In those rare instances when the computer is not in use, the picture slide show we have set up to be our screen saver will start to flash across the screen, bringing up snaps of events in our lives long since forgotten, or put on the memory back burner at any rate. For some reason the show almost always begins with one of the pictures of our niece Avery and nephew Dustin that we took during the wedding shower Ginger threw for us in her backyard. It's a good way to kick things off. Sometimes pictures come up of natural gas furnaces that we have never seen before; sometimes pictures come up of my Baba's funeral; and sometimes pictures come up of B-Rad in a black bra in some nameless hotel room in Ingleside. You just never know. Some of my favourites are the ones taken the year Adoring and Wonderful Husband dressed up as Santa Claus for my family. Every time he sees them, he groans, utterly convinced that his performance that year ruined Christmas. The truth is far from it. Donning a red Santa suit and white beard and letting my dad sit on his knee proved to me just how much I needed to ensure Adoring and Wonderful Husband became Adoring and Wonderful Husband. Reason #256 I married him.
Since we're spending the holidays in Ottawa this year, it's time to play Santa again. Now that I'm a mom, there is the chance I could be a Baba someday myself, so I kicked off the season last weekend by drinking Bailey's on the pretense of making perogies for Christmas Eve supper. (Drinking and eating are very Ukrainian things to do, you see.) And yesterday we put up the tree and broke out the Christmas tuneage, making the transition to Yuletide times full and complete with a to-do list I can predict with 99.99% certainty will never quite get done, because it never does.
Whatever. I'm still going to call on all riffraff who are stuck in the Capital this Christmas as we are to choke down our cooking anyway. I have big Baba shoes to fill, and need to practice on you as a result. To wit, one or all of the following options are on the menu:
Christmas Eve - as close to a traditional Ukrainian Christmas Eve supper as you can get (maybe just homemade perogies that fall apart in the pot when I cook them; certainly a Ukrainian vodka shot to wash them down)
Christmas Day - Christmas crackers with those flimsy hats to wear while eating turkey, turkey, turkey
Boxing Day - Dairy Queen ice cream cake and liver to mark the Gordonator's second birthday
Come one, come all.
3 sweet nothing:
I can't wait!
RS
Boxing Day, I'm yours. But can it be anything but liver? I'll cook!
When your perogies fall aprt when you cook them it is called "heartbreak". My friend Jen and I learned that when we decided to make them on a whim, one HOT summer day. Now we just stick to wine making.
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