Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Searching for the Perfect Christmas

RHYS BOWEN: Today I am celebrating the publication of a Molly Murphy Christmas book called AWAY IN A MANGER. This book is in addition to my regular Molly book that will come out next March. Yes, I wrote three books in the last twelve months. Crazy, I know.  


      One of the things I liked most about writing a Christmas story was the chance to relive an old fashioned Christmas. Have you noticed how hard we try these days to make Christmas special? Decorations appear in the stores right after the back-to-school sale these days. I see people buying new decorations even though I’m sure they must already have plenty. In about a week’s time we’ll start on the TV Christmas specials—Rudolf and Frosty and all the old favorites. And of course we’ll all fight to buy our Christmas gifts on Black Friday, won’t we? Actually not me. I do my shopping online these days.

            I think one of the reasons we try so hard is that we want something that doesn’t exist any more. We want that perfect holiday from the Christmas cards—the cottage in the snow with the sleigh bells and the smells of baking and the family gathered around the fire, children with faces aglow as they await Santa Claus. And the harder we try to capture that feeling, the more elusive it becomes. I know I’ve tried hard enough. One year a German friend was bemoaning how commercial Christmas is in the States and how she longed for that simple snowy celebration from her youth in Europe. Why don’t we rent a house in the mountains for Christmas, she suggested. So we did. Horribly expensive but we wanted to give our children the taste of an old fashioned Christmas. When we arrived it looked just like a Christmas card scene. Snow heavy on the roof and the surrounding pine trees. The smell of wood smoke in the air. The next morning we took the children skiing. And mid way through the morning the snow turned to rain. And it rained and it rained. It washed away the snow and kept on raining—too hard for the kids to play outside. We were stuck in a cabin with no TV and six stir-crazy children. So much for the perfect Christmas!

            One year when the children were grown we decided we would forget commercialism and give only home-made gifts. We all worked on them secretly—the candles and fleece pillows and bead necklaces and brownies. Then we exchanged these gifts and tried to be delighted and excited. Then someone cracked and said, “I did actually go out and buy a little something for everyone, just in case.” And it turned out everyone had done the same.
            The closest I’ve come to the old fashioned Christmas was when John and I took a Christmas market cruise up the Danube river, stopping at all the little towns with their markets in the main square. The booths were strung with lights and the air was full of good smells—gingerbread and sausages and mulled wine. There were wooden ornaments and toys and children, bundled against the cold, stared in wonder. I loved it. John not so much.  “How many angels do you need to look at?” he’d complain.

            When I think back to the Christmas of my childhood it was really so simple. My main presents were a sweater, a long playing record (remember those?), a pair of boots, a book. But it was the one time in the year that we had turkey and tangerines and we pulled crackers and sat around the fire and played silly party games like charades. I try to recreate that feeling with my own family but the truth is that we have too much the rest of the year. Turkey isn’t a treat. We have plenty to eat every day. We go out and buy a new sweater when we need one. It was the simplicity the rest of the year that made the holiday season so special. In times of plenty what is there to look forward to?

            This may be one of the reasons that Christmas books have become so popular. A chance to step back in time to enjoy the old fashioned Christmas without the commercialism. In Away in a Manger we see Molly baking and taking her little son to see Macy’s department store windows. When they see a beggar child singing with the voice of an angel Molly’s ward is convinced she is an angel come down for Christmas. But finding out who she really is and why she speaks so nicely with an English accent will take Molly from the dangers of the dockland to the highest levels of New York society.

            I hope you enjoy Away in a Manger. Maybe you’ll find some suggestions for your celebration this year. I’ll be giving away a signed copy to one lucky commented today. My early Christmas gift to you. And if you didn’t have the chance to read my earlier Christmas book, The Twelve Clues of Christmas, it will be a Book Bub special for most of December. Enjoy. 

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Giving thanks for the simple pleasures...

HALLIE: Thanksgiving always makes me feel a bit sappy and giving thanks, seriously, for being with people I love -- my sweet husband of 40+ years, my daughters who keep me from taking myself too seriously, my tall handsome son-in-law.

And then there are the simple pleasures. Like the bird bath. We bought it years ago and when it's not freezing cold out, it really is a bird magnet. Sparrows (we once counted 8 of them trying to bathe in at one time), robins, blue jays, cardinals, juncos, and the occasional wren or tufted titmouse, jockey for position lining up in the quince bush beside it. There's a definite pecking order, and birds that will share and birds that won't. Then there's the intrepid squirrel that clings to the edge and tries to get a drink without falling in.

I just whoosh the water out occasionally and refill it, and it's the gift that keeps giving. This last spring I inadvertently let it dry out and there, in the middle of it, I found a tiny blue egg. Some bird, unclear on the concept.

What's your simple pleasure, a blessing to be counted in the run up to Thanksgiving??

RHYS: My simple pleasure is being in Arizona with brilliant blue skies and the sun shining on palm trees and the close involvement with my grandchildren here--driving Mary to ballet class, watching TJ give his report on the bison to his class--even being called in emergency to babysit. It is a blessing to feel part of a family, to belong, to know that at Thanksgiving there will be 14 of us sitting around a table, laughing, teasing,sharing.

JAN: We have a three season room, a porch full of windows overlooking the exposed granite in our back yard, with a wood burning stove that is gas-fired. In these colder months, we only open and heat it only on the weekends, and Saturday and Sunday morning my husband makes the most awesome Lattes. We lounge about drinking lattes and reading the paper -- a REAL PAPER -- not like the weekdays when I read it on my I-PHONE. It's my little piece of heaven and I'm thankful for the view and for having married a wonderful barista.

ROBERTA: Definitely my husband and the rest of my family. I appreciate my hub for pretty much supporting whatever I do and finding my quirks endearing rather than annoying. Though he could do without pets, I'm crazy about my animals so he pitches right in. Even lets our (large) adopted cat sleep right in the middle of us--splayed out like he was a third person only purring, purring, purring...

RO: I love Jan's porch. Newspapers and lattes sound wonderful.

I have very few family members left. This year I'll be making dinner for over a dozen friends - some of whom I've known since grade school. I'm grateful that at every stage of my life I've met 2-3 people who are still there. Who weren't just the people I had lunch with because they had the office around the corner or met at a trade show.

I'm also grateful (cue God Bless America) that I live in the good old USA. Not a xenophobe, but my recent trip reminded me how much harder a lot of people in other countries ha
ve it. Yes, I realize not everyone in the US is as lucky as I am, but that's a topic for another post.

HANK: Yes, I spend half the time on Thanksgiving cooking and the other half crying. it seems to just crystallize how lucky we all are. And somehow--that kids don't realize it, its just another day (with turkey and three kinds of pie) to them, and they won't realize it til they're old like I am.

The fragrance of the turkey when it's cooking, that first sip of wine, champagne toasts, the sliver of the moon, the beautiful flowers on the table, how everyone has grown over the year. I heard my grandson read! By himself!

Yes, we watch the birds, too...and the ducks in the spring. When the first crocuses come up. The first sip of coffee in the morning. When I wake up in the morning and realize everything is okay. Oh, gosh. Better stop now.

Happy Thanksgiving!