December stay forever
December, stay forever, will you?
This month has been so lovely and good, and I am so grateful for all the fun and rest I have been able to enjoy since the semester ended.
Laurianne finished her last exam when I got back from the West Coast. We have since been enjoying much merry activity together, as well as with friends and family.
Namely:
Writing Christmas cards to loved ones (across provinces, states and countries) and sending them on their merry way. Every Christmas growing up, I watched my parents address cards to friends and family, near and far. This year was the first time I decide to handwrite a few on my own to some dear ones- and I hope to make it a priority in the future. Heart, full.
Dumplings in Chinatown (lamb and coriander, bok choy and mushroom).
A walk in Montreal's Old Port. How dreamy, this time of year: it's like the city wears magic.
Stopping for warm mochas and good chats with a friend, watching thick snowflakes blanketing the ground.
Last-minute gift purchasing with my friend Heloise. My family decided to do an "ethical Christmas" this year, prioritizing local companies or outings for gifts. The creative juices flowed and I was so relieved to check off item by item on my list.
Gift-wrapping, with wassail for sipping and Louis & Ella spinning. Mountains of brown paper and twine and bows and dried oranges and newspaper; a happy sight. Does anyone else's heart skip a beat when people put extra effort into pretty packaging? It gives me joy to come up with wrapping ideas come Christmas. Suuuch joy.
Nestling under a pile of blanket and watching Little Women with Laurianne (a favourite of mine, and her first time watching it). The soundtrack is everything- and I could listen to the Orchard House song again and again. Also watched: Gilmore Girls, of course.
Many dinner parties and Christmas parties, with our nearest and dearest.
A stop at the local arena to watch my friend Mackenzie figure skate (where our friendship sparked over a decade ago). To me, there will always be sweet nostalgia in the sound of blades on the ice, the unusual chill for an indoor space, coaches calling out corrections, the smell of clean and cold. It is like the skates write cursive on the rink as they glide across its surface, carving their own kind of poetry.
Driving to Ottawa for a family reunion. Laughing, catching up, exchanging presents. And feasting (as always), although we decided against turkey this year and had a smorgasbord of other delicacies. Tomatoes and bocconcini, baked biscuit, brie and cranberry, dates and goat cheese, winter salads, Nana's famous seafood casserole, lasagna, tourtière (always), red velvet cake, raspberry ice cream, pecan pie... My little cousins ran around, dressed in their Christmas best, and played music on a piano and their violins. They excitedly participated in my mom's Christmas-themed bingo, pictured below. My grandparents looked serene and thankful, which made all the rest of us feel just that. There is something so special about all generations together in one room. Family reunions at Christmas foster a togetherness I can't quite name, but that is so familiar and pleasant. Late that night, we went to bed- with hearts (and stomachs) full.
A Christmas Eve service at the church, with a handful of other congregants who were in town for the holidays. Reading Scripture and singing by candlelight about the coming of Christ Jesus, our King, the long-awaited Saviour. My eyes filled with mist as we chorused "Oh Holy Night" by the flickering light of candles. Sacred moments I won't forget, and couldn't even if I tried.
Coming home, and preparing a plate of charcuterie and wine; a one-time improvisation turned tradition. This Christmas, it was just my little family celebrating together. My mother's health prevented the possibility of guests, which she was so disappointed about. But this plot twist turned out to be good for us. Without knowing it, a quiet Christmas was what we needed and yearned for- we just didn't realize it until it was forced upon us. We played games together (laughs and laughs- I hope I never forget them), read John 1 about the Word who became flesh and made His dwelling among us.
Sleeping by the treelight with my sister, as we do every year. Waking to soft light painting itself on the walls of the living room, and greeting each other affectionately on Christmas morn. We opened our stockings, always the first thing to do- followed by Christmas morning brunch, a tradition of sorts: coffee with a splash of eggnog, mushroom and sausage omelette, monkey bread (cinnamon goodness), mimosas, fruit salad.
Exchanging presents happily (slowly) with warm drinks in hand, French carols playing in the background. There is so much joy in seeing a loved one open a present you put thought in, and there is equal joy in unwrapping a gift and feeling so loved, so known. More prayers were whispered, more verses were read: our Saviour has come, and this is the greatest gift of all!
Spending the day together in our abode. We listened to Christmas episodes of The Vynil Cafe (a sound that will forever remind me of my sweet dad), as we did the dishes and cleaned up piles wrapping paper. We made plans for a walk, but swapped them for naps and reading and hot cocoa and an exciting game of dutch blitz. Christmas dinner was rich and refined, with rosé, appetizers, squash soup, chicken portobello phyllo bundles, roasted asparagus, tiramisu- deliciousness upon deliciousness.
Our Christmas was slow and peaceful and joyful. The air is crisp and smells of fresh pine, homes are decked up with lights and garlands, people wear smiles of Christmas cheer. I could not have asked for anything more of these days of December. I really couldn't.
This month has been so lovely and good, and I am so grateful for all the fun and rest I have been able to enjoy since the semester ended.
Laurianne finished her last exam when I got back from the West Coast. We have since been enjoying much merry activity together, as well as with friends and family.
Namely:
Writing Christmas cards to loved ones (across provinces, states and countries) and sending them on their merry way. Every Christmas growing up, I watched my parents address cards to friends and family, near and far. This year was the first time I decide to handwrite a few on my own to some dear ones- and I hope to make it a priority in the future. Heart, full.
Dumplings in Chinatown (lamb and coriander, bok choy and mushroom).
A walk in Montreal's Old Port. How dreamy, this time of year: it's like the city wears magic.
Stopping for warm mochas and good chats with a friend, watching thick snowflakes blanketing the ground.
Last-minute gift purchasing with my friend Heloise. My family decided to do an "ethical Christmas" this year, prioritizing local companies or outings for gifts. The creative juices flowed and I was so relieved to check off item by item on my list.
Gift-wrapping, with wassail for sipping and Louis & Ella spinning. Mountains of brown paper and twine and bows and dried oranges and newspaper; a happy sight. Does anyone else's heart skip a beat when people put extra effort into pretty packaging? It gives me joy to come up with wrapping ideas come Christmas. Suuuch joy.
Nestling under a pile of blanket and watching Little Women with Laurianne (a favourite of mine, and her first time watching it). The soundtrack is everything- and I could listen to the Orchard House song again and again. Also watched: Gilmore Girls, of course.
Many dinner parties and Christmas parties, with our nearest and dearest.
A stop at the local arena to watch my friend Mackenzie figure skate (where our friendship sparked over a decade ago). To me, there will always be sweet nostalgia in the sound of blades on the ice, the unusual chill for an indoor space, coaches calling out corrections, the smell of clean and cold. It is like the skates write cursive on the rink as they glide across its surface, carving their own kind of poetry.
Driving to Ottawa for a family reunion. Laughing, catching up, exchanging presents. And feasting (as always), although we decided against turkey this year and had a smorgasbord of other delicacies. Tomatoes and bocconcini, baked biscuit, brie and cranberry, dates and goat cheese, winter salads, Nana's famous seafood casserole, lasagna, tourtière (always), red velvet cake, raspberry ice cream, pecan pie... My little cousins ran around, dressed in their Christmas best, and played music on a piano and their violins. They excitedly participated in my mom's Christmas-themed bingo, pictured below. My grandparents looked serene and thankful, which made all the rest of us feel just that. There is something so special about all generations together in one room. Family reunions at Christmas foster a togetherness I can't quite name, but that is so familiar and pleasant. Late that night, we went to bed- with hearts (and stomachs) full.
A Christmas Eve service at the church, with a handful of other congregants who were in town for the holidays. Reading Scripture and singing by candlelight about the coming of Christ Jesus, our King, the long-awaited Saviour. My eyes filled with mist as we chorused "Oh Holy Night" by the flickering light of candles. Sacred moments I won't forget, and couldn't even if I tried.
Coming home, and preparing a plate of charcuterie and wine; a one-time improvisation turned tradition. This Christmas, it was just my little family celebrating together. My mother's health prevented the possibility of guests, which she was so disappointed about. But this plot twist turned out to be good for us. Without knowing it, a quiet Christmas was what we needed and yearned for- we just didn't realize it until it was forced upon us. We played games together (laughs and laughs- I hope I never forget them), read John 1 about the Word who became flesh and made His dwelling among us.
Exchanging presents happily (slowly) with warm drinks in hand, French carols playing in the background. There is so much joy in seeing a loved one open a present you put thought in, and there is equal joy in unwrapping a gift and feeling so loved, so known. More prayers were whispered, more verses were read: our Saviour has come, and this is the greatest gift of all!
Spending the day together in our abode. We listened to Christmas episodes of The Vynil Cafe (a sound that will forever remind me of my sweet dad), as we did the dishes and cleaned up piles wrapping paper. We made plans for a walk, but swapped them for naps and reading and hot cocoa and an exciting game of dutch blitz. Christmas dinner was rich and refined, with rosé, appetizers, squash soup, chicken portobello phyllo bundles, roasted asparagus, tiramisu- deliciousness upon deliciousness.
Our Christmas was slow and peaceful and joyful. The air is crisp and smells of fresh pine, homes are decked up with lights and garlands, people wear smiles of Christmas cheer. I could not have asked for anything more of these days of December. I really couldn't.
Comments