The New Year's Day Walk

It used to be a hike, long ago, before there were children. I'm not positive when it began, either. Perhaps its origins can be traced back to our engagement on New Year's Day fifteen years ago whilst walking the trail around Walden Pond in Massachusetts. All I know is that now it's a solid tradition.

Every year we take a New Year's Day walk to shake out the previous year's dust and regain the clarity of our vision, assess the past and hope for the future. We've taken these walks in a number of places. Walden has been on the list twice. There were many memorable NYDWs in the foothills above Stanford in Palo Alto, one in Ankara, and a few scattered across the US as we have celebrated with family. The Robert Frost Trail in Vermont is a perennial favorite when we're there, although one year it was too snowy and we simply walked a path around our property in the moonlight after the kids were in bed. This year we went for two: one with just the 6 of us around Bon Air Park in Arlington and one combined with my sister's family in the woods and neighborhood near my folks' house in Fairfax.

The location isn't as important as the conversations, and neither is as important as the quality of the company. It's just so nice to be moving forward together and discuss a few family highlights, some rough spots, and touch on several items for the year ahead.

2010- may it hold many pleasant surprises for you and those you love. Happy New Year!

More Santa Fun

Comedian David Sedaris and fifteen minutes of a good Santa story.

Found via the Times and Seasons "Notes From All Over" sidebar.

Weighing the Value of Santa Claus

The Jolly Old Elf and I have been at odds for years now. We used to get along fine so long as we left each other alone. But then something changed.

My first child was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in the late 1990’s and I was inclined to absorb the prevalent local culture of parenting. That culture questioned the need to blithely pass on traditions of any kind without scrutinizing them first. So I checked my lists twice before allowing things into her world and Santa just didn’t make the cut. I felt deeply responsible for creating an environment in which a fresh new soul could grow unencumbered by popular culture. I made a promise to her (and thus to her subsequent siblings) that I would try to be honest about everything. I wanted her to believe me when I told her stories about Jesus Christ, so I figured I’d have to be truthful about the reality of Santa Claus- and anything else she wanted to know. That’s a rather idealistic viewpoint, I know. I believed in Santa for a few years myself and yet have a deep testimony of the reality of my Savior, so the logic might be faulty. But I felt strongly about it and kept my word as best I could.

When she was almost four years old, we moved to Ohio. Our new home had a little fireplace. That winter, the question came. “Mom, how does Santa get in? He can’t fit down our chimney and I know you lock the doors at night. Is he real?” I asked her what she thought and let her work it out herself. I didn’t give a direct “no” because I knew part of her wanted to believe, but I supported her conclusion that maybe the story wasn’t all true.

And yet, part of it was true. When that same daughter was two, we lived in Turkey for ten months. Turkey is known for lots of interesting things, Saint Nicholas among them. He was the Bishop in Myra in the 4th century and that area of Lycia has not forgotten him. As I was exposed to the history, my heart softened some. Maybe there was a place for part of this tradition in the lives of my children. But how does one balance it?

Daughter number two asked the question a few years ago. This time my answer was, “Yes, he was real.” A simple explanation followed that revealed the truth about Saint Nicholas and his example as one of the believers. I also explained that Santa Claus, as portrayed in Clement Moore’s poem, is a character in a story.

You might guess that I’ve never taken my kids to the mall to sit on Santa’s lap, and you’d be right. In fact, my favorite mall Santa was the one at AnkaMall in Turkey; he stood inside the entrance and sold lottery tickets. It seemed so appropriate.

I no longer wince every time I see this icon of the holiday season. I’ve made my peace with him by allowing him a small supporting role in our celebration of this most Christian of Holy Days.

And he’s stopped putting coal in my stocking.

Having Repented...

... I can now get into the Christmas spirit. No, it's not wintery, but I'm not going to let that get in the way. I heard you playing "My Heart Bleeds For You" on the world's smallest violin, so I'll not complain about the weather anymore.

I've been listening to Christmas music shamelessly since early November, but it wasn't until we got out all the Christmas books last night that things changed. (See here for a great post on Christmas books.) We also put up some of the decorations we brought with us, and NOW we feel more holiday cheer. Part of it was watching the kids get really excited about their favorite books, sit down and pour over them until their eyes were all sparkly.

Magic.

The Purpose of Winter

Does winter matter? Is the coldest season important? What is gained by it?

I once lived where winter was wet and green, where the smell of freshly cut grass meant only one thing: Christmas. And yet, it was the coldest season Palo Alto had and so it sufficed. However, most of the time my winters have been truly frosty.

As a child, Virginia winters were plenty cold. There was ice to scrape off the windshield in the morning, it snowed a few times each year, and I knew how to wear a scarf and hat. Next came Utah winters with blowing, powdery snow and a real need for boots. The snow on the mountains stayed from October till summer. Good times.

My stretch of California winters was interrupted by one in Boston and one in Ankara- and the two were remarkably similar. Then came the Cleveland winter- brrrrr. Lake-effect snow was compounded by loneliness and insufficient insulation. (Cleveland and I didn't really get along.)

Vermont was next: cold outside but warm inside. Yes, I had to seal up a few windows for the season and it was two years before we had heating vents upstairs, but somehow the fact that I was finally home made all the difference. We were still wet behind the ears and giddy about being Vermonters. We relished the snow and making our kids don so much gear each school day morning. Shoveling massive amounts of snow from the roof and the driveway made us feel hardy and tough. Learning the wintery ropes of Northerners was a challenge made enjoyable by doing it together.

And so, is it any wonder that my "easy" winter here in Virginia has thus far failed to inspire me at all? Yes, I brought my bin of Christmas decorations, but I don't really feel like putting them up (I will, though). My good sweaters are nearly useless so far. The children balk at wearing their coats because they know it's just "not that cold".

Without truly feeling the need to button up, snuggle up or find my down slippers, preparing for Christmastime feels like the marking of just another annual event. Somehow, for me, real Christmas is much more difficult and that makes it more meaningful. The joy of the Grace given at Christ's birth is sweeter when life around you is unbearably frozen. The warmth of celebration and light is cozier when the alternative is so very dark and cold. Winter and Christmas are the great opposites, each a foil for the other.

My husband is on his way to Australia today. I am trying to get my mind around Christmas traditions that include the beach and BBQ's. If I had to celebrate Christmas in shorts, I would lack a certain element of gratitude and appreciation. Not that it can't be done, mind you, but it would be hard for me. In fact, it is hard for me to feel seasonally cheery as I sit here in a house that's 65º... without the heat on.

Fortunately, I have 24 more days to get my act together and find a way to achieve that powerful, deep joy that only comes once a year at this great season.

Maybe it will snow....

Pumpkin Day!

Mmmm, pumpkins. One of my all-time favorite foods. So very versatile, so very yummy.

Today was Pumpkin Day at our house. We read Pumpkin Day, Pumpkin Night by Anne Rockwell- a year-round favorite. Next, we prepped two pumpkins using my secret scooping tool: a biscuit cutter. We put the seeds in a colander, washed them, mixed them with oil, kosher salt and a little garam masala spice mix, and toasted them at 425º till they were nice and golden. A perfect after-school snack plus now the house smells fabulous.

We carved one pumpkin as per the story: the classic jack-o-lantern face. The other one is ready for the combined creativity of the older girls and they will get their chance later today. Pictures to follow.

What do you love most about this time of year?

Pioneer Day at the Cabin

For those of you who may have missed it, July 24th marks a holiday. It's Pioneer Day: the day we commemorate and celebrate the 1847 arrival of the Mormon Pioneers in the Salt Lake Valley. It can be a pretty big celebration in some places, but we managed to keep it pretty low key. We met out at my parents' cabin in West Virginia where there was a small gathering and picnic. There was the obligatory Jell-O salad (much-loved by the 2 year old), fried chicken (enjoyed by the baby), cole slaw, 3-bean salad, watermelon, hot dogs, chips and salsa, and sundry other salads. Dessert was a varied spread and delicious! The games got rained out but the campfire didn't and it cleared up enough to finish the party with toasted marshmallows and s'mores. I caught a few of my favorite people eating and having fun.

(Posters made by the girls)

(In the background are the Gumdrop Mountains.)

Love Is In The Air

Hmmmmm. Valentine's Day is this week. Time for some thoughts on love, I suppose.

Do you like Valentine's Day? My daughters do. They love to make the cards and sign their names, attach stickers or candy or something special. The nine year old has kept every card ever given to her. I suppose she always will. Someday it will make quite a scrapbook. The five year old helped write a poem for her cards this year- well, two poems, actually. We found the following in a book illustrated by Tommie DePaola, given to us by my mother:

Lilies are white
And rosemary's green.
When I am King
You shall be Queen.

She liked the simple and regal picture, but the poem wasn't quite suited to her purpose. So we altered it to go like this:

Rosemary's green
And lilies are white,
When I am Queen,
I'll make you a Knight.

Well, pretty good for the boys' cards, but it wouldn't do for the girls. We tried this instead:

Roses are red
And violets are blue.
When I am Queen,
I'll make you one, too!

Not bad for Kindergarten. There's been quite a bit of excitement this week as the preparations were being made for Friday's parties. One of them said that Valentine's Day is her favorite time of the school year because you get to make everyone so happy. I concurred.

But I remember times when Valentine's Day was far from my favorite time. It was awkward, even painful when I was younger. Did those boys really mean all those things that were printed on their cards? Oh, I hope not! How embarrassing for us all! And why do I need to get Valentines from all the girls, too? Sheesh. I had so little imagination.

Fortunately, I outgrew all that. I remember some really good Valentine's Days in college. Nothing over the top, you understand. Just enough positive feedback to keep things going when relationships would have otherwise succumbed to the February Funk. It seemed I always called my mom in despair in early February, only to have things take a turn for the better two weeks later. There were some good mix tapes, some flowers where it was certainly the thought that counted, some bravely honest cards. Maybe even a dance or two. Dinner, as I recall.

And now? Now I find that I must make room for two kinds of celebrations in my heart. One is for the kids- red things, heart-shaped things, little notes in their lunch boxes, decorations- and the other is for my own true love. Cards are a good place to begin, hand-made or purchased, but with a heartfelt note inside. Sometimes that's all we get around to giving, sometimes there's chocolate and flowers- or a plant once, which he still has. I do feel a little silly about the meagerness of the symbols I use to express my love. It really should be something huge, significant, and special. On the other hand, the recipient is not one for big public displays, so maybe it's just as well. There are some good ideas floating around out there, and there's still time to whip something up....

Here's a poem I like to help get you in the spirit of things. It's called The Pomegranate and the Big Crowd, and I would post it here but it's copyrighted. Go over here and read it. It's fun.

Love,
Maren

Life's Little Detours

Happy New Year! If the first night is any indication, then this will be a year of unpredictability and hidden surprises, not all of them bad.

I expected to spend the midnight hour tucking our family into a hotel room in Salt Lake City, Utah, having just greeted most of the members of my husband's family. But sometimes the best laid travel plans go all awry. Instead, I watched the dashboard clock silently ring in the New Year as I merged from the outer loop of the Capital Beltway onto 620 West, also known as Braddock Road. That's right, we spent the night at MY parents' house in Virginia.

We had tickets to fly out of JFK on New Year's Eve at about 7pm. We decided to drive down there because it was less expensive than flying from Burlington. I had succinct lists for each leg of this trip and the packing was efficient, with no room to spare. We headed out at about 9:45 in the morning with light snow falling. We traveled south and watched the road condition deteriorate as we went. Drivers were being cautious- a little too cautious in our opinion- and we saw our generous lead time slip away. We finally got up to the posted speed limit when we made it onto I-87 in New York state.

The kids were generally good in the car, though the littlest one had a few episodes of frustration when he wanted to get out of his carseat and have me hold him. The reason why I wouldn't was beyond his understanding. But we made it across the Bronx in decent time and by 5pm we were on the Van Wyck- nearly to the airport- when my husband's mobile phone rang. He answered it and listened as the recording from the airline relayed the unfortunate news that our flight had been cancelled due to high winds. They had re-booked us on another flight to Salt Lake City two days later.

WHAT?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn't going to work at all.

We parked in the short-term lot and Q, the master negotiator an elite medallion card holder, went in to see what could be done. I stayed in the car and let 4 kids blow off steam for 45 minutes. We broke out some of the special airplane snacks I'd been saving and talked through the wishes and complaints of the 5 year old.

Q came back with our anticipated Plan B: 5 seats on a flight out of IAD (Dulles Airport) the next afternoon. We headed back out onto the road and I tried calling my parents, who weren't home. Hmmm. New Year's Eve... they were probably at my sister's, though I didn't know her new phone number off the top of my head. I tried my other sister, with no luck. What to do, what to do. Was it possible they were out of town? Possible, yes. I closed my eyes and stood next to the phone list on the side of my refrigerator. There it was! I dialed my younger sister's number but it didn't connect. I tried switching two numbers around, but that wasn't right either. No, I was sure I had seen it correctly, so I tried again. Bingo, Ed answered.

They were a little surprised, to say the least, but rather excited to have us overnight. I figured we would roll in about midnight, which gave my Mom plenty of time to make everything look as though she had been expecting us for weeks. We slowly poured our ready cash into toll booth after toll booth and made our way south again. As we crossed the next state line, we announced it to the interested parties in the back seat.

"New Jersey?" the 5 year old said. "But we don't even speak that language!"

"And what language do you suppose they speak here?" we wondered.

"New Jersey," came her reply. She noted that the man at the toll booth had an accent and wasn't sure he was speaking English.

We forget sometimes that our children haven't had the breadth of experiences we have had and their perspective is often quite funny. When we stopped for "dinner" at the Thomas Edison rest stop, she also noticed several things that she shared with us: a person wearing shorts (on a cold, blustery night), a set of twins, and that many people there had darker skin than hers. She's a good junior scientist.

As the hours ticked by, people in the car began to fall asleep. One child was too excited and had a difficult time being patient or sleeping. Guess which one. I switched seats with my husband and drove the last leg wide awake on adrenaline and one Dr. Pepper. I hardly ever drink caffeinated soft drinks, so when I do they really work for me. I could write a whole post on long drives and their associated soft drinks, but that's for another time. I discovered that 11:15 on New Year's Eve is a great time to drive on I-95 in Baltimore. It was nowhere near the bottleneck it usually is.

11:38. The beautiful Washington D.C. Temple rose from the car in front of me and appeared to be my destination. Unfortunately not this time. 11:49. I passed Tyson's Corner- Hi, Aunt Janet! 11:52. I passed familiar street names like Lee Highway, Arlington Boulevard, and Little River Turnpike. 11:59. I tapped Q on the arm and wished him a happy New Year as I exited the highway. Braddock Road was nearly empty, though I passed a few cars pulled over by officers of the law. By 12:25 I was carrying sleeping children and overnight backpacks into my old home, greeting my parents and looking forward to my sister's family coming over later that day.

We had a wonderful short visit and my Dad drove us to the airport the next afternoon. We eventually made it to Utah and drove into my Mother-in-law's driveway almost a day late, but intact and grateful for a few nice surprises among the ruins of our original travel plans.

How was your New Year's Eve celebration?

The Gift

The kids received many wonderful presents this Christmas and they have been quite busy enjoying all of them. However, the thing that inspires the most squabbling is... (drum roll)... the 2 year old's new Slinky! Everyone wants to play with it, especially if someone else already is. Amazing.

We had a nice, spiritual Christmas Eve followed by an enjoyable Christmas morning- complete with our traditional "last present" treasure hunt with rhyming clues. (It led to a small new CD player for the girls' bedroom.) We had a great time when my sister's family came on Christmas night, feasting on veggies, meatballs, chips, apple cider and egg nog. We all got up before the sun to see them off on their Canadian ski trip the next morning and it was over all too soon. As we sat down for lunch later that day, my son held up his cup and said, "Dad, can I have some more door knob in my cup, please?" We all cracked up- egg nog, my dear. It's called egg nog.

I love the Christmas Season. I'm glad for the traditions we experience every year and the extra layer of meaning they acquire annually. Most of all I'm grateful for Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who submitted himself to the will of our Father and created the path back to Him. He is the way whereby we return to our Father and the means whereby we become all that we were designed to be.

"He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" (Micah 6:8) What a gift we've been given! The example and atonement of Jesus Christ are so important to me. I intend to rejoice in these gifts and try to use them every day.

Change for Change

Last year we started a new tradition of charitable giving. I put out a little jar with a sign on it which read "Change for Change" and asked all family members to drop their spare change in it during the month of December. When Christmas was near, we counted it up and chose to donate all $14 (and change) to the local Humane Society. We all enjoyed taking it over and spending some time there last year.

This year I challenged everyone to fill a bigger jar and set it out earlier in November. The girls were very generous, donating much of their allowance and piggy bank savings. Q and I were better about dropping things in as well, and dear Uncle Elliott contributed without even knowing. He brought a big bag of quarters to Sonja earlier this year to help with her 50 States quarter collection, and there were many left over so they went in, too. The end result was just over $50, much to our surprise.

A long, enjoyable discussion ensued as we tried to figure out where this "change" should go. Initially, we had thought of the Heifer Project or something similar. Many good suggestions were made and it was hard to come to a conclusion that suited everyone. In the end, we decided to split it in half and give part to the local chapter of the United Way and part to the Graham Emergency Shelter in Vergennes, both worthy causes making a difference in the local community.

There were Food Shelf donations, too, this year. The teachers requested it instead of gifts, so I took the girls to the store and let them each choose what they'd like to donate: pasta and sauce, canned vegetables, baby food.

This is the serious side of giving. It's not the kind of activity that we get giddy about, but one that is deeply meaningful to us as we do it and a sobering reminder that by the grace of God we are on the giving side. It stretches and strengthens a different part of our charitable nature, though it is by no means the hardest kind of giving. No, it's easy- maybe a little too easy for an adult like me, but I think it's enough to change my children if we do it every year. And maybe our efforts can produce a positive change in someone else's life, too. That's my hope.

Sharing the Love

We have an advent calendar of holiday activities and each day the girls put a tiny ornament on the Christmas tree wall hanging and read a little slip of paper which gives us the day's activity. Some days it says "read a Christmas story book", sometimes it's "sing a Christmas song together". Once it says "visit the gingerbread house exhibit" and we go to the Vermont Folklife Museum. Once it says "Branch Activity" and we all go up to the church for great food, music and company.

Today it said "treat plates". Since it was about 12ºF outside, I left the napping boys at home with Dad and took the geared-up girls around the neighborhood. I carried the plates in a box and we went to most of our immediate neighbors' doors. As I've mentioned before I'm sure, Halloween is tolerable mainly because we get to go to all the houses around and say hello. But Halloween is just about as different from Christmas as any holiday can be aside from this one thing: I get to go around again. It's one of my very favorite parts of Christmas.

Making the treats is fun for me. I like a culinary challenge, so I rarely repeat my holiday offerings two years in a row (except for fudge). Taking the plates around to ten or so neighbors is more fun. There are a few neighbors who invite us inside the door to chat. This time with them is special because it's an education in local culture for the girls and bonding time for neighbors with whom we rarely have full conversations. I notice the little things, like religious sayings near the doorway, holiday decorations and the brightness of people's eyes. Some neighbors stand at the door and smile, accepting the goodies quietly and gracefully. Some aren't home, but will find the offerings as they return later.

Those who receive gifts which are freely given gain not just the gift, but joy as well. This is a concept we discussed last week in the LDS Religious Institute class I teach. We referenced the scripture found in the Doctrine and Covenants section 88:33 which reads: "For what doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receive not the gift? Behold, he rejoices not in that which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift." This is in reference to the gift of the Atonement and exaltation, but I found that it worked in a small way today as well. Anyone who happily receives a plate of cookies is better off in two ways.

But the receivers of gifts are not the only ones who come away with more. The givers also receive. We spent much of the mid-day high on the giddy feeling which comes from making other people happy without any expectation of reciprocation. In his recent talk on happiness President Uchtdorf mentioned the words of James Barrie, the author of Peter Pan: “Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” It's true. Despite the cold and falling snow, our day today was sunny and bright with the essential gift of Christmas: love.

The Sweetest Thing

Tonight I finished the last batch of Christmas cookies. Well, technically they won't be out of the oven until morning, but my part is over. Whew!

Here's what will go on the neighborhood goodie plates this year:

Chocolate Fudge- my best yet
Vanilla Caramels- these may become a tradition, they are so good
Butter mints- yum
Rice Crispy treats- for variety
Chocolate Chunk Pecan bars- like my Thanksgiving pie, but smaller pieces
Orange Spice Peanut Butter cookies- a new favorite
Death By Chocolate cookies- with walnuts, mmmm
Forgotten Kisses- meringues (with coconut and chocolate chips) that "bake" overnight

Sound good? There are some houses for sale on my street!

Pictures to follow when I plate them up tomorrow.

Night Lights

The full moon was indeed very close the other night




And our house is lit up like a Christmas tree

Christmas cookies

Well, the seasonal baking bug finally hit me today, and I am making Coconut Toffee Bars. My sister, however, has been making Christmas cookies for weeks now, and you can visit her blog to sample the daily goodies. Yum!

Norman Rockwellesque

My friend Casey requested photographs of my holiday decorating, saying that she imagined something "Norman Rockwellesque". If that description means "everything is perfect", then that would be my photographer friend who currently resides in London. If it means "homey and slightly cluttered", then that's more like my existence.

Buyurun. ("Here you go" in Turkish. Some words are just too useful to let go.) The stockings are all handmade by me (yes, I know Torin's is backwards... um, he's left-handed), and the kilim is from Turkey, home of Saint Nicholas.

Happy Holidays!

Christmas: The Soundtrack

We all have them and they are never more precious than at Christmas time- I'm talking about our favorite versions of classic holiday songs.

So when I say "Frosty the Snowman", are you hearing Fiona Apple or Bing Crosby? Maybe you prefer Ella Fitzgerlad or even The Cocteau Twins. Or, for a slow-dance version, the Partridge Family. But please tell me it's not Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Let's play a little game. I'll name a Christmas song, and you tell me who recorded your definitive version. Well, okay, I'll start. But I want to hear you singing along!

Frosty the Snowman: Fiona Apple

Santa Claus is Coming to Town: Chris Isaak (with Stevie Nicks)

Good King Wenceslas: Loreena McKinnett

Go Tell It On the Mountain: Simon and Garfunkel (with James Taylor a very close second)

I Saw Three Ships: Sting, of course

Mary's Boy Child: Boney M (go look it up on itunes- the real version isn't there, but some good imitations are)

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear: Sixpence None the Richer

Do You Hear What I Hear: The Rankin Family

I Pray on Christmas: Harry Connick, Jr.

I'll be Home for Christmas: Tony Bennett (live version)

Let It Snow: Gary Grant (a former co-worker of Q's, Sinatra sound, on itunes)

Winter Wonderland: Harry Connick, Jr. (from When Harry Met Sally)

Jingle Bells: Diana Krall

O Little Town of Bethlehem: Sarah McLachlan

Away in a Manger: Emmylou Harris

Hark, the Herald Angels SIng: Jim Brickman (piano)

O Tannenbaum: The Vienna Boys Choir

O Come All Ye Faithful: Amy Grant

Silent Night: The Hooters

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day: Jars of Clay

Deck the Halls: Aly & AJ

O Holy Night: Afterglow

Silver Bells: The Mormon Tabernacle Choir

Some Children See Him: James Taylor

Angels We Have Heard on High: Josh Groban

The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Mel Torme

Do They Know It's Christmas: Band Aid (really, nobody else can do it justice- it must have Boy George, George Michael, and Bono in all of their 80's naiveness.)

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: Chris Isaak (if I have to listen to that song)


You might notice a few missing. Well, I don't have a favorite version, so let me know what your definitive version is of "Joy to the World", "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (BNL is pretty good), "White Christmas", "The Holly and the Ivy" (I used to have a great dulcimer version, but it's on cassette tape), etc.

As for new favorites, I love "Mele Kalikimaka" and "Brightest Star" by Christ Isaak, "Someday at Christmas" by Stevie Wonder, and " Maybe This Christmas" by Ron Sexsmith, of course.

What's on your soundtrack this year- and every year?

Dividing a Holiday

I love Easter. It's such a pleasant holiday in every way. I love the great and marvelous Reason we celebrate it, and I even like the various non-spiritual traditions that go along with it. I'm not so big on the Easter Bunny, per se, but I like the traditional meal, the baskets, the eggs, the beautiful array of spring colors allowed, and- yes, I'll admit it- the candy.

So far, my preparations have included: making egg nest cookies (see recipe below), gathering up some favorite candies like Brach's jelly beans, Cadbury mini eggs, Reece's peanut butter eggs, and the smallest chocolate bunnies I could find, and making sure we have this year's collection of puppets. (Long story coming.) Still to do on my list: boil and dye eggs with the kids on Friday night, make Finnish Pulla (cardamom bread), and plan the meal.

Long story: When Sonja was born, we lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts. One day, near Easter, I was browsing in The Wordsworth Children's Bookstore (now called Curious George and Friends) at Harvard Square.
I came upon a display of Folkmanis puppets and fell in love with an 11" tall chipmunk. I dug really deep for the seventeen dollars he cost (these were grad student budget days) and decided he would be the only thing in Sonja's Easter basket that year. After all, she was only 6 months old. We called him Filbert, and he was a huge hit. He played peek-a-boo, he clapped his hands, he scurried all over and tickled... he was lots of fun, and still is. He played a major role in Sonja's adjustment to Turkey the next year. Most Easters since then have featured a Folkmanis puppet as the main thing in the basket and we now have a good, if varied and odd, collection of puppets. (This year it's a skunk, a fairy, and a river otter.) Traditions are funny things and they often begin in accidental ways.

This year, though, I am looking forward to deliberately trying something new to see if I can bring an added measure of spirituality to our Easter. I was reading the February edition of the Ensign magazine, and came upon a great little collection of reader-submitted ideas for making a family Easter celebration more spiritual. They all sounded good to me, but there was one in particular that got me thinking. I decided to run it past Quinn to see if it was okay to adopt, and he agreed.

Thus begins our new tradition of Spring Day. From now on, we will have our egg hunt and baskets on a Saturday before Easter (which we shall call "Spring Day"), and Easter Sunday will be reserved for a special meal and Family Home Evening devoted to reading the scriptures and learning new Easter songs. No commercialism allowed that day. Whew, what a relief! Now I can separate those two halves of the holiday and emphasize the spiritual message without distractions. I have great hopes for this system, which is similar to the way we do Christmas at our house.

I'm so excited for Easter! I've felt the wonderful joy of this celebration before- it's been burned into my heart on several occasions- and I always look forward to hearing the story and feeling that exultant elation of the Spirit again. Christ is the Lord, our Savior, and I know it! He atoned for our sins, died and was resurrected for us so that we might have the opportunity to return again into the presence of God the Father. It's the most amazing and wonderful gift, and it fills me with joy. Happy, Happy Easter!



What are your family's Easter traditions?


Egg Nest Cookies:

---

1/2 cup butter
3oz cream cheese
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon almond or lemon extract
1 cup flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon water
4-5 drops green food coloring
1 1/3 cups flaked coconut

Jelly beans

Beat the butter and cream cheese together till well mixed. Add sugar and extract and beat till fluffy. Add flour, baking powder and salt and beat until well mixed and cohesive. Cover and chill dough 1-2 hours. Meanwhile, prepare the coconut by adding water, food coloring and coconut to a screw-top jar. Shake to color all the coconut. (I spread it out on waxed paper to dry a bit.)

Heat oven to 350º. Remove dough from refrigerator. Shape into 1" balls, roll in coconut, place 2" apart on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 15-20 minutes till edges are firm. While cookies are still hot, press a jelly bean in the center of each. Cool on wire racks. Makes about 25 cookies.

Back Home Again

The week of Valentine's Day has seen some pretty nasty weather the last couple of years. In 2007, we had three feet of snow on the 14th and it shut down everything- except the power. This year, we had a bit of snow earlier in the week and then a terrible snow/freezing rain/ice storm on the 13th, which meant school was canceled. We spent the day making thick classic Western sugar cookies with frosting and all the trimmings.

Two days later, I grabbed my husband's indestructible suitcase and waded through the mire of airport travel delays. I finally reached my destination (roughly 10 hours late) to find my elated sisters at the Tampa airport, ready to take me to the paradise they had already discovered. The night was warm and smelled like sea water and green things. I couldn't wait to see it in daylight! After a tour of the Sandpearl, we all slept like rocks.


In the morning, as the sun began to rise over the harbor to the east, I found a bag and went out to see the ocean. It was feeling very generous, and I filled my small sack with an urchin, a lightning whelk, several halves of sunray venuses, a few elegant dosinias, an empty but intact zigzag scallop, a third of a sand dollar (maybe 40¢ worth), an iridescent piece of a pen shell, a faded and worn fighting conch, a gorgeous little beaded periwinkle, and a tiny white set of coquina wings. The crown jewel, though, for me was the washed-up sea star.



The rest of Saturday was spent at the spa, inspecting the shops, wading in the ocean, going to a movie together (Definitely, Maybe), and eating dinner at the grill by the beach. Before retiring for yet another sound sleep, we had some sister bonding time with our pooled facial materials: scrubs, masks, toners, moisturizers, cucumbers, etc. It was fun.


The Sandpearl was a true resort, and the sunshine made it look like heaven. We ventured out to Largo on Sunday for church, which was spiritually filling and revitalizing. Next, we visited the Weedon Island Preserve. Another great site and a stellar little visitor's center. Dinner that night was at the very popular (for good reason) Island Way Grill. I had the tempura shrimp, which was very good. Dessert, though, was the best I'd had so far on the trip: a very thick and rich molten chocolate cake. Delicious! A dip in the hotel pool finished off the day.

Monday morning brought us back to earth with Tona's early departure back to Massachusetts. Kari and I had one more morning to comb the beach, then we packed up and headed to the airport. I put on my mental hip boots and again slogged my way through disgusting delays and dreary disappointments, making it home by 9pm that evening. My little boy was asleep, my girls were finishing one more "welcome home" picture upstairs, and my dear husband was mopping the kitchen floor as the dishwasher hummed away. It was nice to be home (especially as compared to being in airports), but it was a weekend to be remembered forever- thanks, Tona and Kari!

A Little Vacation on the Horizon

My iPod is charged. My Tracfone is reactivated. My duties at church and at home have been delegated.

I'm going on vacation!



Once every ten years, my sisters and I get together for a "Sisters' Retreat". Ok, ten years is a long time, but that's about how long it's been since we did it the first time. We've been talking about it for a few years, and then Kari and I decided that it MUST happen. So the three of us compared schedules (and husbands' schedules) and chose February. Since it's winter, we decided that a warm destination was in order, so we're off to Clearwater Beach, Florida for three days. Yipee!!! Guess if we're excited.

The lovely Sandpearl resort will be our "home" away from home, complete with a spa. We are all indulging in various spa treatments, though we're keeping it relatively simple. The weather forecast is for 75-80º temperatures and mostly sunny (ok, maybe a little rain, but at least it's not ice pellets). We have the directions to the local church congregation mapped out, along with a wildlife preserve and other good things. Mostly, I look forward to sitting in the warm shade on the beach and listening to the sound of ocean waves.

Sisters, pack your suitcases... we're off!