Family Tradition
Dec. 27th, 2002 11:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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sythyry's parents for Christmas this year, as we have for some number of years past. I never really grew up with a Christmas tradition, per se, unless driving a few neighborhoods away to the parts of town where the Christians lived and looking at the lights counts. When I was in college, I remember working on papers on Christmas eve, typing away productively. But now I do indeed have some traditions to follow, ones to which I really find myself looking forward.
*Cooking the Lamb. One year, I woke up well before everyone else, and had completed studding a leg of lamb with slivers of garlic before everyone woke up. Apparently, I did a good job, because now it is known that as part of the family tradition, Vicki Cooks The Lamb. The recipe's transformed itself into a rolled, butterflied leg of lamb, wrapped around a goat cheese, pine nut, and spinach crust, tied with twine and crusted with a mixed herb and pepper rub, made with whatever my mother-in-law has growing downstairs (usually rosemary and parsley). The ingredients are always there when I arrive. Amazingly, although Bard or my sister in law often help quite a bit with this, I always get all of the credit.
*Gift Rituals. There are a lot of gifts under the rosemary bush that substitutes for a tree in my in-laws house. They're wrapped in reused wrapping paper, familiar from years of traveling around the family. And I can tell you what's in most of them, without even opening a thing. From us, for each couple, will be a pottery piece from Bard, salsa and jam from our kitchen, and some handmade item by me which changes from year to year. (This year, it was glycerin soaps.) There will be an odd cookbook for my brother and sister-in-law, and one from them to us as well. From them to us, jars of homemade horseradish and trays of chocolate truffles, handmade items from the children and pictures of them too. From Bard's parents, a piece of artwork, made by his father or commissioned or chosen from an artist they know personally.
*The Chicken Game. One Chirstmas morning, when my nephew and niece were 5 and 3, respectively, I woke up first again, and ended up playing. We made the couch pillows into an enclosure, and they pretended they were chickens on an egg-laying production farm. I fed them carrot sticks, claiming they were special chicken food made of corn and ice cream, and ran a breakfast restaurant next to the pen. Each holiday since then, this game has been demanded. The chicken farm becomes more and more elaborate each time: the chickens have learned to speak and read, the egg-conveyance is huge, and the farm has become a chicken run cooperative including pigs for bacon, dairy cows, an organic vegetable and wheat farm, an orange grove, and a highly varied breakfast clientele. This year, we served a giant, a family of six-inch tall fairies, and an enitire marching band (30 drums, 30 trombones, 30 flutes, and 10 batonists). We served Bard in the form of a picky customer who wanted roung toast and square eggs ("most places get it all backwards", he said), and had to kick Scrooge out of the restaurant six times, as he kept throwing eggs at the chickens and other customers. My nephew and niece are 9 and 7 now. We have played chickens a dozen times, at least. I wonder how long they will continue to want this.
It's a true joy to have collected a family like this. I am truly blessed.
sythyry's parents for Christmas this year, as we have for some number of years past. I never really grew up with a Christmas tradition, per se, unless driving a few neighborhoods away to the parts of town where the Christians lived and looking at the lights counts. When I was in college, I remember working on papers on Christmas eve, typing away productively. But now I do indeed have some traditions to follow, ones to which I really find myself looking forward.*Cooking the Lamb. One year, I woke up well before everyone else, and had completed studding a leg of lamb with slivers of garlic before everyone woke up. Apparently, I did a good job, because now it is known that as part of the family tradition, Vicki Cooks The Lamb. The recipe's transformed itself into a rolled, butterflied leg of lamb, wrapped around a goat cheese, pine nut, and spinach crust, tied with twine and crusted with a mixed herb and pepper rub, made with whatever my mother-in-law has growing downstairs (usually rosemary and parsley). The ingredients are always there when I arrive. Amazingly, although Bard or my sister in law often help quite a bit with this, I always get all of the credit.
*Gift Rituals. There are a lot of gifts under the rosemary bush that substitutes for a tree in my in-laws house. They're wrapped in reused wrapping paper, familiar from years of traveling around the family. And I can tell you what's in most of them, without even opening a thing. From us, for each couple, will be a pottery piece from Bard, salsa and jam from our kitchen, and some handmade item by me which changes from year to year. (This year, it was glycerin soaps.) There will be an odd cookbook for my brother and sister-in-law, and one from them to us as well. From them to us, jars of homemade horseradish and trays of chocolate truffles, handmade items from the children and pictures of them too. From Bard's parents, a piece of artwork, made by his father or commissioned or chosen from an artist they know personally.
*The Chicken Game. One Chirstmas morning, when my nephew and niece were 5 and 3, respectively, I woke up first again, and ended up playing. We made the couch pillows into an enclosure, and they pretended they were chickens on an egg-laying production farm. I fed them carrot sticks, claiming they were special chicken food made of corn and ice cream, and ran a breakfast restaurant next to the pen. Each holiday since then, this game has been demanded. The chicken farm becomes more and more elaborate each time: the chickens have learned to speak and read, the egg-conveyance is huge, and the farm has become a chicken run cooperative including pigs for bacon, dairy cows, an organic vegetable and wheat farm, an orange grove, and a highly varied breakfast clientele. This year, we served a giant, a family of six-inch tall fairies, and an enitire marching band (30 drums, 30 trombones, 30 flutes, and 10 batonists). We served Bard in the form of a picky customer who wanted roung toast and square eggs ("most places get it all backwards", he said), and had to kick Scrooge out of the restaurant six times, as he kept throwing eggs at the chickens and other customers. My nephew and niece are 9 and 7 now. We have played chickens a dozen times, at least. I wonder how long they will continue to want this.
It's a true joy to have collected a family like this. I am truly blessed.
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Date: 2002-12-28 10:46 pm (UTC)