Stimson - An old-fashioned Christmas: sweet traditions for hearth and home

Copyright 2015 by isabelpratt LLC

Photographs copyright 2015 by Natalie Stultz Photography

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages.

The Countryman Press

www.countrymanpress.com

A division of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.,

500 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10110

www.wwnorton.com

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact W. W. Norton Special Sales at or 800-233-4830

978-1-58157-328-2

978-1-58157-574-3 (e-book)

For my Hannah, because Christmas really is our legacy

T he ornaments are the first things I would save in a fire.

Now, I am not just sure how I would manage to get them down from the attic fast enough. Theyre someplace behind all those out-of-season clothes, the kids furniture that were storing just until I move to a bigger place, Mom, and all those piles that I Really Must Go Through before I pitch them for good. Once Im past all that, it would probably be a straight shot to the actual tubs filled with our most precious family keepsakes. But that is just a detail. Let us just hope it is a slow house fire. Because, those lopsided plastic bins are chock-full of our oldest and best memories. We are (possibly the truest thing about us, even) a Christmas family.

We are the kind of people who decide where the Christmas tree might go before we buy the house. (Doesnt everyone?) When we moved to Vermont, it was at least in part because it seemed to be the single Christmasiest state in the Union. With its trademark snow, piney forests, sleigh rides, and wood smoke curling out of village chimneys, Vermont was practically invented for the Christmas postcard. Weve got your Christmas goose and the maple syrup glaze you will use to baste it. We even have moose wandering around the mountains and drinking out of the rivers. They are a really good double for reindeer in a holiday pinch.

Winter is long in the North Country. The lights and sounds of Christmas get my people through.

Many years ago, when the children were young, our family began an annual tradition we call Christmas Adventure. We go away the first weekend in December. Its how we kick off Christmas. We eat a fancy supper out and stay in a hotel or a cozy B&B. We wander around looking at Christmas decorations, listening to carols, and generally getting in the holly jolly mood. There is little variety from year to year, and that is just how we like it. Oh, some years we may see a holiday movie, and others we might go skating. But every year, every single year for the last twenty-eight, we all go shopping for one new ornament each. It is a ritual without compare.

My husband, John, chooses silly snowmen and penguins most years. Hes the quiet one, and there is an irony about his choice. Hannah prefers to stay within the animal kingdom. Dolphins, elephants, raccoons. Eli is reliable, too. He likes big, elaborate, spun-glass concoctions that fairly scream, I AM an Ornament! Benjamins choices follow his current passions. That might be fishing or soccer. I tend to go in for home and hearth and Santa.

Eventually, we come back home and cut down the tree. John always thinks the tree is too big. I always fret that its too small. Most years, we are both wrong. We wrestle it into the house, put it up to decorate, and then, one by one, all of those beautiful fragile ornaments collected lovingly through the years come out of their tissue paper, taking their places once more. Back where they belong.

Once the tree is decorated, it isnt long until the first Slovak nut roll comes out of the oven. We bake all of Johns grandmothers favorite recipes. These recipes were her mothers, and theyve been handed down through five generations. Our Hannah makes them now. There will also be 1970s icebox cakes from my moms recipe file. And my own rich winey stews and yeasty breads that can hold a body over till the thaw.

Lots of American families, religious or not, have their own Christmas stories. I always loved listening to the women at our local beauty shop when I was a little girl. Mom was of a generation of women who were at the beauty shop every week, come snow or shine. Well, especially come snow. That sorority of women would gather together and pass the time under the dryer with stories. They would tell about the Christmas that got away, the time the tree fell over, or, best of all, the Christmas when everything just worked. There was a storytelling tradition among those women, who, after all, were mostly the keepers of Christmas. They were the ones who shopped and baked, wrapped and decorated. They did it all as a giant gesture of love in hopes that they were forging memories that would last forever. Christmas was their legacy. Sometimes the memories were not the ones they planned to make. But sometimes those perfect holidays that they longed for actually came true. They would share stories and recipes with one another and with daughters-in-law, nieces, and neighbors. In this way, the traditions got handed down and fluffed up. The torches got passed.

Every family has a Christmas story. These are a few of ours.

Christmas is romantic. Youve got wood smoke and warm woolen blankets. There will be snow and bells. Cinnamon and nutmeg; butter and sugar. It even comes with its own soundtrack. Its the best time to fall in love.

I was beyond smitten.

He liked quirky indie movies, read lots of great books, listened to Ella and Van, and knew how to cook. He even wrote actual poetry. And he could kiss. That just about summed up my wish list at the time. So when my now-husband and I started to get serious, and it was December, it felt like a sign. I was a Christmas girl, so it was time to find out if we really were made for one another. Then out of nowhere he sent me a Christmas card signed, Merry Xmas, John.

It was not an auspicious Christmas beginning, as beginnings go. So I sent it right back with a note that said, I really think you could do better. Love, Ellen.

I was cheeky.

It turned out he could do better.

I got a new card two days later.

That card was signed, I will always remember this Christmas and how wonderful you are. Love, John