Etiquette for Advent (Educating the Universe Part I)

Just finished making this year's Advent wreath ( a day late but I was at work all weekend ) and it got me to thinking about all the things that stress people out over the holidays.  Most of it is the result of thoughtlessness 0r absent-mindedness, but most frequently - stupidity.  I'm starting an "Educating the Universe" series that I hope will serve a useful purpose and maybe render bitch slapping a less frequent occurrence during this festive holiday season.

Advent is the four weeks prior to Christmas.  It is a religious observance.  Do not walk into a gift shop, ask for an Advent calendar, and say, "Oh, not a religious one!"  An ADVENT calendar is a guide for children to understand the approaching birth of their Lord.  A gigundo poster of Santa Claus with a big bag that has 24 little paper doors on it  is a COUNTDOWN TO CHRISTMAS.  Advent (and for that matter, Christmas) has nothing to do with Santa. Do what you like, but get your terms correct.

The color of Advent candles vary in some churches but the basic set is 3 purple and one rose.  They are lit on the 4  Sundays of Advent and  go in this sequence:  1st Sunday  - purple,  2nd) purple, purple  3rd) purple, purple,  rose 4th) purple, purple, rose, purple.   You may also light them at supper during the week, it's nice.  The rose (or pink) candle is for Gaudete Sunday (Latin for "rejoice")   and is a rose candle because rose is the liturgical color for joy.  The 3rd Sunday marks the "nearness" of the great event so anticipatory jumping up and down encouraged.  (Trivia question - what is the only other Sunday in the liturgical year that rose vestments are worn?)

• Sidebar on candles:  DO NOT BUY CHEAP CANDLES.  Repeat:  DO.  NOT.  BUY.  CHEAP.  CANDLES.  Cheap candles melt rapidly and puddle wax that will destroy linens and surfaces.  There is nothing attractive about a candle with diarrhea.   If you purchase good candles they will burn MUCH  longer, drip less (if at all) and save you money.  Honest.  PS - make sure the candles are S-T-R-A-I-G-H-T up in their holders.  Seriously. You would think people would know that, but there you are.   PSS - do not buy scented candles for the dinner table.  ( I know - a no-brainer, but I've been to dinners where the scent of flowery candles combined with the scent of roast lamb to become cause for projectile vomiting.)  Let's review:  cheap candles (tapers, jars, floaties, you name it) are a fire hazard and a nuisance.

So that is Advent 101.  There is more but that should  get you through the holidays.  Our next  installment in the Educating the Universe series will be about the shocking stupidity and thoughtlessness of walking through stores with hot coffee and/or  soft drinks.

Quilted Thanksgiving Wishes

Found this on the International Quilt Market page on Facebook.  Thought it was a howl - have a great holiday, everyone!

 

Turkey Wars

Strap on your party livers, it's Thanksgiving week - the beginning of the "best in eating" season EVER.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday - it's mellow, it is easy (anyone can roast a turkey) and it combines leftover turkey sandwiches, football, and napping on the couch.  It is the trifecta of relaxation.  I understand there are some universal  issues that come up around this time, so I'll go ahead and clear things up for everyone.

1. The toilet paper should unroll over the TOP for easy access.  You're welcome.


2. Stuffing or dressing?  Not worth an argument, either one will suffice.  It is more important that you pay attention to the ingredients than what you insist on calling the finished product.  Purists will call what is cooked inside the turkey "stuffing" and what is cooked outside the turkey "dressing."   What do I call it?  The main reason for roasting a turkey.

What goes in the stuffing (or dressing)  is of paramount importance, and the source of many arguments, family discord and marital stress. Everyone likes THEIR family recipe, whatever they grew up with.  (I have noted this phenomenon also occurs around how to make potato salad.)  It is understandable, but there are entire generations that insist on putting oysters, raisins, cranberries, apples - you name it and  people use it to ruin the centerpiece of the meal.

My husband's mother was Sicilian and  not clear on the concept of  Thanksgiving.   She called it the Festa della Toyko (phonetically and loosely translated as "the feast of the turkey").  She stuffed the turkey with a mixture of ground beef, rice, and sugo (sauce).   My husband adored it and still tries to recreate it every Thanksgiving.  (It is never placed inside the turkey  or anywhere near my mouth, I can tell you that right now.)  Living in New England, there are an abundant number of locals who make cornbread stuffing (I am not making this up) and think it is "normal."   Whatever. Again, it is what you grew up with that makes the holiday.  (Many people grew up with not brushing their teeth regularly either, but that does not make it right. Just sayin'.)

Here is how I make my stuffing:   I wash out the turkey, removing the packets of giblets, neck, etc.  All of the bits and pieces go into a large pan on the stove where I add water, an onion, celery, and seasonings.   This needs to simmer gently for at least an hour, maybe longer (usually until the movie on TV is over.)  I find the hand written recipe from my mother, take out the large yellow pyrex bowl (that made a thousand batches of this, birthday cakes, etc.) and read through the recipe just for love.  I don't need to see it, it is engraved in my head, but I love looking at her handwriting.  Bonus - it gives me a feeling like she is still here with us, looking over my shoulder.

I melt the butter in a large skillet, remembering my mother's hand-written admonishment, "damnit Jo, don't let it burn!" and saute the finely chopped onion and celery until it is lightly translucent.  Then I start tossing it with the cubed, stale bread, adding sage, poultry seasoning, a little salt, and moistening the whole batch with the broth made from the turkey trimmings.   At this point I remove a portion of the stuffing to a separate bowl - this is the "stuffing" batch - and continue adding a little more broth to the "dressing" portion.  It needs more moisture as it is being cooked outside the bird.  Then I hit a sheet of heavy aluminum foil with non-stick spray and lay out the remaining dressing and shape it like a long, thinnish loaf.  This way you can slide it in to the oven alongside the roasting pan and it "fits" the space without needing to make room for a blocky casserole dish.   When the turkey is finished, I combine the stuffing with the dressing and THEN put it in a covered casserole dish and put it back in the oven while the turkey is resting.

I am experimenting with adding a beaten egg to the mixture, it is supposed to "puff it up" but I'm not getting that sense just yet.   I really do love this centerpiece dish,  it makes the meal and also makes a leftover turkey sandwich even better (yes, I do eat it cold.)  However you make it and whatever you call it, enjoy.  Even with all that is going on in our homes, our cities, our country and the world, we still have more than most.  Give thanks for that abundance.  (And for pete's sake, don't screw up the stuffing/dressing.)

Creativity Block

I'm dry as a bone - word dry, inspiration dry, imagination dry.  I'm blocked on every level and it doesn't look like that will change anytime soon.  This is doubly unfortunate because the holidays are upon us and the decking of the halls (which I normally LOVE) has just left me......meh.

I have been trying to come up with something for our quilted holiday village at work. I decided to go rogue and do a quilted igloo (what the heck -  it's a house, too,  right?) but it just isn't happening.  I wanted it to look primitive and sincere but I think I'm getting more of a "what were you thinking" kind of vibe.  I might caulk the joints with some pearl cotton embroidery floss, that might pull it all together, but until I do I'm not even going to attempt to finish the entrance/door block.  It could all be  for naught.

I'm bummed that I'm not in the usual pre-holiday groove.  Granted, there are some serious family issues going on right now and I feel like I  have been hit by a grain truck, but I really wish I could find the trigger to get my hands going on something.   I always feel better when I'm sewing or embroidering.  Maybe I'll pop in the movie ELF - that always makes me smile, and maybe  it will jump-start my engines.  What do you do to get yourself out of  a rut?  I'd love to hear from you.

Think I'll Tie One On.....

Well, not in the usual (for me) sense, but there is nothing like the awareness of the great needs of others to put  your  family Thanksgiving in perspective.  It's also a good way to take a break from your troubles and remind yourself that others everywhere are with you, either  neck-deep in their own troubles or offering you a hand to help you out of yours.  No wonder Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

Continuing my "be useful" theme -  check this out and Tie One On!

Seriously?

The last two weeks have been a hazy blur, and not in the good way.

Dad suffered a  series of markedly down-turning events that necessitated a very quick trip home.  As a consistent target for TSA bitches  I'm not a fan of flying to begin with - much less when the day has to begin at 3AM to catch a 6AM flight. The TSA's were manageable on the outbound flights from Boston, no hammer complexes there.

After a few days of hospital roulette (never knowing who the next assigned doctor would be, ever getting an update on some test results, or wondering if the wastebaskets would EVER be emptied) we ended up moving him to a local rehabilitation center.  For reasons known only to fans of the movie Birdcage,  I have nicknamed the place Bob Fosse.  I spent the next few days there with my sisters and brothers trying  vainly  to honor my Dad's wishes about his health care proxy.

"Fosse" is a Catholic institution that currently has 3 local priests  with a parent/patient currently in-house; consequently the place is crawling with RC priests.  I'm ok with that, my little brother is one of them.  Here is what I am not OK with:  one of them (pretty much a stranger to me no less)  took the opportunity to get all pastoral on my ass at a time when I was trying to pull myself together and say goodbye to my Dad for what well could have been the last time I will see him alive.  I told him three times I was not going to have that conversation with him right now, and that I really had to concentrate on my father.   I understood his deal,   I knew he thought he was being helpful, put he pushed back with a lengthy  fairy tale  about how " your  Dad's suffering is  not in vain, his suffering will save other souls and that when he is in heaven there will be people lined up to thank him for his suffering because he saved their souls....."    and I threw a big, red bullshit flag.

Seriously?  A line of people thanking Dad?  It sounded like a coffee shop in a bad Disney movie.  I am  RC by faith and by grace but what heaven will or will not be is not definitively known to any of us. We can hope, conjecture  and read Catherine of Siena until we are blue in the face but I believe our puny human minds cannot begin to comprehend what lies ahead.  I think it is much bigger and better than anything we could ever come up with and I am content with that knowledge.

Father Get-All-Up-In-My-Grill was shocked when  I threw that BS flag and tripled his horrifically patronizing efforts to educate me on the error of my thinking. It set off an avalanche of reprimand and judgment.  ( I was also told to go to confession.)  He started peppering me with questions, all of which I answered pretty calmly.  Here is a sample:

Father Grill:   Are you married?

ME:  Yes.

Father Grill:  Children?

ME:  No.

Father Grill:  (One eyebrow critically raised)

ME: I had ovarian cancer.

Father Grill:  Oh.  (Evidently that was pardonable)  What is your married name?

ME:  Ciolino.

Father Grill:  Ciolina?

ME: No.  Ciolino - with an O at the end.

Father Grill:  Oh, is he Italian?

ME:  No, Sicilian.

Father Grill:  (Scared look)  Ohhh, Sicilian.  Did you learn to make the pasta?   (SERIOUSLY, HE SAID THAT.    I SWEAR I AM NOT MAKING THAT UP. )

ME:  No.  I don't have to.  My husband makes it when he wants it.

It went on longer than I ever should have permitted and he left the room wearing more skin on his body than I ever should ever have left on it.  I was angry and shaken and grieving - and all at the same time.   I refuse to dwell on it or give it any more time or thought than I already have.  Instead, I will take that experience and offer the following suggestions for visiting the sick that all of us can use:

1. Speak softly.  Noise in the sickroom is anathema.  Ditto for perfumes and well-intentioned  aromatherapy.


2. Be brief.  The family and the patient are both exhausted.


3. Be useful.  Ask  them if you can bring them water, coffee, dinner - anything. Walk the hall with them.  Anybody need to be picked up at the airport?  Anybody need a ride to the hospital?


4. Be present.  You don't need to regale them with stories of your own family illnesses and/or deaths, it isn't a throw-down.  Just be present.


5. Be honest.  Spare them the "oh wait and see, he'll be good as new in no time, " especially when that is NOT going to happen.


6. Be cognizant. It is about what they need, not what you want to give them.

I remember years ago when we lost mom and people started showing up at my folk's house with all kinds of food.  It was all home cooked and all wonderful.  Since there were about 24 of us there at the time (children & grandkids, spouses, etc.) it made meal times much  less difficult. Then, and I'll never forget this,  someone showed up with a huge box of stuff and just left it very quietly.  It was filled with big packages of paper plates, cups, napkins, rolls of paper towels.... and toilet paper.  It was the most incredible, thoughtful,  useful thing ever.  Who knew?  Someone did, and I'm happy to pass it along.  We should all be so useful.  Seriously.