We started off the holiday with pumpkin pancakes, a pretty solidly official tradition for us, it seems, now having been on the menu for four years. Following pancakes there was the general prep of vegetables and easier dishes, a failed attempt to view the Macy's parade online (we ended up going with the Philly parade), and then mama giving up control of the Pandora stations to a papa with a more upbeat and decidedly less Christmasy soundtrack in mind.
She made place cards, with mama helping to spell out all of the ones that went beyond 'Claire', 'mama', and 'papa'. She colored turkey feathers for everyone and placed them on the plates. And any time she heard pretty much any noise that she wasn't sure of, she ran into the kitchen excitedly asking "is someone here?", "are they here yet?", and other things of that nature. Mama and papa are pretty boring, you see.
My dad brought a poinsettia. Something about being given a poinsettia made me feel grown up. She read to her grandpa, chatted with her great grandpa, and showed her uncle's girlfriend nearly all of her belongings. For uncle Marty, she had saved the unveiling of her new trick: rock, paper, scissors. She's a fan of the scissors.
Before my brother and his lady took off, we shared pie and a couple rounds of bananagrams. I pretty much try to talk any visitors into at least a round or two. So, now you've been warned.
The morning after was a walk to town for breakfast with friends. A stop at the playground on the way home. A meltdown upon leaving and then, home again. A fire. Soup with turkey and greens and ginger. Most definitely no malls or anything of that sort.
I did recently buy yummy tea, some of my favorites, and was very pleased when they were delivered with other goodies this weekend. I've all but given up coffee. Regular coffee, anyway. Not because I'm trying to be healthy or whatever, but because it seems to make my heart race and act strangely and so I figured- eh, maybe not so good. So it's an occasional cup of decaf and plenty of tea for me for now.
My grandmother's Christmas cactus is blooming. Just two little blooms, but I'll take them. I wrote about this plant a couple years ago, about memories of my grandmother, and about the connection this little plant gives me.
And oh, then there's this. What a beauty, I must say. I'd considered ordering it for over a year before finally making the plunge. I'm so glad I did. Yesterday we rode it around the neighborhood, trying it out and getting a feel for it. Mike even gave Claire and her friend a ride together, much fun. This morning we made our inaugural trip to town. To the library and back, Claire holding onto her little handlebars and library books and such filling the bag. A sweet little ride to start breaking us in.