Lady P's First Christmas

Fortunately we found the Christmas decorations. I wasn’t quite sure where we’d stored them, as we thought we’d be back in London by Christmas. Instead, here we are in lovely Saltburn limbo and I was poised for an afternoon of baking Skandi-style tree decorations*. But nestled under the ski gear (again, stashed away in expectation of a winter spent elsewhere) there they were.

So we’ve decorated our house, stockings by the fire, lights on the tree, and so on. I was hoping for some wide eyed excitement from Lady P. Frankly, she’s still more interested in chasing the cat, chewing on a doll or playing hide and seek under tea towels. It’s probably a good thing. There's half a chance the tree will still be standing by Christmas.

One thing no-one who’s seen the tree has mentioned yet: the prominence of our California tree decoration. I put it up nice and high and central, for we are heading to California soon and it’s on my mind every day.

Is there something to be read into the relative size and gaudiness of this LA-sourced decoration, next to our vintage Victorian-style Father Christmases, and little European dolls? Probably. As they say, if you’re going to be a bear, be a grizzly.

---------------------------------

*I may not be able to restrain myself from that activity anyway

Small Town Christmas

We were at the Big Switch on last weekend. Perhaps ‘Big’ is relative. Certainly the tree is no Trafalgar Square NorwegianSpruce. And the lights pale rather if compared to those at New York's Rockefeller Plaza.

Still, Saltburn got properly festive. It was more than just a light switch on. There were roasting chestnuts to be had, and a brass band playing – my nephews got to join in and shake bells along to their rousing rendition of Jingle Bells. The butcher and the local restaurateur tycoon were selling hot dogs and mince pies, and all the local cafes had mulled wine on offer. A little teacup ride and face painting gave the kids something to do while their parents sipped mulled wine and waited for the big switch on itself.

In fact the build up may have been a little much. After much festive waiting around, there was a count down, MCd by an exuberant Geordie. TLOML couldn’t understand a word he was saying as he whipped the crowd up into a mild murmur - but he caught up by the time we’d got down to 7… 6… 5… After ‘1’ there was a brief pause, a technical hitch perhaps. Then the tree lit up, and while all the crowd cheered, TLOML muffled a surprised laugh. He had expected more lights, I think. ‘Modest’ was the watchword for the 2013 Saltburn Tree Committee, I think.

After the tree lights went on a small parade took place. First Mary, on a donkey rather confusingly lead by a Christmas elf (Joseph, getting in the spirit? No, wait, that doesn’t make sense.) A steady stream of beaming Brownies and Cub Scouts. Then Father Christmas on the back of the fire engine. Hard to say who my 3 year old nephews were more thrilled by, the firemen or Santa. Suffice to say there was high excitement all around.

In a former life I might have scoffed a little. But in lovely little Saltburn I brushed away a sentimental tear and took a tonne of photos.

The next day the Yarn Bombers had visited, and added two festive knitted figures to the fence around the tree. Like the tree, and like the town, they are small, good humoured, and perfectly formed.

Post turkey collapse

A lady laden with Christmas shopping

The tree by day (it's prettier by night)

     

Whatever happened to my cute threshold?

I used to be a cynic. Sarcastic, frequently sceptical, and prone to scoffing. Even a little dark at times. For example, I didn’t used to want to have children because of the dark and terrible world they will be brought into. Then I met TLOML and that whole attitude changed.

At the other end of the spectrum of seriousness, but informed by the same cynicism, I used to despite cuteness. Or if not cuteness – for who could resist a kitten? And what are they if not cute? – then let’s say I used to despise cutesiness*, the artful pursuit of cute. This would include hairbands and bows on babies with little hair. Any kind of ‘Mommy and Me’ clothing or behaviour. And themed outfits or pyjamas. Like a Thanksgiving outfit emblazoned with 'Mommy's Little Turkey' and replete with a turkey on the bottom.

Turkey butt cat botherer. Grrr!

Then along came Lady P. And she is just SO damn cute. My radar is completely shot by her nose wrinkling smile, her excited wiggles and her giggles. That’s my excuse anyway.

So when a dress arrives from an e-tailer with a matching hairband, I might cry in my defence ‘Oh, it came with the dress, I didn’t realise when I ordered it,’ but I go ahead and put that hairband on her. And take multiple photos because I think it’s so, well, cute. 

Ditsy sub-Liberty print matching hairband and dress. Ouch!

Ditto the green cords she has which are very similar to a much loved pair of my own. Sometimes I can’t resist putting her in a top that’s the same colour as mine. And lo and behold we are wearing a Mommy and Me outfit. Yikes.

Double trouble pink jumpers and green needle cords. Aah!

By the way, I call it Mommy and Me because I’ve never seen or heard the expression ‘Mummy and Me’. Does that mean the concept doesn’t exist in the UK? Or isn’t catered for, at least? I suspect so. Sigh. Cynical, sarky old Britain, eh?! Perhaps California, where no amount of schmaltz and saccharine cuteness is too much, is the best place for us after all.

--------------------------

*With the possible exception of folk art owls (before they were everywhere, too, honest).

Thanksgiving: Post Implementation Review

On reflection, the bird was too big. We didn't mind that it had to go diagonally into the oven, because there was space in the smaller oven for the rest. We don't mind having lots of leftovers, because TLOML loves turkey and we have some good leftover recipes up our sleeves. But even allowing for a bird too big for hte oven and with tonnes of leftovers, we could have dropped 5 or 6 pounds off the size and still had those characteristics.

Apart from that, we thought everything was perfect. Including the Manhattans TLOML made me before dinner. Our guests seemed to enjoy the saturated fat and refined sugar that was laced through most of the dishes. They got into the spirit of the NFL game we screened too.

All in all it was a happy day of cooking, and a very fun night of eating and drinking. It confirmed for me that Thanksgiving is my favourite holiday - wherever we are.

And now, we have this to deal with:

A fridge full of turkey, sweetcorn pudding, candied yams and mashed potato

And an overflow area for the rest of the turkey and the pies

Turkey posole soup, biryani and chilli all coming up.

Happy Thanksgiving!

After last year's indecision, we decided to go big on Thanksgiving this year. TLOML ordered a 22lb turkey (no, really) from our butcher - who literally must have thought Christmas had come early. We've invited five friends over, and are planning a massive feast. In addition to the turkey we will be introducing to Yorkshire folk such delights as cornbread, pumpkin pie, candied yams and hot crab dip. They are a mixture of confused and excited right now. I'll let you know how they feel afterwards in a future post.

Of course now we have a baby and I'm travelling half the time with work we've got little else to do than spend all day in the kitchen. Oh, wait. Actually we are quite busy what with Lady P and all. The very time when one would normally be  cooking - the three hour window before we eat - is exactly when she comes home from the childminder and demands playtime, dinner, bath, bedtime stories, etc.

So today has been all about prepping and getting the place all mis-en-placed up.

Cornbread and sweetcorn pudding ingredients, measured out TV chef style

Cocktail tray, ready!

Of course, we don't have an American sized fridge so our yard and our utility room (with the door open and the radiator switched off) have had to stand in.

Cold storage

I have had a very happy day bustling about in the kitchen. So busy I actually haven't had time to eat. Which, given the quantity of food we have for dinner, is probably a good thing.

Happy turkey day!