several years didn’t care to put a tree up. This year the “ba-hum-bug” has a brighter view of things. I have caught him standing by the tree and taking different ornaments in and commenting on them. Priceless. Now there is even talk of some candy making. Who knew!
I did have help the entire morning. The washer and dryer were humming, the meatballs turned into fairly round orbs and the best of all . . . no sticky meat mixture ended up on the ceiling or floor. Let’s hear it for the older ones. I could keep the sticky fingers working while the clothes was folded. Dennis couldn’t wait, he made himself a meatball sandwich for lunch. He gave them a thumbs up.
I was brave and looked ahead on the weather map. It looks as if the snow wants no part of us for now. Iowa got it. Go Iowa.
Saturday is around the corner and the month is slipping by. Today was the day for Dennis and I to begin pecking away for what we want to have prepared for Christmas Day. Neither one of us do well in a rush and panic mode . . . anymore. One of the perks of being who we are . . . having the ability to pace ourselves. A perk that our children may not have, but hopefully they have it together enough that whatever pacing they can do, brings contentment.