Today is cloudy and cold. Light rain is predicted. That seems so bah-humbug, but the adult me is happy about the forecast. The child in me is disappointed.

We’ve always called today Christmas Eve Eve. On our Advent calendar for the 23rd, shepherds and a lamb or two were often inside the little door. They were getting ready for the big day. We always knew that on the 24th, the Nativity was inside the door flap. The shepherds and angels were always there. I remember many of our Advent calendars had silver glitter. Some always fell off when you opened a door. We used to take turns opening the little doors.

My mother baked all the traditional sweets for Christmas. Always, there were sugar cookies and spritz cookies. I have her spritz maker. It took me a while to learn to drop the dough so the cookies were the perfect shape. I color mine red and green. Sometimes the dough is both colors when I switch from one color to another. My mother made pies, always an apple and a lemon meringue. One year, when I was an adult, my mother made bread in the shape of a gingerbread man and also made biscotti.

I remember one year we had a two week Christmas vacation. The school district was trying to save money by not having to heat the buildings. I went right away to my parents’ house. It was the best time. Every day, my mother and I baked cookies, all sorts of cookies, even new ones we’d never made. While the cookies were baking, we’d play Big Boggle. My mother would have her signature drink, whiskey and coke. I’d have egg nog and Kahula. After the last cookies came out of the oven, we’d clean up the kitchen and keep playing Big Boggle. We used to put the new cookies on Christmas plates on the dining room table for everyone to taste. We ran out of Tupperware containers. They were filled with cookies and piled under the table.

Today I need to do a bit of shopping including buying a good piece of meat for my Christmas dinner. That description of the meat had my sister and me roaring laughing. That is what my father always said. I don’t remember the last time I heard it, this dad memory. It just popped right out of memory drawer. I’m so glad it did.

This entry was posted on December 23, 2025 at 11:48 am and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.