What leaves me cold: the frantic visual and aural clamor in stores, Santa Claus in all his manifestations, the usual articles about how to avoid holiday stress and avoid social stigma by buying just the right gifts. Constant reminders that thefts escalate here during the season, because the have-nots all want to provide gifts for their families too. The notion that Christmas is really just about increasing the luxuries and bling in one's life, thus driving us to buy more shiny stuff, rich food and gadgets.
I've gone from avoiding Christmas entirely (easy to do if you're out in the Pacific on a boat with someone of like mind), to throwing myself into a tizzy a few days before the 25th, which is hard on my wallet and inner peace (who did I forget?) Now I'm looking for some balance, and giving myself the gift of a few (carefully selected) new experiences. Learning carols in Spanish. Treating my nose to wonderful spicy baking aromas while reminding myself to give away most of the results.
Would you believe, for instance, that I've lived my whole life without getting involved in Christmas cookie mania? I made up for that yesterday when I invited Maya, 10, over to make gingerbread cookies we decorated with icing. She's been saying for weeks she wanted to repeat our last very successful cookie project, so I dug up some recipes and she brought over her cutters, which she's been dying to use since last spring. I made up the dough ahead of time since it had to chill, and we rolled out a batch. We cut out moons and little houses, fish and hearts, put them on to bake and because my convection oven repeatedly blew the power strip, they ended up baking far longer than they should have. Definitely turned out al dente. But we had a great time mixing up colored icings. She's fascinated with the process of combining red and blue, red and yellow, blue and yellow and all of the above... We tried using the frosting bag I bought, but the frosting wouldn't hold its shape. Tasted pretty good, though. These may be the ugliest Christmas cookies ever produced, but we were satisfied, and the Capt. enjoyed them too (especially since I had to put off making lunch until after the cleanup).
Whenever I used a word she didn't know, she'd look it up on my computer. And vice versa. So I learned that the Spanish name for my favorite color is verde azulado. A handy thing to know.
She had no apron and was wearing a blouse with flowing sleeves, so she took a plastic bag and cut holes in it for her head and arms, tucking the sleeves inside as they do for school painting class.
Qúe lastima, today Maya, her family and their Yorkie Akira leave for Mexico City for Christmas. I'll miss her birthday and worry she'll come back a blasé teenager. I won't get a chance to sing carols with her and teach her "Las Mañanitas" on the guitar. But she has asked to make cupcakes when she comes back, so I'll spend the time looking for recipes, and maybe doing a little kitchen testing. And make her an apron.