Cashmere throws at nap time . . .
A room with a view . . .
The smell of freshly mowed grass . . .
Rain softly falling …
The unexpected comfort of a loose downy pillow . . .
Floor to ceiling bookcase . . .
Getting up with the sun . . .
Freshly baked cookies and a glass of cold milk . . .
Early morning.
I’ve taken my coffee to the patio.
Catching the rays with my morning Joe.
Cinnamon perfumes the air.
Coffee cake is baking.
I am waiting.
CHERRY STREUSEL COFFEE CAKE … the weekend has begun.
When you have little artistic talent you call in the big guns for help – Léonard de Vinci. This is how I made this years Christmas cards. Or, for that matter cards that can be used anytime.
I found copies of the paintings in an old art book that I bought for 25 cents. I always check used book stores for tattered and worn copies of books. They have a multitude of uses and I recycle them in my own way. There is nothing more wonderful that poking around old book stores.
The birds I cut out of an illustrated bird book that I rescued from a discard bin at our library. It had seen better days and was heading for paper recycling.
I cut away the background from the women’s figures and pasted it onto background paper. Then I pasted the birds on.
I stamped crowns on the birds (not always perfectly) and embossed them with gold embossing powder. I have a heat gun for this purpose, but you can also do it by holding your paper over a toaster. Just don’t burn your paper.
This is rather like cutting out paper doll. I did it when I was seven and seven decades later it appears I am still doing it.
Cards for those who are dear to me, but oh so far away.
“CHRISTMAS …
that magic blanket that wraps itself about us,
that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance.
It may weave a spell of nostalgia.
Christmas may be a day of feasting,
or of prayer,
but always it will be a day of remembrance …
a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.”
This quote by Augusta E. Rundel. This charming and endearing Victorian card by Graphics Fairy. This post for everyone who has entered my life, and brought me incredible joy, through Bel’Occhio.
I’ve filled a basket with wreaths and candles, birds and baubles.
Danced around the house singing “jingle bells jingle bells” wearing my ruby slippers – leaving trails of sparkling dust.
Inspired by my far-away friends, The Tin Man and Theadora, I swagged the fresh cedar wreath with both magnolias and birds.
But the white roses cried out to be used. I made a second wreath for my good friend Angelia.
Roses at the door, and in the centre of the wreath a reflection of life on the farm.
More peacocks flutter and flirt.
O0h la la. The new salle de bain can not be forgotten.
Vintage Christmas balls sparkle catching sunshine.
Candles.
They light up the night.
We’ll dine by candle light.
It is a glorious day.
One final act.
At the door I plant cyclamen for Buddha.
Hold a plump, silk-skinned Meyer lemon in your hand.
Caress it.
Close you eyes and breathe its intoxicating perfume.
Imagine its sweet tart taste of honey and thyme on your tongue.
A Mother’s Day gift from my son this sturdy little tree spent the summer in the sun.
Now it grows in a corner window catching the sunlight.
Today I began to harvest my Meyer Lemon Tree. I’m anticipating what I shall do with this precious fruit.
Perhaps I’ll candy the peel, dust it with superfine sugar and serve it with a glass of sherry.
Or rub a little of peel around the rim of a delicate demitasse of espresso.
Then again I could arrange thin slices of Meyer Lemon on to a pizza crust, top it with goat cheese and just the smallest amount of fine chopped rosemary.
I’m thinking sweet thoughts about my very own Meyer Lemons. Pure bliss would be to use them in lemon curd or custard.
Even easier would be to grate my Meyer lemon into a bowl full of sweetened whipped cream.
I could celebrate my harvest of lemons with a lemon gimlet. I would squeeze one of the little darlings, add it with a touch of zest, soda water and a goodly amount of vodka to a sparkling cut- glass tumbler.
I always have Prosecco in my refrigerator. For a treat I would take the lemon juice, add some simple syrup and a strip of peel and top my champagne glass with Prosecco
To go with my cocktail or Bellini I would cut pumpernickel bread into the thinnest of slices, spread a little sour cream on the bread some smoked salmon, thinly sliced lemon and a sprinkle of capers.
Of course I could make lemonade, stuff a duck, make preserved lemons, put it on poached salmon, make lemon gelato.
Or just put these treasures in a blue bowl and enjoy.
Sunday.
The big stone fireplace fills the room with warmth.
Handel’s Messiah and The Hallelujah Chorus fills the house with glorious music .
I’ve pruned a cedar tree accompanied by gentle mooing and just a little clanking from the big cow barn. Two hundred and fifty milk cows create their own Hallelujah song.
This is what you need to make your fresh Christmas wreath:
. a wreath form (dried grape vines are the best) but you can use anything. Even a wire coat hanger.
. pruning shears
. plier cutters
. scissors
. 18 gauge wire
. twine
. fresh greens (cedar, fir, camellia leaves, left over trimmings from the Christmas tree lot)
. and because you’re in the festive mood and the winter night is closing in – an ice-cold glass of sparkling Proseco.
First cut a goodly amount of short branches. Tie them together in small bundles. You’ll need a lot.
For a fat wreath (and they are always the best) tie the first two bundles on to the wreath.
Tie two more bunches on overlapping and covering the ends of the previous bunches.
Continue around the wreath form adding a balanced amount of branches.
When you have finished check to see that you don’t have an stragglers (branches poking out where they shouldn’t). Use the pruning shears to take care of these little darlings.
This is where you can get really creative. Should it be white roses and miniature pomegranates?
Or something exotic - birds of a feather?
Magnolias. They grow lush and beautiful here on the Lower Mainland. Hmmm?
I’ve vibrant red satin ribbon. Simply, classic.
I think I need to sleep on this last finishing touch.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings.
There is nothing more luxurious, more decadently delicious, than this recipe for caramel ice cream. You don’t need an ice cream maker and it contains just two major ingredients. This would be a sublime dessert for Christmas dinner. It takes just a few minutes to make, and it will garner you rave reviews. I share this recipe with a decided Mexican influence on my food blog, MRS BUTTERFINGERS.
I would love to share a slice of my birthday cake with everyone who reads my post. Since that is not possible I will share the recipe with you. The cake is called BETE NOIRE (the black beast). It is a flourless chocolate cake that is divinely decadent and addictive beyond belief. BETE NOIRE was the signature desert of our restaurant ROXY’S BISTRO. This is a serious adult chocolate cake. It makes an elegant presentation and if you follow the recipe exactly you will have chocolate lovers swooning at your feet. The recipe is on my food blogMRS. BUTTERFINGERS.
It’s very early Christmas Eve morning. I have just added the last Christmas tree adornment. It is my tradition. The newest decoration goes on the tree first. Then Christmas Eve day the oldest decoration. His name is Hansel. He is over seventy years old. Made of celluloid. My sister Heather has Gretel.
One Christmas Day they will be together again.
I love the ancient, glowing look of my nativity set. Another cherished Christmas tradition. It arrived over forty years ago for the first Christmas of our son, Callum.
I sip my morning coffee and wrap the last of the gifts. Preparations for dinner tomorrow have begun. The kitchen has a delicious aroma of roasted sweet potatoes, for sweet potato mousse. I’ve baked more rosemary walnut crisps, and sweet buns for breakfast tomorrow. The dining room table is layered with several linen tablecloths. The largest sweeps the floor like an elegant gown. Enormous crisp Irish linen napkins, gold chargers, and two massive candelabra celebrate the day. Tomorrow I’ll add fragrant, fresh cedar boughs and white poinsettias. My slow Christmas has worked out wonderfully.
Tiny Tim in Dickens’ Christmas Carol has the last word.
“God bless us everyone.”
