Let Them Eat Cake

When you're going through the holidays after losing a loved one you may find you are really just going through the motions.  That's been my situation this season, so to find inspiration and Christmas spirit I turned to a great source for a lot of women.  Pinterest.

Nothing says lovin' and promotes healing like something from the oven. At least that's what I told myself.  Pinterest is full of beautiful pictures of cakes, so I perused it's electronic pages for ideas.  I've always loved to cook, but baking...not so much.  There's all that flour and sticky stuff to contend with, isn't there?   And so,  due to my unfamiliarity with baking, I decided to keep it simple.

Next day my shopping excursion was to find the right cake pan; I'm a great believer that equipment is half the battle.   I found a wonderful Nordic Ware  pan that promised to produce two gift box cakes that I could decorate or simply sprinkle with powdered sugar.  Knowing how quickly my enthusiasm can wane that seemed like a good option.

To jazz up the display a wee bit I found a "pin" on how to make plates from peppermint hard candy.  I grabbed four bags of star mints, the ingredients for a drop-dead-delicious chocolate cake (also a Pinterest find) and I headed home.

Once I got into it my cake baking filled the house with delicious smells.  My first effort I used a Christmas tree shaped pan I had bought years ago.  I remembered why it got pushed to the back of the cabinet when I tried to remove the cake, which  produced nothing but delicious chocolate goo. After it cooled I delivered the tasty (but ugly ) reject to near by neighbors who pronounced it delicious in spite of it's unrecognizable shape.  Waste not, want not.

Whipping up another batch of cake, I filled the new gift box cake pan.  As I pushed it into the oven I sent  up a little prayer that this would go better than my first attempt.   It was getting late, and I was running out of hungry neighbors.

While I waited I heated the other oven and started unwrapping mints,

which is the most difficult part of making the candy plates.  I arranged the candy on parchment paper, plopped it onto a cookie sheet, and stuck it into the oven.

  By the time the cakes were done the plates were on cooling racks.  Then it was time for the moment of truth....I flipped the cake pan over and out popped two perfect little gift boxes. I may not know what I'm doing, but I know when it goes right!

It looked to be impossible to ice them, and I thought powdered sugar would be boring, so I simply painted the part of the cake shaped like ribbons with icing, then dusted that with sparkling candy sprinkles!

Once they were decorated and sitting on their colorful candy plates the cakes were really pretty.

So pretty, in fact, that I had to convince my family it was okay to cut them.  At least I like to think it was because they were too pretty to eat.  In truth it may be they were just being cautious because of my lack of baking experience.   Either way they eventually disappeared.

I've always found being busy to be the best way to deal with anything that's bothering me; I guess I have to work through my pain.  We all missed my mom this holiday season, and i know that won't end when the holidays are over.  So....I guess I'll be looking for more projects on Pinterest.   I just hope my neighbors are up to it!!

                                                           Life is Good

Looking for the Past

Today I had a morning “reality check” that started with the search for a wine glass.... 

Last evening we had our annual “Golden Girls” Christmas dinner here at my house.  The (now) three of us had a glass of wine before dinner.   As a surprise, after dinner I had planned a special recognition of this first Christmas get-together without our good friend, Chris Butler. 

As we talked over dinner we remembered last year’s get together where the four of us ate and laughed and had a great time together.  Chris seemed to be emerging from a long spell of illness.  She had put on some weight, looked better than she had in ages, and we all seemed to be in a good place.  We had no idea that she would be gone in just four short months.

Last evenings dinner had a quiet to it that covered a deeper sadness.  After we finished, I announced that we were heading out into the cold to send off a sky lantern to wish Chris a Merry Christmas.  We all bundled up and, after carefully reading the directions, headed for the driveway.  As is usually the case I assumed I had this thing all figured out, and it caused not a little laughter as I tried to light the lantern in the wind without igniting the whole thing.  Finally the fuel pad grabbed the flame and the lantern filled with hot air.  After a few seconds it gracefully lifted up into the black velvet night sky.

It really was a beautiful sight, a heart lifting moment as we sent our Christmas wish skyward.   I was more than a little relieved when the lantern cleared the roof of the house as the wind took the fiery lantern in a north easterly direction.   (Note: check wind direction or don’t try this at home.)

The glowing white orb rose soundlessly as we watched.  Then, quite suddenly, it seemed to stand still in the cold night air.  I was mentally going through reasons this might happen, like some cold air/hot air ratio, when Becky announced, “Uh-oh!  It’s stuck in a tree”.

 

All sentimental thoughts ceased as we watched, horrified and hoping the thing would quickly run out of fuel. (Note:  the fuel lasts a loooong time)  The skeletal fingers of that huge old tree clutched that lantern like a catcher’s mitt at home plate.  I held my breath and squinted in the darkness, hoping not to see any signs of fire on the tree limb; after what seemed like forever it went out.  Demonstrating that it was well worth the price, the thing is still up there this morning to greet me as I took the dog out.

You might think this ruined the moment; in truth it couldn’t have been more perfect.  The three of us went from solemn, to shocked, to laughter in the space of a minute.  It took much longer for me to get the sound of Chris’s laughter out of my head after we went back into the house.  I ended the evening with the feeling that the four of us had once again shared a good laugh…and if it’s possible for Chris to have orchestrated it, she did.

That takes me back to this morning.  After the gals went home last night I got lazy and left the dishes; ‘tomorrow is another day’ type thinking.  This morning I multi-tasked as I sipped a cup of coffee, loaded the dishwasher and filled the sink with things that needed to be done by hand.  I started to wash the wine glasses, and that’s when I noticed one was missing.  Automatically on the hunt, I trailed my way through a couple of rooms before I remembered there wouldn’t be a fourth wine glass to find this morning.

 

The Golden Girls now number three, but there will always be four of us in our hearts.

                                                          Life is Good

The Giving Season

Here we are at the doorstep of another Christmas.  This will be my 68^th, and the first one I’ve ever spent without my mom.  It’s not something I wanted or expected but…it simply is what it is.

As I’ve half-heartedly prepared for the holiday, picking up a gift here and there, I’ve come to think a lot about this being the season of giving and receiving gifts.   The years pass and all those gifts seem to run together.  I remember a small record player when I was eight or nine…a heart shaped pendant from my husband one year…a box containing a baby rattle to announce the upcoming birth of our first grandchild…other than that I can’t specifically remember many gifts.   Where do all those memories go?

I’ve been blessed to have been born into a family of ‘givers’.  I never left my grandmother’s house without what I jokingly called my “care package”.  It was usually comprised of a quart of her home canned green beans (which I reserved for our Thanksgiving table ), and a pint of her delicious jelly made from whatever berries were plentiful the past summer.  She might also tuck in a quilted potholder she’d made, maybe a doily she had crocheted.  There was always something delicious and personal in my package, and I hope I was as appreciative then as I am today for each of those things.

My Mom followed in that tradition.  Sometimes I tried to escape without  taking something home, but I seldom got out the door without some delicious left overs or some small things she’d ordered from TV that she thought I just had to have.  The last two years of her life she was unable to get out and shop; I was first her transportation and, ultimately, her personal shopper.  Still, she’d carefully wash out Styrofoam containers from the meals that were delivered to her.  “These can come in handy for your lunch, you never know when you can use them,” she’d say as she tucked them into a used grocery store bag she had squirrelled away in a drawer.  Even when she had so little, I almost never went home empty handed. 

This will still be a joyous Christmas, because the reason for the celebration hasn’t changed.  I will revisit my blessings, and be thankful for every one of my friends and family around the table this year.  The conspicuously empty chair will remind me how lucky I am that my entire life has been lived in a giving season, and that now it is my turn.  Perhaps I can give the important people in my life the one truly priceless thing that was given to me…the memory of hearts so full they always had something to share. 

Merry Christmas to all…make every day a giving season.