There is nothing quite like the holidays to bring out the best in everyone.
This last weekend we got our tree. A grand 7-foot beauty with one massive ring around it's middle with no branches. My son chose it because it had excellent places to stash large objects. I laughed all the way to pay for it and all the way home. It's a sight.
So this last Sunday we invited our dearest little friend over to help us decorate the tree while her mom was out and about. Bea (as we'll call her) was very helpful in unpacking and organizing the ornaments on our floor. How exciting to look through someone else's life history, particularly when so much of it is glittering and full of snowmen.
I watched as I lost control yet again over our tree. Yes, this is a very debbie-downer moment in this blog. I am a tree control freak and my husband takes time to point that out every year. He accuses me of micro-management. I fuss and fume and reject this notion that I am overly involved. And then, on schedule, I surrender control and feel horrible. Hmm, I have begun to think this is his ploy.
And this year the accusations turned into small arguments, into tussles, into an all out family brawl in front of little miss Bea. She watched in amazement. There is no dad at her house to argue with mom. We were like some strange alien family who took christmas ornaments way to seriously.
"Oh 1978! Look Mr. Coast Guard, another of YOUR ornaments, why don't you find a place for it!" I said.
Bea watched.
"Whats your problem Grumpy Wife? Throw them out if you don't like my ornaments" He said
Bea eyed the 1978 ornaments to see if there were any keepers to score. Any with glitter were definitely NOT going in the trash on her watch.
"I'm not throwing them out, I'm just saying, this is YOUR tree every year. What about US, what about OUR kids." I say.
Bea leans in close to whisper to me, "He's not in a very good mood, is he?". Three points to Bea for joining my team.
"Look, sweetheart, why are you riding me about this?" he throws out there.
Bea looks at me.
"Oh, oh, oh... WHY am I riding you? WHY? you ask" I'm now fuming.
And here's where it hit me. It dates back to the first year we were married. We were wed four days before Christmas and in all the hustle and bustle and joining of families and traditions and travel, we still managed to get a tree up in our little apartment. When all the ruckus had ended and January was at our doorstep, we went to put our ornaments away and drag the tree outside with the wedding gift boxes and holiday leftovers.
I picked up one foreign ornament after another, examining them carefully, breathing in my husbands childhood. His Mom kept him well stocked with bits and baubles from his past. Happy memories he took with him from coast to coast with his job. I had only a few ornaments of my own. I was young and probably only needed a small shoebox to hold them all.
"What are you doing?" he asked when he walked in the door of our apartment.
"Putting the ornaments away" I said as I wrapped each one and tucked them into a tupperware I had picked up.
We had been married for 11 days.
"Oh" He said.
"What?" I said.
"Well, I was thinking, maybe we could wrap my ornaments up separately? You know, store them in their own box." He said this so casually that you might not have seen the dart that flew from the tree and pierced my heart with a tiny drop of poison, if you didn't look carefully.
I cried. I unpacked the box and put mine into a the old shoebox. I, after all, had very few in comparison to him and he needed the space.
We fought. We fought long and hard. I called his mother to tell her what he had asked, and she gasped in pain for me. I love her.
Back to 2009. We have since stopped putting the ornaments away separately. There have been too many Christmas that he missed completely while away on one of his big ships. I mostly handle the clean up and tucking away, and I ran out of energy for all this stubborn doing it just because. But each year, when I begin to decorate our tree, and this year in front of Bea, I am a little hurt. And we get a little mad. And I think we better find some more ornaments just for us. Perhaps, just perhaps, I need to give one ornament marked 1978 to a certain 6 year old girl I know (if my mother-n-law doesn't mind too much).
Chocolate Mint Spritz
Makes 5 dozen
1 ¼ cups unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
2/3 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon mint extract/flavoring
¼ teaspoon salt
2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
¾ cup cocoa powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ cup crushed candy cane
Confectioners sugar for dusting
Preheat oven to 375°F.
In the bowl of an electric mixer, fitted with a paddle attachment cream butter and sugars at medium high speed until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
Add vanilla and mint and beat briefly.
Sift together flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt. Add flour mixture gradually to butter and beat well.
Scoop a small amount of the dough from bowl and form into a small log. Place in cookie press. Press cookies onto cool ungreased baking sheets. Sprinkle carefully with a few bits of candy cane – making sure not to get any on the baking sheet!
Bake for 9-10 minutes, or until just beginning to turn golden brown around the edges. Remove from sheet and cool. Dust with powdered sugar.
Copyright 2009 Meloni Courtway. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.
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