Christmas Season

This Christmas season I’ve enjoyed about 10 pounds of memories. It all started at the beginning of December when my cousin sent a bag of soft peppermints. They are chewy, red and green, and only available at Christmas.

After trying them at my aunt’s house years ago I was hooked. Since I liked the candy so much Aunt Loyce started buying me a bag a year to take home, and later two bags.

The first holiday party we attended I cooked Sweet and Sour tidbits from Aunt Loyce’s cookbook. This is a mixture of sausage balls, little sausage links, maraschino cherries, and pineapple cooked in syrup. It’s a dish that smells delicious from the time you start browning the meat, and continues to fill the house will aroma from the warming dish.

Plain, fast cheesecake made from cream cheese was something mom would whip up to snack on while listening to Christmas carols. I baked a batch and filled all five CD holders with music. Singing, decorating the tree and remembering the stories behind each ornament I get the same lump in the throat feeling I get watching the movie, It’s a Wonderful Life.

Looking at the tree I see a glass ornament Mauri painted for Tad, porcelain Santa heads Katherine painted with detail, a real wool lamb from Tad’s grandmother, pictures of the kids surrounded by popsicle sticks, and a hollowed out eggs my grandmother made 50 years ago. With the ornaments the faces of family smile from the tree.

Around the house nutcrackers stand guard over their tiny domains; the boys painted two of them three years ago. Other items: ceramic gingerbread houses covered in dollops of snow, and huge tree toppers that our delicate tree can’t hold pepper the tables and shelves.

Pumpkin pie is the one dessert I remember dad enjoyed. Normally he didn’t care for anything sweet, except for a small bowl of vanilla ice cream once every four or five months. We eat ours with whipped cream sprinkled with cinnamon. And some how a piece of pie just doesn’t work with pumpkin pie. It has to be two pieces.

We got a gift from friends in Texas, cookies baked with real butter. Each bite melts in your mouth. The problem is with several cookie choices, “Which one do you start with?” is easily answered by “How about these three?”

Like the song, Twelve Days of Christmas, eating also increases as the days pass. After dinner our family usually doesn’t snack, but during the break from school we make an exception almost nightly. And if we’re not eating we’re consuming a meal in a glass—eggnog, hot chocolate with whipped cream, or chocolate milk shakes with chocolate chip and extra chocolate syrup.

I’m still enjoying lots of memories but our refrigerator is back to its pre-season capacity. Just in time so I don’t have to think up a New Year’s resolution involving sweating. This week we’ll get extra exercise while having lots of fun skiing. And I’ll make a trip to the grocery store to buy produce for our new juicer. Got to stay healthy for more memories!

Journey Cake

Here's a cake recipe you can take on your next covered wagon trip since the ingredients won't go bad:

1. Mix together 1 1/2 c sugar, 3/4 c butter, 1 3/4 c apple cider, 4 1/2 c flour and 1 tsp each of baking soda, cinnamon cloves.
2. Adjust apple cider as needed for consistency.
3. Bake at 350 until brown, about 50 mins in a 9x13" pan.
4. For sauce you can cream 1/2 c butter and 1 c brown sugar, add a little nutmeg; then spread on cake.

This cake smells wonderful cooking, and tastes great too!

This was our take away from yesterday's school field trip to Hiwan Homestead Museum. We saw pics on pioneers walking beside covered wagons coming from St Louis to Colorado. The kids walked beside the wagon and didn't have shoes on so they would have them we they arrived. The wagons were small and held all the belonging a family could take. They were leaving a populated area to come to a wilderness where supplies would not be available except from the occasional vendor that passed through selling his wares, or during the once a year trip to a trading post for supplies.

I have a hard time making it a week without heading to the store; the thought of being used to having supplies and suddenly having to "make do" gave me plenty to think about. Seeing kids walking all day, collecting buffalo chips for fires, and helping with chores I checked the faces of the kids in our group, they couldn't imagine what it would have been like. I wondered how many adults that signed up for the journey back then did either-- until they were on their way.

Cutting our Christmas tree

The Forest Service sells tree-cutting permits for November 26th through December 12th in the Buffalo Creek Recreation Area, which is in the South Platte River Corridor, south of the town of Buffalo Creek. We bought our permit for the first day, the day after Thanksgiving, so we could have a picture with Smokey the Bear.


The day is beautiful with clear skies, lots of sun, and very light wind. Our neighbor, Mr. Jim, goes with us and tells us about the area. Driving south on Hwy 126 out of Buffalo Creek craggy peaks of burnt sienna rise above the tops of evergreen trees. The contrast of reddish brown Long Scraggy Peak and Little Scraggy against the carpet of dark green is beautiful. Then I see faces of hills bare except for large black toothpicks that look like heavy 5 o’clock stubble. The contrast of mountains covered in trees and mountains with only soil and burned trees is ugly.

The Buffalo Creek Burn of 1996 scorched almost 12,000 acres with high intensity heat. Two months later a 2.5-inch rain caused a flood when the damaged soil wasn’t able to absorb the moisture.

A few houses jut from the ground with a sparse sprinkling of trees left standing around their perimeter. Perhaps the owners wet down their property as the fire arrived. Perhaps the wind spared some areas at random.

Now, over fifteen years after the fire the wounds are still clearly visible. Most people living in this area had fire insurance, but not flood insurance so for many there was no way to recover their loss. House foundations dot the landscape.

We stop briefly at a park near our destination to pick up information so we can come back in the spring. We see mountain streams that trout fishermen visit. Leaving the park a large private ranch fills the valley and Mr. Jim says he believes that would be the perfect place to fish.

When we arrive at the park to find a tree our focus shifts. Cars line the sides of the road and people are out of their cars looking for trees, carrying trees, and setting up picnic tables and lawn chairs. I thought Black Friday would be slow as shoppers went into Denver, but people are here in mass, and don’t appear to be going anywhere soon.

A ranger asks if we’ve been before. We tell him this is our first time here, and first time to cut down a tree. His advice is to continue down the road 2 ½ to 3 miles until the traffic thins. Two miles down a pitted dirt road is a long way, everyone was well shaken when the line of parked cars ended.

Getting out of the car we figured 15 minutes and we’d have a tree bagged. An hour later we were still crisscrossing the hills looking. We’d find a tree that was ¾ great, the problem was that ¼ that would be a big gap. And if we found a tree that we thought might be it, we’d lose sight of it as we walked and called out to each other to get another opinion.

We finally decided to walk together .Two other families were looking in the same area. They pointed out directions they’d checked without luck. We decided to look for a taller tree that was well shaped, and we’d cut off the bottom. When we had it to two trees we walked between them 5 or 6 times then took made our choice. Tad, Mr. Jim, Grant and Justin all helped to hold and saw down the tree. Then we split up to carry the tree, the tree remains, and the equipment.

Getting the tree on the roof of the car was another adventure. The tree wasn’t heavy, but it needed to be wrapped in a tarp so it wouldn’t lose all of its branches, then it needed to be tied down so it wouldn’t fly off the car.


Riding home we saw a restaurant with a parking lot full of car, each with a Christmas tree tied to the top. Inside we waited patiently, first for our table and then for our food. By the time food arrived when each had a couple of glasses of water and sniffed as much aroma as possible from neighboring tables.

Getting home and untying the tree was like opening a package. We were surprised all over at how even it was—and to our surprise how tall. Tad cut off several feet and stripped the branches. I tied the branches into a circle and made my homemade wreath for the door. For our $10 permit we got an 8+ foot tree, a wreath, a day outside, and memories we can revisit whenever we want.

I'm hooked on watercolor!

Today I went to a watercolor class and painted greeting cards with 9 other students. The teacher started by showing us step-by-step how to paint a mountain scene. Once our confidence was up she had us take a break, browse the gallery and eat pumpkin bread before we started a project of our choosing.

Among the card examples the teacher brought I found a painting done from the back-side of a flower. I loved the detail, the idea of mixing color, and the chance to work with dark and light values of red. During the class I talked with other students and enjoyed having adult conversations. Volunteering at the boy's school I've met several moms that are now friends, but since schedules don't allow us to get together often finding a group with common interests was a gift. I felt a lot of enthusiasm for my new hobby. I believe when 2 or more gather energy is generated and fills those present.

The holidays are coming and while we have time off from school, work, and daily schedules I will be feeding my soul painting and thinking about the new class starting in January.

Drilling

When I met my new dentist I couple of months ago he told me I needed two crowns replaced. Today I’m back for the moulds and lots of drilling.

The dentist’s assistant has the self-satisfied smile and round face of a tabby cat. She squeezes her eyes slightly as she listens to me and gives a barely visible nod.

My dentist is soft spoken with an air of confidence. His build is slight, but turning my head the lock he has on my jaw is powerful. Even with nova cane I feel a little discomfort, and as the discomfort increases I begin to dislike my dentist and his assistant.

Cutting off the old crowns water splatters out of my mouth, across my face, and down my chest. Making impressions for the new crowns little pieces of the putty flake off, move around my mouth and into my throat. Between the water and debris I feel as if I’m drowning. My mind moves on to what it would be like to drown. My throat tightens and quickly I decide this is not something to contemplate.

I change my focus to the windows and the snow coming over the mountains. Out the window in front of me the sky is gray and clouds move and dissolve as I watch. Out the window to my right the sky is bright blue and the clouds puffy white. I wonder if the storm will fight its way over the mountains, or will it be blown away from us.

As my one and a half hour appointment ends I think of the milk shake I will buy. I’m still not feeling chummy with my captures, but thank goodness the decision of chocolate or vanilla is taking over.

Daughter

Twenty-four years ago today I held Mauri for the first time. I’d been carrying a small photo the adoption agency had sent us a month before, so I knew what she looked like. Seeing her and holding her for the first time is a forever memory.

Looking at the photos of our first week together I feel the thrill of that first hug.

Lots of elk

Outside over 10 elk populate our yard. Some sit on the ground watching down the hill. Others mill around looking for things to chew and seeing what we've been doing outside. They look at the new zip line, touch it with their nose, then go back to chewing things on the ground. We just had our house stained so they are very curious about the new scents.




Last week the painter accidently got stain on one of our garter snakes as it was sunning. He picked it up by the tail wiping it down with a towel. The snake surprised him by hissing and spitting. This week the same snake followed him around the house and sprang at him when he gave down his ladder. Our painter is now having nightmares and I'm rethinking my spring photo sessions with the snakes.