Item: The older car's been making a funny rattle which had been thought to be due to recent ridiculously sub-normal temperatures. Turns out? Water pump. Undriveable for now, part in transit, work to commence at some unspecified point in the near future.
Item: The newer car (newer being relative; it's a 2001 model year) started smoldering on the much-dreaded Route 202S last night. The summoned brother-in-law, a fireman, grinned while delivering the news, "Yep. Your car is burning." New oxygen sensors, at minimum, required. Work to commence at some unspecified point in the near future.
Consequences: Behind on laundry, dishes, errands, packing, wrapping, sewing and canning. Gift posts coming, and I mean it this time, after the holiday. For those of you in countries without a holiday this week (lots of referrals from Uzbekistan lately - hi Uzbekistan!) and have no idea of what I am speaking this means, more or less, that I'll start posting again on Sunday.
Until then, amuse yourself with cranberry chutney or making your own relish tray or otherwise having a splendid week. As for me, the kids and I are outta here. I have tons for which to be thankful and I may as well start now.
Blood Drive
The spiced honey post is being delayed just a bit because a friend-related emergency has arisen which requires my complete attention and a small amount of time (which nonetheless interferes with canning ops). My friend is, I feel compelled to note, rational, mature, intelligent and even-keeled.
She also wants to see Twilight. Tonight. At midnight. Not alone.
When a friend needs me, who am I to turn away? Sure, we both have to parent and work tomorrow and we both have Saturdays that look terrifying on paper. But we both also like a little vampire lurve (she specifically with these characters, with which I have no experience) so why not? It's not like opportunities to recapture one's youth come 'round every day.
I haven't been to a movie theater since the first Harry Potter film which I think was, what?, 2001 or something? I scarcely know how to act in a theater anymore since they got indoor plumbing.
Wish me luck.
She also wants to see Twilight. Tonight. At midnight. Not alone.
When a friend needs me, who am I to turn away? Sure, we both have to parent and work tomorrow and we both have Saturdays that look terrifying on paper. But we both also like a little vampire lurve (she specifically with these characters, with which I have no experience) so why not? It's not like opportunities to recapture one's youth come 'round every day.
I haven't been to a movie theater since the first Harry Potter film which I think was, what?, 2001 or something? I scarcely know how to act in a theater anymore since they got indoor plumbing.
Wish me luck.
Eighteen with Twenty-Two Years Experience
On December 31 - a mere 42 days from today - I will celebrate observe experience my 40th birthday. Despite my natural inclination to draw attention to myself and insist upon adoration and fealty from all who cross my path on that sacred day, I suspect that this year might be significantly quieter than past such events.
In my youth a New Year's Eve birthday was splendid. I never had to go to school on my birthday and friends were almost always home to attend an afternoon party. When I grew up enough for sleepovers, my friends' parents were only too delighted to send their darlings to my house clearing their own out for duration. In still later years I enjoyed a surfeit of entertainment options and always had a date (or two) at the ready to assist with whatever celebrations came my way. I rarely had to organize anything because the world (well, my world) was only too happy to thrust merriment upon me and cook up outrageous fun on my behalf. This delightful truth held until recent years.
These days I have only one date in the form of Brainiac, a wonderful man who'd really rather not bother with the whole thing at all and in the process throws the baby of my birthday out with the New Year's Eve bathwater. If we go anywhere we're the couple that bugs out around 11 p.m. so that he can be home safe and sound and in pajamas before counting down of any kind begins. If we stay home he's zonked well before Barry Manilow ever takes the stage.
Getting together with friends can also be tricky. Some have established traditions, spending the holiday with other friends or family or a set combination of both. Others travel, making a point to be somewhere besides cold and grey southeast Pennsylvania. Many of my friends have children and there simply are not enough babysitters to go around while a kid-friendly party does little to thrill those friends who don't share their daily lives with younger folk. What to do?
I've decided that I need an Official Birthday. You know, like Queen Elizabeth? She has a day for celebration - Trooping the Color? How fantastic is that? - entirely separate from the actual day on which she was born. I've long thought that if it's good (key word being "good") for Queen Elizabeth, it's good for me. So with that in mind, I need a day when 1) there is little chance of mass public drunkenness, thereby enticing Brainiac to activity, 2) the weather is likely to be good, 3) friends are inclined to be in town and available. Brainiac's birthday is in May and almost always coincides with the long Memorial Day weekend and my first thought was perhaps to tie my Official Birthday to Labor Day, thus book ending summer nicely. But darn near everyone we know locally takes off to the beach or the mountains for Labor Day, in clear violation of requirement number 3. So maybe the Saturday after Labor Day? Or perhaps the one before? Mid-October is good, too.
This is going to require some thought. Although I am not really sad about turning 40 or finding it particularly problematic, buying myself another nine or ten months before the event is, well, official is kind of nifty. I'll even make it easy by not demanding my very own parade.
In my youth a New Year's Eve birthday was splendid. I never had to go to school on my birthday and friends were almost always home to attend an afternoon party. When I grew up enough for sleepovers, my friends' parents were only too delighted to send their darlings to my house clearing their own out for duration. In still later years I enjoyed a surfeit of entertainment options and always had a date (or two) at the ready to assist with whatever celebrations came my way. I rarely had to organize anything because the world (well, my world) was only too happy to thrust merriment upon me and cook up outrageous fun on my behalf. This delightful truth held until recent years.
These days I have only one date in the form of Brainiac, a wonderful man who'd really rather not bother with the whole thing at all and in the process throws the baby of my birthday out with the New Year's Eve bathwater. If we go anywhere we're the couple that bugs out around 11 p.m. so that he can be home safe and sound and in pajamas before counting down of any kind begins. If we stay home he's zonked well before Barry Manilow ever takes the stage.
Getting together with friends can also be tricky. Some have established traditions, spending the holiday with other friends or family or a set combination of both. Others travel, making a point to be somewhere besides cold and grey southeast Pennsylvania. Many of my friends have children and there simply are not enough babysitters to go around while a kid-friendly party does little to thrill those friends who don't share their daily lives with younger folk. What to do?
I've decided that I need an Official Birthday. You know, like Queen Elizabeth? She has a day for celebration - Trooping the Color? How fantastic is that? - entirely separate from the actual day on which she was born. I've long thought that if it's good (key word being "good") for Queen Elizabeth, it's good for me. So with that in mind, I need a day when 1) there is little chance of mass public drunkenness, thereby enticing Brainiac to activity, 2) the weather is likely to be good, 3) friends are inclined to be in town and available. Brainiac's birthday is in May and almost always coincides with the long Memorial Day weekend and my first thought was perhaps to tie my Official Birthday to Labor Day, thus book ending summer nicely. But darn near everyone we know locally takes off to the beach or the mountains for Labor Day, in clear violation of requirement number 3. So maybe the Saturday after Labor Day? Or perhaps the one before? Mid-October is good, too.
This is going to require some thought. Although I am not really sad about turning 40 or finding it particularly problematic, buying myself another nine or ten months before the event is, well, official is kind of nifty. I'll even make it easy by not demanding my very own parade.
Seeing Stars
Although I posted that I'd be making the White Wine-Sage Mustard next, I've had so many e-mails looking for the spiced honey that I'm going to put that up this week and save the mustard for the the first week in December. I've actually been a little afraid of the honey idea - honey being so sticky and hard to control - and I'm glad that the interest is there to keep me on task. I'm going to make two kinds; one with cinnamon and clove and one with star anise. Both are insanely delicious, really not at all hard to make (stickiness aside) and wonderful to give (or not). Watch for the honey post by the end of the day Thursday.
In the meantime, I've been also trying to finish up some crafty gifts in time for my Thanksgiving trip to Buffalo. The kids and I are heading up for the long weekend and I'm very keen to be able to have all the presents wrapped and ready to go. I'm way more organized this year than in the last few and that makes all the difference between good intentions and actual gift production. Being organized! I'm amazed someone didn't think of it sooner.
We'll be arriving back from the trip up north on the first day of Advent and in the spirit of organization I'm putting together plans for the activities and projects that truly add to our observance and am being very bold about declining to participate in engagements that would diminish our enjoyment of the season. The short list so far includes a nice balance of private reflection and friendly togetherness with people I don't see nearly enough. I've decided this year not to have a big gingerbread house party - we've had a few shindigs this year and I don't think there's harm in skipping just this once (maybe I'll defer that energy to a 2009 Easter egg hunt?). Similarly, Brainiac and I have decided to forego work-related events, instead demonstrating collegiality and all-around fitness for continued employability by sharing the results of what I hope will be marathon and highly pleasurable cookie- and candy-making sessions.
Speaking of cookies, I'd be remiss if I my annual tradition of sending you all to Susie J.'s Christmas Baking site. The Advent Calendar alone will make you weep and Sue makes her own mixed peel for fruitcakes, an activity I wholly and enthusiastically endorse. When I last saw her during a run to Penzey's, I obtained her promise that the site is backed-up thoroughly because I would be lost without several of the recipes (despite being too lazy to actually write them down anywhere), specifically gingerbread, Albertle, Ausstecherle and mokka. In case she needs proof that no good deed goes unpunished, I may just invite myself to her house for a lesson in zimtsterne since I remain in total paralyzing fear of making them on my own.
You know, now that I think of it, zimtsterne and tea sweetened with cinnamon honey would make an excellent winter snack. The combination might be just the thing to bring into our respective offices to promote a little goodwill toward men, not to mention peace on Earth (or at least the Philadelphia suburbs).
In the meantime, I've been also trying to finish up some crafty gifts in time for my Thanksgiving trip to Buffalo. The kids and I are heading up for the long weekend and I'm very keen to be able to have all the presents wrapped and ready to go. I'm way more organized this year than in the last few and that makes all the difference between good intentions and actual gift production. Being organized! I'm amazed someone didn't think of it sooner.
We'll be arriving back from the trip up north on the first day of Advent and in the spirit of organization I'm putting together plans for the activities and projects that truly add to our observance and am being very bold about declining to participate in engagements that would diminish our enjoyment of the season. The short list so far includes a nice balance of private reflection and friendly togetherness with people I don't see nearly enough. I've decided this year not to have a big gingerbread house party - we've had a few shindigs this year and I don't think there's harm in skipping just this once (maybe I'll defer that energy to a 2009 Easter egg hunt?). Similarly, Brainiac and I have decided to forego work-related events, instead demonstrating collegiality and all-around fitness for continued employability by sharing the results of what I hope will be marathon and highly pleasurable cookie- and candy-making sessions.
Speaking of cookies, I'd be remiss if I my annual tradition of sending you all to Susie J.'s Christmas Baking site. The Advent Calendar alone will make you weep and Sue makes her own mixed peel for fruitcakes, an activity I wholly and enthusiastically endorse. When I last saw her during a run to Penzey's, I obtained her promise that the site is backed-up thoroughly because I would be lost without several of the recipes (despite being too lazy to actually write them down anywhere), specifically gingerbread, Albertle, Ausstecherle and mokka. In case she needs proof that no good deed goes unpunished, I may just invite myself to her house for a lesson in zimtsterne since I remain in total paralyzing fear of making them on my own.
You know, now that I think of it, zimtsterne and tea sweetened with cinnamon honey would make an excellent winter snack. The combination might be just the thing to bring into our respective offices to promote a little goodwill toward men, not to mention peace on Earth (or at least the Philadelphia suburbs).
Thai Hot and Sweet Dipping Sauce
I found this recipe first online at the Fresh Preserving website and then again in the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving that Lauren Devine sent me a few months back. I was struck right away how perfect this sauce would be for the Homecanned Gift project - simple enough for beginners to follow easily while also being different enough from the usual jams and pickles to interest the more experienced among us.
With only five ingredients and requiring no long cooking time or chemical reaction for success, it's the perfect choice for making a quick, inexpensive and utterly unique and delicious gift at home. Making 10 half-pint jars took only 20 minutes of hands-on time. The longest part was waiting for the water bath to boil, a lull of which I took advantage by typing this post.
To make the sauce, you need:
Start by starting the water bath to boiling, simmering lids and rings and sterilizing your jars.
Combine the chopped garlic and salt in a glass or ceramic bowl and set aside. I chopped up a little more than a head of garlic to get a half a cup. I suppose you could use a garlic masher thingy or buy a jar of pre-chopped garlic as well.
In a stainless steel saucepan, bring the vinegar to a boil. For the love of Ball, don't put your face over the pot while you do this - boiling vinegar is not something you want to inhale. After the vinegar comes to a nice boil add the sugar and stir until dissolved. Lower the heat and allow to simmer for five minutes.
Remove the vinegar from heat and stir in both the garlic mixture and the pepper flakes, stir to combine.
Ladle the sauce into your hot, sterilized jars. Seal according to package instructions and process in a boiling hot water bath for 15 minutes.
When the processing is complete, remove the jars from the water bath (carefully!) and place them on a double thickness of dish cloth or tea towel to cool. Allow plenty of room for air to circulate and try not to disturb them for at least 12 hours. Try, too, to resist pressing the little button on the top of the lid to check for a seal. I know you'll want to, but try to avoid it.
And that's that. You now have 8 to 10 half-pint jars of Thai Hot and Sweet Dipping Sauce with which to bless a friend (or yourself - we eat a lot of steamed dumplings around here and I may need to make a second batch). Next time you can add a bit of lemon grass or galangal or ginger, but for now you've made something perfectly excellent and of which you hold your head up high. As for cost, assuming you'll get the same ten jars I did and pay similar prices I'd say you're looking at a little less than a dollar a jar (for jars and ingredients but not including energy costs for processing and cooking).
In a few weeks we'll talk about embellishing the jars for a nice presentation. This sauce doesn't require much in that regard - it has a lovely amber color and a fun snowglobe-like effect from the pepper flakes and garlic. It could be given exactly as is or, if you're feeling expansive and generous, bundled with a recipe and perhaps a dumpling press, which can be had for a couple dollars apiece.
Whatever you decide to do in the way of gifting, be proud that you have made something delicious, useful, frugal and beautiful. Happy holidays, indeed!
Next up: Lemon-Sage Wine Mustard. Yum!
With only five ingredients and requiring no long cooking time or chemical reaction for success, it's the perfect choice for making a quick, inexpensive and utterly unique and delicious gift at home. Making 10 half-pint jars took only 20 minutes of hands-on time. The longest part was waiting for the water bath to boil, a lull of which I took advantage by typing this post.
To make the sauce, you need:
- 1/2 cup of finely chopped garlic
1 tablespoon of salt
six cups cider vinegar
six cups of white sugar
1/2 cup hot red pepper flakes
Start by starting the water bath to boiling, simmering lids and rings and sterilizing your jars.
Combine the chopped garlic and salt in a glass or ceramic bowl and set aside. I chopped up a little more than a head of garlic to get a half a cup. I suppose you could use a garlic masher thingy or buy a jar of pre-chopped garlic as well.
In a stainless steel saucepan, bring the vinegar to a boil. For the love of Ball, don't put your face over the pot while you do this - boiling vinegar is not something you want to inhale. After the vinegar comes to a nice boil add the sugar and stir until dissolved. Lower the heat and allow to simmer for five minutes.
Remove the vinegar from heat and stir in both the garlic mixture and the pepper flakes, stir to combine.
Ladle the sauce into your hot, sterilized jars. Seal according to package instructions and process in a boiling hot water bath for 15 minutes.
When the processing is complete, remove the jars from the water bath (carefully!) and place them on a double thickness of dish cloth or tea towel to cool. Allow plenty of room for air to circulate and try not to disturb them for at least 12 hours. Try, too, to resist pressing the little button on the top of the lid to check for a seal. I know you'll want to, but try to avoid it.
And that's that. You now have 8 to 10 half-pint jars of Thai Hot and Sweet Dipping Sauce with which to bless a friend (or yourself - we eat a lot of steamed dumplings around here and I may need to make a second batch). Next time you can add a bit of lemon grass or galangal or ginger, but for now you've made something perfectly excellent and of which you hold your head up high. As for cost, assuming you'll get the same ten jars I did and pay similar prices I'd say you're looking at a little less than a dollar a jar (for jars and ingredients but not including energy costs for processing and cooking).
In a few weeks we'll talk about embellishing the jars for a nice presentation. This sauce doesn't require much in that regard - it has a lovely amber color and a fun snowglobe-like effect from the pepper flakes and garlic. It could be given exactly as is or, if you're feeling expansive and generous, bundled with a recipe and perhaps a dumpling press, which can be had for a couple dollars apiece.
Whatever you decide to do in the way of gifting, be proud that you have made something delicious, useful, frugal and beautiful. Happy holidays, indeed!
Next up: Lemon-Sage Wine Mustard. Yum!
My Dear Mr. Slater
Earlier this year I went on a bit of a Nigel Slater glom, reading every one of his books I could access through my local library system. I can't remember how it started or if I had any particular goals in mind - I only recall feeling a little let down with his pedantic style and presentation and not getting whatever it had been I was expecting. Laconic nearly to the point of inducing slumber, Slater's writing betrays little of the passion he says he feels about food and cooking. I read and read trying to find a clue as to why he is so beloved and respected until in The Kitchen Diaries he made disparaging comments about home-canned items given as gifts. This, as you might well imagine, I feel is a deal breaker and an appalling position for one who claims to support micro producers and local foodways.
In my own small way I feel called upon to try to rebalance the scale in favor of homecanned fabulousness - especially for gifting and for hosting. What I wouldn't give to be offered a piece of poundcake glazed with homemade apricot jam this holiday season instead of a gooey oversweet whatsit from the freezer section. Or be able to open a jar of chutney to pair with whole grain crackers rather than heat up some pre-made pastry thing. Or, or, or... You, too? Then let's do something about it.
Over the next weeks I'll be making and posting about a variety of canned foodstuffs that are not only delicious but also easy to make and suitable projects for home canners from novice to expert. Any can be given as wonderful gifts on their own or matched with inexpensive additions or can be kept aside for those days when you'd like to have friends over* but aren't up to the task or expense of shopping. If you don't already have water-bath canning gear and want to play along check out this post and consider about spending some of your grocery budget on supplies (including half- or quarter-pint jars) - or chip in with a friend or borrow if it's your first time. My own canning kettle is in use throughout the year and I count the money it cost as among the best I've ever spent, repaid many times over in savings and enjoyment.
What shall we make? These are the ideas I have, but I am nothing if not flexible. If there's something you'd like to try, do let me know and we'll see what can be done. I'll start with the following:
For each of these projects I'll post the recipe, some pics and a few ideas to maximize its gifting potential. If you're inspired to try some canning on your own, I'll hope you'll leave links to your projects in the comments so we can all learn together.
If Mr. Slater's been disappointed by gifts of homemade lusciousness in the past, my guess is he never received a present from one of us.
* You know how you're always saying you should have people over more? Yeah, me too. I'm seriously thinking that should be my New Year's Resolution - more people, more often.
In my own small way I feel called upon to try to rebalance the scale in favor of homecanned fabulousness - especially for gifting and for hosting. What I wouldn't give to be offered a piece of poundcake glazed with homemade apricot jam this holiday season instead of a gooey oversweet whatsit from the freezer section. Or be able to open a jar of chutney to pair with whole grain crackers rather than heat up some pre-made pastry thing. Or, or, or... You, too? Then let's do something about it.
Over the next weeks I'll be making and posting about a variety of canned foodstuffs that are not only delicious but also easy to make and suitable projects for home canners from novice to expert. Any can be given as wonderful gifts on their own or matched with inexpensive additions or can be kept aside for those days when you'd like to have friends over* but aren't up to the task or expense of shopping. If you don't already have water-bath canning gear and want to play along check out this post and consider about spending some of your grocery budget on supplies (including half- or quarter-pint jars) - or chip in with a friend or borrow if it's your first time. My own canning kettle is in use throughout the year and I count the money it cost as among the best I've ever spent, repaid many times over in savings and enjoyment.
What shall we make? These are the ideas I have, but I am nothing if not flexible. If there's something you'd like to try, do let me know and we'll see what can be done. I'll start with the following:
- Spiced honey
Lemon-Sage Wine Mustard
Roasted Red Pepper Spread
Lime Chutney
Thai Hot and Sweet Dipping Sauce
For each of these projects I'll post the recipe, some pics and a few ideas to maximize its gifting potential. If you're inspired to try some canning on your own, I'll hope you'll leave links to your projects in the comments so we can all learn together.
If Mr. Slater's been disappointed by gifts of homemade lusciousness in the past, my guess is he never received a present from one of us.
* You know how you're always saying you should have people over more? Yeah, me too. I'm seriously thinking that should be my New Year's Resolution - more people, more often.
Plus ça change
For as long as humans have memorialized religious and cultural events with feasts and gift-giving there have been corresponding backlashes seeking to return such celebrations to the way they used to be. No doubt the second observance of any given holiday is beset by plaintive wailings of "but we didn't to it that way laaaast year" which are repeated with gathering and indignant alarm every year thereafter.
Which brings us to the Holiday Season 2008. Happy Diwali everyone!
This year I am taking a position on the vanguard of So It's Not Like Last Year (or Any Year Prior to That). I read a lot of old books, books which are just as rife with complaints about immoral excess amongst celebrating citizenry as our current blogs. I'm struck by the similarity of arguments over the centuries - that children are given too much, that adults eat too much and overshop, that religious institutions don't do enough to stem the tide of modern intemperance. The dismay of 1800 isn't so very different from ours today.
Not that I think that we can turn a blind eye to any problems, micro or macro, that may arise from both public and private observances. I groove on the Handmade Holiday and the Buy Handmade movements as much as the next girl. I adore Etsy with the heat of a thousand white-hot suns. And yet I recognize and wince more than a bit at the creeping temptation and encouragement to use such sensibilities and resources as shorthand for how well someone "gets" any number of issues, from transforming any given holiday into some ill-defined notion of past celebrations to making an economic statement.
Who among us wants to be the one who tells a working-two-minimum-wage-jobs mom that she needs to be getting online (digital divide, anyone?) and ordering artisanal puppets for her children because that's better for the environment and a more authentic gift? Or that she should kitting up to make those puppets, with the required expenses of fabric and glue gun and needle because that's what moms of yesteryear would have done (o.k., maybe Ma Ingalls did without the glue gun...) and those women would have beensatisfied thrilled with such modest, within-budget expressions of affection? Meanwhile, the dollar store has adorable puppets in a range of styles that are deemed by a privileged class to be less-than because of where they were made or how much energy they required to get here. Well, that's not a conversation that I am willing to have.
There's an awful lot that vies to detract from our wholehearted engagement in whatever celebrations appear on our personal calendars and much to make us doubt any celebration in which we indulge is sufficient by one measure or another. Goodness knows that a glance the headlines is enough to make anyone want to call the whole thing off, or at least attempt to dial things back to an imaginary golden time when we believe that people didn't face such scariness as a matter of course. But of course they did, humans always have (there were no good old days, after all, where children and adults were perfectly pious in their merrymaking). This is part of the reason we have such celebratory seasons as the one we are entering. It's no accident that so many of us are preparing for festivals and holidays relating to various notions of finding light, literally and metaphorically.
I like walking into stores this time of year and taking note of the many types and varieties of candles, rich in color and scent. I love the strings of lights as suitable for Diwali as for my own Christmas observance. My local "designer discount" store has a collection of gorgeous Menorahs for sale - Jews mark the miracle of the oil with nine candles on a Menorah, candles which could also serve well for Sweden’s St. Lucia day or Thailand’s Loi Krathong festival.
The message is clear to me. In a time of deepening darkness, the best response is to find the light in each other. Let us avoid trying to find our own search lacking as compared to current false ideals papered over past realities. Humans are united in the search for illumination. This season, may we all find it, in every sense.
Which brings us to the Holiday Season 2008. Happy Diwali everyone!
This year I am taking a position on the vanguard of So It's Not Like Last Year (or Any Year Prior to That). I read a lot of old books, books which are just as rife with complaints about immoral excess amongst celebrating citizenry as our current blogs. I'm struck by the similarity of arguments over the centuries - that children are given too much, that adults eat too much and overshop, that religious institutions don't do enough to stem the tide of modern intemperance. The dismay of 1800 isn't so very different from ours today.
Not that I think that we can turn a blind eye to any problems, micro or macro, that may arise from both public and private observances. I groove on the Handmade Holiday and the Buy Handmade movements as much as the next girl. I adore Etsy with the heat of a thousand white-hot suns. And yet I recognize and wince more than a bit at the creeping temptation and encouragement to use such sensibilities and resources as shorthand for how well someone "gets" any number of issues, from transforming any given holiday into some ill-defined notion of past celebrations to making an economic statement.
Who among us wants to be the one who tells a working-two-minimum-wage-jobs mom that she needs to be getting online (digital divide, anyone?) and ordering artisanal puppets for her children because that's better for the environment and a more authentic gift? Or that she should kitting up to make those puppets, with the required expenses of fabric and glue gun and needle because that's what moms of yesteryear would have done (o.k., maybe Ma Ingalls did without the glue gun...) and those women would have been
There's an awful lot that vies to detract from our wholehearted engagement in whatever celebrations appear on our personal calendars and much to make us doubt any celebration in which we indulge is sufficient by one measure or another. Goodness knows that a glance the headlines is enough to make anyone want to call the whole thing off, or at least attempt to dial things back to an imaginary golden time when we believe that people didn't face such scariness as a matter of course. But of course they did, humans always have (there were no good old days, after all, where children and adults were perfectly pious in their merrymaking). This is part of the reason we have such celebratory seasons as the one we are entering. It's no accident that so many of us are preparing for festivals and holidays relating to various notions of finding light, literally and metaphorically.
I like walking into stores this time of year and taking note of the many types and varieties of candles, rich in color and scent. I love the strings of lights as suitable for Diwali as for my own Christmas observance. My local "designer discount" store has a collection of gorgeous Menorahs for sale - Jews mark the miracle of the oil with nine candles on a Menorah, candles which could also serve well for Sweden’s St. Lucia day or Thailand’s Loi Krathong festival.
The message is clear to me. In a time of deepening darkness, the best response is to find the light in each other. Let us avoid trying to find our own search lacking as compared to current false ideals papered over past realities. Humans are united in the search for illumination. This season, may we all find it, in every sense.
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