Trailer Wife

DAY TWENTY-ONE: Christmas Lights Around the World

Sydney, Australia

DAY TWENTY: Nativity Scenes

Given my complicated religious opinions, I should probably be against nativity scenes at Christmas just on principle. But setting the stable stage and its biblical players was always a special treat as a kid. I took particular joy in placing the wee Christ child in his manger only after all of the other figurines were in place - in the same spirit that dictates the star may only be placed on the tree after every ornament has been hung.

I'm likely not going to want a nativity scene anytime soon... but if I did, I think I would buy one of these:

The Sock Creature Christmas Pageant (Etsy)
Nested Nativity (Etsy)
Modern Nativity (Oliver Fabel)

DAY NINETEEN: Cinnamon Bear

Heidi and I were avid radio listeners as children. Our favorite holiday program was... The Cinnamon Bear. First broadcast in the thirties, it was designed to run for six days a week between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Here is the original newspaper ad for the program that ran in the Portland Oregon Journal on November 25, 1937:




Introducing Paddy O'Cinnamon, Santa Claus' right-hand man! Meet him with Santa in Toyland at Lipman's... and don't miss his exciting adventures with Judy and Jimmy (two of the nicest playmates you could want!) over the air every night but Saturday! Early-to-bedders can listen at 6 and stay-up-laters at 7... and some nights you'll be so anxious to hear how they got the Silver Star back from the wicked Crazyquilt Dragon that you'll listen twice! And here's a secret... the Cinnamon Bear is just as excited about meeting you as he can be.




**Co-writing credit to Heidi

DAY EIGHTEEN: Ribbon Candy



**Co-writing credit to Heidi

DAY SEVENTEEN: The Fine Art of Package Wrapping

I spent four hours tonight wrapping presents. It is one of my favorite of the many domestic tasks we're charged with in December. My dad was a famously enthusiastic wrapper. Because my mom was a unconscionable peeker, he would wrap boxes with enough paper and padding to withstand nuclear winter, let alone the sneaky tendencies of my otherwise goody-goody mother. Using medical tape (which cannot be lifted without bringing everything with it), several boxes within boxes, and even newspaper and small blankets to make guessing impossible, he took great pleasure in the hours it took us on Christmas morning to (finally!) reveal what lay inside. To this day, I cannot wrap a present without carefully squaring the corners, double layering the paper, and completely sealing every seam with adhesive. The longer it takes to unwrap, the better.

**co-writing credit to Heidi

DAY SIXTEEN: Candy Canes

Christmas at my Grandma Schwartz's house always took place on the 24th. The kids would gather around the tree where my Grandpa, a stoic, no-necked military man would don a Santa's hat and industriously pass out the gifts as if they were war-time rations. Once the packages were dolled out, chaos would ensue, with everyone tearing through the wrapping paper pell mell. One of the things I remember most is the enormous jumbo candy cane stick Grandma would always include in our stockings. We would suck on that bad boy for weeks, leaving pink stains everywhere and chipping our teeth.

In tribute to those massive canes, here is a home made candy cane recipe that I'm going to try and incorporate into our (getting longer every day) list of VanLan holiday traditions.

Things You'll Need:
Candy thermometer
2 cups of sugar
1/2 cup of light corn syrup
1/2 cup of water
1/4 tsp. of cream of tartar
3/4 tsp. of peppermint extract
1 tsp. of red food coloring

Step 1: Take a large, heavy bottomed sauce pan out of your cupboards and add the sugar, corn syrup, water and the cream of tartar and mix them very well. Be sure to completely stir the mixture until the sugar is completely dissolved.

Step 2: Using a candy thermometer inserted into the mixture, cook the mixture without stirring until the candy thermometer reaches 265 degrees Fahrenheit.

Step 3: Take the mixture away from the heat and drop in the peppermint extract. Get out another pan and take half of the mixture and place it into the second pan. Mix in the red food coloring to one of the mixtures.

Step 4: Allow the candy to cool. While you are waiting grease 3 cookie sheets.

Step 5: Put some butter on your hands and a spatula. Use the spatula that you have buttered to cut off a portion of one of the clear taffy. Enlist a friend or family to help you and have that person do the same thing with the red taffy after they have greased their own hands.

Step 6: Pull and fold the pieces repeatedly on your cookie sheet until they appear glossy, then roll them into an 18 inch long coil.

Step 7: Twist the head of the cane before setting it aside to cool on the third greased cookie sheet.

**From www.ehow.com
***co-writing credit to Heidi

DAY FIFTEEN: Top 5 Christmas Cookie Recipes

5. Eggnog Fudge: I suggest adding bourbon. Bourbon makes everything better.

4. Springerle Cookies: An old German standard from my Gran.

3. Chocolate Peanut Brittle: I'm going to make this with almonds.

2. Muddy Buddies: Even thinking about these delectable little niblets is making me fatter.

1. Frosted Sugar Cookies: I want one right now.

DAY FOURTEEN: Christmas Cards

I am officially anti-card this Christmas. But if I didn't think they were such an epic waste of postage and paper, if I was convinced that people actually cared about receiving my little mass-produced sappy print of a puppy wearing a Santa hat or if I received more cards with an actual personal message rather than the one line blurb thought up by some Hallmark flunkie, I would send out these:

They remind me of the kind of cards my Gran might have sent out in the 50s and 60s. She was a Lutheran minister's wife, so she had hundreds of cards to write out and get off every season. She had an elaborate system of determining who on that long list deserved personal messages, and kept track of who returned the favor (after 3 years of no return card, you'd be nixed off the list!).

No posted cards from me this year, dear readers. But I will be sending out a (oh joy!) digital version with a nice, long, boring, bragging, whining family letter.

DAY THIRTEEN: Paper Snowflakes

DAY TWELVE: Going Home

Traveling in December is never a walk in the park. Traveling with a disgruntled toddler on a two-stop red eye is something else again. But the prospect of my doting family, a warm seat by a crackling fire, eggnog and bourbon appearing like magic in my hand, and half a dozen ready and willing babysitter made the trip a bit easier to bear.

And this was around 11:06PM. It remained his general expression for the next 6 hours.

At 4:00 PM on Saturday (after 4 hours of sleep) Julie, Patty and I wait to surprise the socks off of Heidi, who has No Idea we have flown home for Christmas.

I will not quote Heidi on her first words upon seeing us (they are not suitable for family blogging), but let's just say, she was really F-ing surprised.
After adding our stocking to the family mantle, we are ready for the big show.

DAY ELEVEN: Who says it has to be green (or even in 3 dimensions)?

Okay, usually I do. But these trees are so cool, they would probably become a permanent fixture. If I didn't have a destructo-tot in residence.


*All found at Threadbanger

DAY TEN: Christmas on the Prairie

Though I longed for (and got) a boy child, there are two reason I would have been okay with having a girl: 1) striped tights and 2) The Laura Ingalls Wilder "Little House" collection. After borrowing these books from the library countless times, my parents finally got the picture and bought me my own set the Christmas I was twelve. (Check out those sweet bangs) I lived and breathed these books for months. I remember telling my mother, in all seriousness, that I had been born in the wrong century.

My favorite parts of the Little House oeuvre were about winter, when the whole family was holed up in the little cabin, whittling things and staring at Ma's beautiful China Woman on the beautiful star bracket Pa made. I wanted TO BE Laura, getting caught up in those wonderful snowy bear hugs when Pa came in from milking the cows. To this day, I think I was probably a farmer in a former life.





Here is my favorite Christmas passage, from Little House in the Big Woods.

In each stocking there was a pair of bright red mitten, and there was a long, flat stick of red-and-white-striped peppermint candy, all beautifully notched along each side. They were all so happy they could hardly speak at first. They just looked with shining eyes at those lovely Christmas presents. But Laura was happiest of all. Laura had a rag doll.

She was a beautiful doll. She had a face of white cloth with black button eyes. A black pencil had made her eyebrows, and her checks and her mouth were red with the ink made from pokeberries. Her hair was black yard that had been knit and raveled so that it was curly. She had little red flannel stockings and little black cloth gaiters for shoes, and her dress was pretty pink and blue calico. She was so beautiful that Laura could not say a word. She just held her tight and forgot everything else.

DAY NINE: Being in the Mall

Seems crazy, I know. And it's not something I love to do if I actually have to get stuff accomplished. But to stroll through the mall at Christmas time makes me a little giddy. The blaring music, perpetual smell of cinnamon rolls, milling crowds of people (mostly) in a good mood. I think a kind of group hysteria overcomes these kinds of crowds, or maybe hypnosis is a better term. When the feel of cashmere or a whiff of designer perfume can send you straight into euphoric spending fits.

Needless to say, there are no malls in Fairbanks. The closest I get is strolling through Fred Meyers every afternoon. While sipping a Starbucks and analyzing shelves full of soup or some such, I pretend I am at Washington Square, meandering through Nordstrom, shopping for boots. Sometimes it works.

DAY Eight: Top Five Favorite Holiday Albums

5. Various Artists, "A Very Special Christmas" (1989)
















4. The Chipmunks, "Christmas with the Chipmunks" (1962)
















3. Frank Sinatra, "A Jolly Christmas" (1957)
















2. Vince Guaraldi Trio, "A Charlie Brown Christmas" (1965)
















1. Bing Crosby, "White Christmas" (1945)

Gusser @ 15 months: 27 pounds, 34 inches

Current Nicknames:
Butch
Kublai Khan
Bebop
Skeletor
Busser
Brad (due to frat boy haircut)
Sonny Crocket












Words:
Mommy (screamed over and over whenever in public places)
Daddy
Puppy (his fav)
Hah = hot
Hah-dee = Heidi
Bat = bath
Me (also mostly screamed)
Gimme = Hand it over this instant
Dammi = yep, pretty sure that's Dammit. My bad.
Bah = Bye, said only once in a very stylish way (no baby "bye bye's" for this kid)
Dooce = juice
Dis = Let me examine that by putting it into my mouth
Ooooh = That is incredible
Bobby = pacifier, blankie, beloved toy of the moment

Sophie - his favorite since birth. A gift from France from Auntie Heidi

Caterpillar rattle. He has actually sucked off most of the paint. Good thing it's organic. A gift from Godmum Amanda

The Pres. Gus loves to chew poor Barry's head. From his stocking last Christmas.

Rawr the Roaring Imp. Gus can imitate his electronic snarl perfectly. A birthday gift from Auntie Heidi.

Homey the Elephant. Almost every morning Gus points from his crib to the place in his room where Homey lives, as if to say, "keep it real, homey." A handmade gift from Auntie Amy.

DAY SIX: Egg to the Nog

Eggnog is not a gray-area beverage. Much like Marmite, cilantro and foie gras (hate, love, hate), you either love it or hate it. I've seen many a holiday gathering divided by bitter feuds concerning this delicious dairy product. And for those of you out there who are decidedly NO on Nog, I beg you to reconsider. If, after trying the following, you aren't pining for eggnog lattes by Halloween, I'll eat a few teaspoons of Marmite.

1. Add ice: seems strange, but ice actually breaks up the viscosity of nog (or phlegm-ade as one articulate friend put it) and allows you to enjoy the unique flavor without feeling congested.

2. Sans nutmeg: I find that many people overseason nog with copious amounts of nutmeg (Starbucks, I'm looking at you). Ask the barista to leave it out and I bet you'll notice a big difference.

3. When all else fails, add Bourbon: or Scotch, if that's what you have (ahem). I'm a big fan of the plain old Lucerne Lite Eggnog found in the milk case of most grocery stores. But be prepared - it has a tendency to sell out at very inopportune times. Try making it at home! The best recipe I've tried calls for the following...

Holiday Nog (8 servings)
4 fresh eggs, separated
1/2 cup sugar, divided into 2 parts
1/2 cup white rum
1 1/2 cups milk (I use 2%)
1 1/2 cups Whiskey (Bourbon is best)
1 cup heavy whipping cream, divided into two parts
Ground nutmeg (for presentation)

1. Separate eggs into yolks and whites in separate bowls. I put the whites into the mixer and the yolks into another bowl.
2. Beat egg-yolks with 1/2 of sugar, set aside.
3. Beat egg-whites until stiff, then mix in other 1/2 of sugar.
4. Pour the yolks into the whites and mix together slowly.
5. Stir in white rum slowly. I've tried dark rum and it works.
6. Stir in milk slowly.
7. Stir in whiskey slowly
   
8. Stir in 1/2 of cream slowly
9. Whip rest (1/2) of cream and fold in carefully.
10. Serve at room temperature by ladling the eggnog into glasses and sprinkle nutmeg on the top.
    

DAY FIVE: In support of Fat Bulbs

Yes, they use way more electricity and can burn holes through plastic. But in my book, fat bulbs are the only way to go. For my dad, proper bulb placement was an art form. He would start with at least five or six strings of fat bulbs, spend two or three hours draping them perfectly, and then layer on one accent string of white mini bulbs. It gave the tree a perfect balance of color and twinkle. Add popcorn strings (which must be carefully placed so as not to combust), ornaments, and a star for the top (no angels allowed), and you've got yourself the perfect tree.

FYI - Tinsel, flocking and plastic garlands are Christmas Tree Abominations.

DAY FOUR: My favorite Christmas Movies

(I'm intentionally omitting A Christmas Story, It's a Wonderful Life, and Miracle on 34th Street because there is just no competition)

5. Scrooged, 1988
Perhaps my favorite element of this movie is the character Ghost of Christmas Present, played by the wonderful Carol Kane, whose fluting, baby-girl voice is measured only by the severe ass-kickings she doles out. But it is pure Ghostbusters-era genius from Murray who has makes it an indisputable classic.








4. One Magic Christmas, 1985
This one is straight from my childhood. Aired as a movie of the week on CBS, this is a loose retelling of The Christmas Carol (which I guess was popular in the 80s, a la Murray), with Mary Steenburgen in the Scrooge roll. It's got it all: Christmas angels, the letter to Santa that brings the main man to their doorstep, tinkling special effects... how can you resist? Whenever I watch this movie I am instantly transported to the brown davenport of my youth, where Heidi and I sat stringing popcorn and fresh cranberries for hours.






3. Gremlins, 1984
How scary was this movie back when it first came out?? I still have Gremlin-in-the-microwave nightmares. Not to mention, the thought of anyone's dad actually, literally, coming down the chimney gives me the shakes (remember how that guy's dad got stuck and died? Shudder). But I am defenseless against Gizmo's cuteness.








4. Elf, 2003
Though I've seen this movie maybe once, I feel like I know it through Amy Simmons (Hi Dirty) for whom this movie provides daily entertainment. A couple of choice quotes:

"We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup."

"First we'll make snow angels for a two hours, then we'll go ice skating, then we'll eat a whole roll of Tollhouse Cookiedough as fast as we can, and then we'll snuggle."




1. The Family Stone, 2005
It's true... the script is not perfect, the plot a little far-fetched, the gimmicks all overdone... but seriously, this is some of the most delicious character-driven acting of any Christmas movie out there. The casting is superb, the artistic direction spot-on. It makes me want to have five kids, move to upstate New York and age gracefully. Heidi and I saw this separately... she was in South Korea and I was in Corvallis, but it remains our favorite movie to watch together.

It was a big night for Oregon alumni - both Ducks and Beavers. The 2009 Civil War had pretty high stakes - a ticket to Pasadena and the Rose Bowl for the winners, and a lackluster trip to Vegas for the losers.

Watching the game tonight (Sam declared he would be unable to move from the couch for the duration of the game, a not so subtle hint that Gus and I would be on our own), I was struck with this concept of winning and losing. In my entire athletic career, I have never been a winner. That is not to say that I didn't win games - because I did. The Lebanon High School Warriors came within a few games every year of the State Tournament, even making it to the finals the year I graduated. And my one year of junior college volleyball had a similar season. What I've never experienced is that final win - the one that defines the effort, bolsters bragging rights, stamps you with an inexplicable confidence that lingers long after the match has been called.

I've always sort of assumed that those wins, the defining ones, are reserved for the elite. And let's face it, the Beavers have always been scrappers (despite Oregon's Blount, thug in residence) and the Ducks have always been rather coddled if you ask me. And although you long desperately, almost romantically, for the underdog to win (Boise State over OK in 2007 comes to mind) there is a reason why this is exceptional. It's because they almost never do.

And that's what makes me think there is something to the crazy sports psychology thrown around among Phil Knight's disciples and the like. To win, you must first convince yourself that you are a winner. You must espouse a kind of arrogance that claims victory in spite of the obstacles, not because of them, truly believe in your inherent superiority, and, in a word, walk the proverbial walk.

My point? To be a successful writer, I think, one must couch the customary, self-deprecating pomp of the artist. I'm beginning to think that if I start to work with my all-business, left-brain sensibility, I might see better results. If I channel a little more Joyce Carol Oates (gagging a little here) and a little less yet-to-be-discovered ingenue, it could be that my output will not only increase, but that my creative perspective shifts as well. As much as I would like to live, eat and breath art for art's sake, I'm at a point where life is actually happening, intruding, interjecting at every turn. Diapers must be changed. Floors must be swept of flung green beans. Minimum payments must be made.

So I think I've decided to do the MFA. But I am determined to do it purposefully, with a specific goal in mind, without wasting any time on image-improvement, gut-level strategies, or feeding that damned underdog.

(No offense, Beavs.)

DAY THREE: Peacock Lane, Portland Oregon

DAY TWO: Salt Dough Ornaments

In my childhood home, Christmas was a big deal. Most years, my dad found the biggest tree money could buy the day after Thanksgiving and would keep it up well into January. I'll never forget how he would turn off all the lights, fire up the many strings of bulbs, and put on some Bing. We would just lay around on the floor, gazing up at the majestic display in penitent awe.

But there were some years that were leaner than others. The way I remember it (Mom might correct me here) there was one year when we couldn't afford a tree. So my mom pulled out the construction paper and scissors, snipped out a tree, and stapled it to the wall. How cute is that! We strung up some garland and used thumbtacks for the ornaments. As a special treat, Mom let us make salt dough ornaments that year, which we baked and painted at the dining room table. We kept those ornaments for years - long after they began to crumble and fade. What they meant to us, it seems to me now, held far greater value than that one missing tree.

So... when Heidi and Greg visited for an early Thanksgiving this year, I decided that it was high time we reprise the tradition. With a lonely (at least as far as family goes) Christmas to look forward to this year, I loved the idea of having a few doughy buddies to share it with.

Here's how to do it:

What you'll need:

How to make it:

1. Preheat the oven to 250 degrees F.
2. Mix together, salt, flour, and water until dough is formed.
3. Knead the dough on a floured surface until the mixture is elastic and smooth. If dough is too sticky, sprinkle with flour, continue to do so until stickiness is gone. Do not add too much flour, this will dry out the dough and will cause it to crack before you get a chance to bake it.
4. Roll out the dough to about ¼” thick with a rolling pin that has been dusted with flour.
5. Use cookie cutters to cut out as many trees and stars as you want.
6. Use a small straw to make a hole toward the top of the shape.
7. Place all shapes onto an ungreased cookie sheet and place into the preheated oven.
8. Bake for 2 hours.
9. Remove from oven and allow to cool completely.
10. Paint the ornaments.
11. Use the handle end of the paint brush to dot on ornaments by dipping into paint then dotting onto ornament.
12. When paint is dry, use glitter glue (we used green) or glitter paint (we used gold) to put a sparkling cover coat on your ornaments. You could also spray the ornaments with a coat of Acrylic sealing spray.
13. When dry, thread ribbon through hole and tie in a knot in the back.